Morbid - Listener Tales *Patreon Edition*

Episode Date: October 6, 2021

October’s installment of listener tales is brought to you by the lovely patreons! We thought it might be nice to have them send in their stories for the month of October as a little celebration of the spooky season. Boy were they up for the task!! We have a piano playing ghost, a vortex bedroom and a baby stealing demon. Seriously.  As always, thank you to our sponsors: Hello Fresh: Get up to fourteen free meals—including free shipping! —when you use code morbid14 at HelloFresh.com/morbid14. Embark: Go to Embarkvet.com to get free shipping and save $50 off your Embark Breed and Health Kit with Promo code MORBID Gabi: Start saving on your auto insurance today! Go to Gabi.com/MORBID to start saving today! First Leaf: Just go to TRYFirstleaf.com/slash morbid to get 6 bottles of wine for $29.95 and free shipping!! Simplisafe: Visit SIMPLISAFE.com/Morbid. SimpliSafe is offering 20% off your entire new system and your first month of monitoring service FREE, when you enroll in Interactive Monitoring. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Hey, Prime members, you can listen to morbid, early, and ad-free on Amazon music. Download the app today. You're listening to a morbid network podcast. Whether you're running errands on your daily commute, or even at home, you can enjoy all your audio entertainment in one app, the Audible app. As an Audible member, you can choose one title a month to keep from the entire catalog. This includes the latest bestsellers and new releases. Plus get full access to a growing selection of included audiobooks, audible originals,

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That's W-O-N-D-E-R-Y-P-O-D. Audible.com slash wandery pod or text wandery pod to 500-500 to try audible for free for 30 days. Angie has made it easier than ever to connect with skilled professionals to get all your home projects done well. Just bring them your project online, or with the Angie app, and answer a few questions. With Angie, you can book instantly at an upfront price, or request and compare quotes from multiple pros, so you can find the best price for your project.

So the next time you have a home project, just Angie that and start getting the most out of your home. Download the free Angie mobile app today or visit Angie.com. That's ANGi.com. Hey weirdo's I'm Ash and I'm Alena and this is morbid. It's the listener tails addition, but it's even more unique. More unique. Yeah, because we decided for October to listen to her tails, why not have the Patreon's pick? Because you know, they're kind enough to donate to the show. They keep it going, and it's like selfless donations that we really appreciate.

Exactly. They don't have to, but they do. And, you know, everyone's in a while, they just, you just wanna high five them. So here's the hard. Listen or tail of a high five. That's all about them, because why not? Why the hell not?

We love you guys, we love all of you, but Patreons, we love you. And we love you. Everyone can enjoy this, and we definitely, excuse me, the Patreon's definitely provided. They did, they really, really, and I still love that we call them Patreons. Like, what are we supposed to call them?

Patreons, oh, yeah. But we always call them, I think we should never change that. Patreons just sound so like, mm, like you're coming into my shop. You're coming into my shop. You're a patron of my shop. My pee is up. But you're not, you're a Patreon, you're a patroness,

and here's your bonus. So you guys killed it. I'm so excited to read these and the first one that and also just quick little like side note. You guys might also get because they gave us so many good stories. Literally 400 good jillion. Maybe an ad free episode for everybody this week might come out. I don't know. I don't know. It's spooky season.

Anything can happen. And like anytime your parent or someone says maybe, it usually means yes, so like linger on that. So just take that. OK, so this one's called Yeet, the Beatles fan. Petronis, listen or tell. I love that. Everybody now knows to put Yeet as a subject line.

Hey, Ashadalina, let's start with names. You can call me R. Hey, R. And I use they-them pronouns. Thank you for telling me that. I'm a long-time lurker, first-time writer-inner. Oh, lurker. Insert all the lovely compliments about you and your podcast here, especially the piece about feeling like part of a gang when y'all are bantering.

I love that. I grew up in Massachusetts. Woo! But in Western mass, so a little bit of a hike from you, but not too bad. I was going to say, Western mass is really not that high. And we love it there. And I always love hearing you talk about our home state,

especially now that I live in Richmond, Virginia. I've attached to puttafa, I love my listener tale, and I hope you enjoy it. It's not super oogie spooky, but it's got some twists and turns that I think will keep you on your toes. Enjoy my best R. Thank you R. R, let's get it. So R was kind enough to also give us some content warnings. That was nice.

Cool. Content warnings. Brief discussion of suicide completion. Brief discussion of childhood abuse. brief discussion of childhood abuse, mentions of marijuana use mostly with coded funny euphemisms, but not always. Marijuana. And actually, they are correct. There's some hilarious euphemisms for marijuana.

I love your guys' euphemisms. It's amazing. Creepy happenings in a cookie cutter city apartment, language that is not safe for work, calling my cat an asshole because she is, but that doesn't mean I don't love her very, very deeply. Do you know I feel that to like such a deep level to that? Everyone with an animal knows that feeling. Like I love the more, more than my own soul,

but like she's an asshole, so. Oh, 100%. You know what, Franklin did this morning? After we fed him because he doesn't like his new food, to wake me up, he just kept opening my nightstand over and over. I mean, that's a leap. Opening the drawer of my nightstand. That's pretty illegal.

I was like, how do you even know how to do that? So, we're getting into ours. Let's go. Situation here. I guess we should start with the downer part here. My mother completed suicide in September of 2010. So, I deeply relate to that Green Day song, which is ironic because I'm emo trash, and my mom took me to see

them for my first time concert. Oh, ruin me. Yeah. She was a very sick woman who suffered unspeakable traumas in her life, and unfortunately she wasn't able to heal herself in the way she needed. That meant a bunch of abuse in our house at her hands and then the final act of suicide. I'm so sorry. I know, that's terrible. But wow, you're like a very mature and like healthy person to be able to talk about it that way.

Yeah. Phew, okay, we got through that part. Let's move on to the actual story piece. I moved to my new home, Richmond, Virginia, in January of 2021. Like you, Ash, I found a cookie cutter apartment that was built brand new from the ground up, and probably doesn't have any residual hauntings in its past, which makes this whole experience that much stranger. Dun, dun, dun. I enjoy a good puff of

Satan's Arugula after a long day at the office, and even the Richmond brings a much milder winter season than our good old state of Massachusetts, throwing open the window to let the smoke out is still inadvisable in the dead of winter. So what I do during the cold months is put a box fan in the center of my hallway facing the living room in an attempt to keep smoke and smells from billowing out into the building's hallway.

That's kind. Then, like I'm back in college or something, I go into my bathroom, turn on the fan, and took away. Fun fact, me as well. The first time I did this, I came out of the bathroom to find the fan was not in the same spot I left it. Instead of being in the center of the hallway, facing Gayleeth forward, who says straight anymore.

I love that so much. I got it. It was slightly tilted, like someone had picked it up and placed it back down at an angle. They were helping you out. Just trying to help. Well, as much as I believe in the supernatural paranormal powers beyond our control, I am like you, Elena, a person of science, hell yeah. In the sense that I will always seek the logical scientific answer before jumping to

ghostly conclusions. Honestly, I think that's healthy. You look at that first. If you can't find that, then you know what, paranormal. Yeah, I'm not actually a scientist like Uelina, I just play one on TV, and that's not even true either. It's just a bad joke I make.

I literally was like, for a second, and I love that I have this up in front of me. I was like, what? And then I was like, oh, that's amazing. That is a really funny joke. That's a good joke. So anyway, I experimented. I put the fan back in its original position

and I watched it as it ran on the highest level in the center of my hallway. The fan, as I suspected, shook itself into a tilted angle based on the powerful motor. Thinking I, in true Nancy Drew fashion, had solved the mystery, I retired to my bedroom for the night and figured that would be that. But here's where the story picks up, actually.

Oh. Very early the next morning, probably between four and five, I was woken up by the sound of something crashing in my living room. For the record, I had just recently adopted my spoiled rotten, gorgeous snuggly asshole of a cat. Blanche. Yes, named after Blanche Devereaux of the Golden Girls.

No, I didn't pick it, which makes it that much better because I'm a huge Golden Girls fan. Me as well and Blanche is my favorite. You were meant to adopt that cat Blanche. Blanche forever. What a great name for a cat. Blanche. Blanche. Come on. Like, and just named the cat Blanche Devereaux.

hilarious. Slop that. When this happened, they had a cat. And so, that was like a long pause. Yeah, happened, they had a cat. And so that was like a long pause. Yeah, I said this. And so I was still getting used to hearing a cat banging and booming around it, ungodly hours, and didn't really think much of it. I got a bit more shut eye and then went into the living room to see the extent of the

damage after the commotion that woke me up. It was one book. One singular book had fallen to the ground. Like the nerd that I am, I have themed bookshelves. Can we be friends? Wow. Yes. And the book that had crashed to the ground

was from my Beatles shelf. I like that you have a Beatles shelf. Hell yeah, you do. John Little also loves you. Yep. Now for those of you who are listening and not reading this story, and therefore can't see the spelling of the Beatles.

I mean the Beatles, like the, I don't care if you like their music or not, you have to admit they were extremely influential to music as we know it today banned from the 1960s and not Beatles, like the bugs with crunchy exoskeletons. Rose! This may seem unrelated in random now, but I swear, in just a few paragraphs,

we'll all come together in a thrilling story climax. Okay. So back to the story. I picked the book up and put it away. Super duper confused as to how my darling asshole cat had only knocked one singular book off the shelf and not the whole ass shelf itself. As it was another snowy day and I did not have to go into work, I decided that I would do what we stoners call a wake and bake, which is when you wake up and immediately start smoking. On a day off with no other responsibilities, it's quite a delight.

I set up my apartment for the act again. For the act. The act. Fan in the center of the apartment hallway facing galley forward into my living room on full blast. I step into the bathroom and turn the fan on and there, shut the door and go to town. Now I don't know about any of you out there who indulge in the jazz cabbage. I'm screaming. Jazz cabbage. Jazz cabbage.

But I often will get so distracted scrolling on my phone, et cetera, that quite some time can pass between finishing smoking and getting up. 100 gazillion percent. There I was on the bathroom floor for like an hour scrolling on Instagram before I decided it was time to get up and move my silly

Ask to the couch so I get up I open the door and my heart freaking leaps into my throat because the fan that was in the center of my hallway is now Right in front of the bathroom door. No, thank you. I kid you not Good thing I was already in the bathroom because the fright that I felt upon opening the door and seeing the fan right in front of me while my leg hair swayed at its wind, I almost pooped my pants. Oh my god.

Almost pooped. Now here I was in a dilemma. At this point, I'd already discovered that the fan on its own would move itself into a slightly angled position, but who the fuck picked up my fan and moved it right in front of the bathroom door? After interrogating the cat, who clearly didn't do it as a result of her not having opposable

thumbs, but was my only visible suspect, I made a big huge leap to the conclusion that it had to be a ghost, or a spirit, or something unseen. But who? Like I said, this apartment is cookie-cutter as fuck, and as far as I know, nothing happened on this property before it became the building that would create and feed residual spirit activity. Or did it? Hi, I'm Lindsey Graham, the host of Wondery's podcast American Scandal. We bring to life some of the biggest controversies in U.S. history, presidential lies, environmental

disasters, corporate fraud. In our newest series, we look at the Kids for Cash Scandal, a story about corruption inside America's system of juvenile justice. In Northeastern Pennsylvania, residents had begun noticing an alarming trend. Children were being sent away to jail in high numbers, and often for committing only minor offenses. The FBI began looking at two local judges, and when the full picture emerged, it made national

headlines. The judges were earning a fortune, carrying out a brazen criminal scheme, one that would shatter the lives of countless children and force a heated debate about punishment and America's criminal justice system. Follow American scandal wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen ad-free on the Amazon Music or Wonder App. What if you were trafficked into a cult, shot nine times or fell in love with a vampire or went into a minor surgery and woke up one week later paralyzed? What would you do?

I'm Whit Missaldine, the creator of this is actually happening, a podcast from Wondry that brings you extraordinary true stories of life-changing events, told by the people who lived them. From a young man that dooms his entire future with one choice, to a woman who survived a notorious serial killer, you'll hear their first-person account of how they overcame remarkable circumstances. Each episode is an exploration of the human spirit and personal discovery. These haunting accounts sound like Hollywood movies, but I assure you this is actually happening. Follow this is actually happening wherever you get your podcasts.

You can listen to ad free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. This experience continued to happen in my apartment for about a week, a week and a half. I'd set up my fan, come out of the bathroom to find it and place it at places it hadn't started and couldn't have moved to on its own. Flush up against the wall, in the corner near my front door, turned completely around, it was wild. They did not want you to token the bathroom. In this time, too, items continued to fall off of my Beatles shelf.

Always just one item. Either the book or the yellow submarine hot wheels car I have tucked in between the items on the shelf. I want to throw that out there because in just one paragraph, now they will converge. About two weeks after the creepiness with the fan began and the Beatles items began falling off my shelf, I had a terror reading with my friend Jay. Jay is an amazing witch who is so attuned with the universe. I always enjoy hearing her interpretation of the world and what's happening in it.

I love Jay. Jay. So everybody needs a Jay. Like, you two just seem awesome. So Jay and I meet via video chat and begin by asking, and I begin by asking Jay, can I start by telling you my ghost story? And of course, because Jay is also a spooky weirdo, she said, yes.

So I told her everything in great detail, like I've just known for you all here in this putt of a. And when I finished, I was so surprised by her initial response. Without skipping a beat, and in the most casual tone, she said, sounds like your ghost is a Beatles fan. Does that bring any bells for you? YSJ, that did ring a bell for me. In fact, I knew immediately who my ghost was.

Oh my god, it's my mother. I told J. Oh my god, she... Despite my mother's trauma and flaws and the terrible, terrible happenings at her hands, my mom and I were thickest thieves when I was a kid. On Friday nights, we'd sit in the garage of the house I grew up in, and she'd smoke her cigarettes and drink her

Miller light, and I would have my rinky-dink boom box that we'd put to it Beetle CDs in, among other amazing classic rock artists, and jam away all night. Whenever we'd take long road trips, help was a go-to driving album. I even received the Beatles movies from her over the course of my several birthdays. In short, the Beatles were like our band. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I just got full chills.

After I admitted to Jay that I knew exactly who my ghost was, she wasn't surprised at all. See, Jay also grew up in a tumultuous environment. And part of why I so deeply respect Jay and her practice is that she's a very trauma-informed witch. We chatted a lot about our healing, and Jay even recommended several book titles that have been life-changing for me.

Wow, this is like amazing. You want to hit me with those jails? I was just going to say, this is like really amazing. Which is why I was just blown away by what Jay told me next. I'm not surprised, she said. When we pass on, we gain a new perspective on our lives. We're able to see ourselves and our actions in the ways that we couldn't while we were alive. That makes sense.

Jay then told me the story about her friend, T, whose mother was also very harmful to T, and who came back to visit T after she passed. T's mom was pretty terrible, and she visited T one night in a dream after she had died. T's mom wasn't apologetic, but she was able to tell T that she realized everything she done to T while she was alive was not cool at all. I think, Jake, continued, because of all the work you've been doing on healing your trauma, your mom might be coming back for a conversation. Maybe she's had time to see the errors of her ways with this new perspective we gain,

and maybe, unlike Tis mom, she's apologetic. Huh. I was stunned. Actually stunned. I think I sat there in silence for a good awkward minute before I was able to say anything. Jay, who always gives me a unique thought provoking perspective to you on, had just given me a bite bigger than my mouth, which is pretty damn big. While I was sitting there in stunned silence, my bedroom door, which was a jar, was pushed open ever so slightly. This snapped me out of my deep thoughts and I perked up a little bit. J, I think my cat just came into the room, not to change the subject, but you should totally meet her. Oh, so I leaned over the side of my bed to see

no cat staring back at me anticipatingly. I looked under the bed, no cat looked into the hallway, and there's the cat on the couch sleeping, all curled up on a pillow. She did not do that to Yodol. I ran back to the computer and looked right at Jay and told her that the door at being ever so slightly pushed open could not be my cat because my cat was a sleep on the couch. We shared a delighted, scared scream,

again, we are spooky weirdos and continued on with our reading. And that's where the story ends, rather abruptly and rather anticlimactically, I suppose, despite tantalizing you all and claiming it would actually be very climatic. The fan has absolutely continued to do its acrobatics when I plug it into the hallway. For instance, I had a friend say with me this past weekend and we both love a fan as white noise for sleeping. Me too. So we plugged it into the hallway so we could both have the effects. She was in my bedroom. I took the couch. Every morning when we woke up, the fan was in a different position than it was when we plugged it in for the

night, but the Beatles' paraphernalia has remained on the shelf-sense. I haven't tried to have a conversation with my mother, but I think that's all in good time. Unlike some of the other stories of mothers who have passed on, like the owl story that brought us all to tears. Oh, I will never forget that story. Or the woman who saw the black orbs outside her house and heard her parents say that's not us, baby, don't let them in.

That also got chilled. Don't let her be look at my arm. Yes, but full goose. Yes, oh, my mother and I have a very different relationship. Married by, sorry, marred by her behaviors, hardened by the trauma she left me with. Side note, Ash, let's talk. I think we have some similar experiences in our backgrounds. I was honestly thinking that the whole time.

When I'm ready, I think I'll pursue that option. And until then, I'll be okay with the fact that she comes to visit me now every now and then and scares the crap out of me by turning my damn box fan when I'm not looking. Oh my god, I love that. You're a much better person than I am. I would literally seek out a paranormal um... An exorcist. No, a paranormal restraining order.

Right? And I talk to a box fan. Which is almost like a basically an exorcist. Basically, that's actually not exactly what that is. But our first of all, thank you for that story. Second of all, you're an incredibly enlightened, healthy, mature individual, who is incredibly impressive.

And if it very much comes across in your writing, I felt the vibe. It really does. And I think you have a very healthy outlook on the whole situation. And I hope that you get where you want to get with it. I do too. You just fucking roll, that was cool.

And also your friend J sounds awesome too. I know, come on, you can wait a minute. Let's be frank, thank you so much for that R. Thank you. All right, my next one is called Get Off My Piano and Out of My Room, an Aussie Patreon Listener Tale. Hell yeah, Aussies! And it says, hey, Ash and Alina, not sure if this will make the cut, but here you go. It did. Spoiler alert. All right, so it says, hey, weirdos, and the lovely Ashina Lena. Before I begin to regale y'all

with my spoopy tale, I just want to say a huge thank you to the incredible beautiful witchy bitches. Oh, thank you. I've been listening to your podcast for about two and a half years now, and it feels like I'm chatting with friends every time I tune in. I wish you could come to Australia, but I get it, so I face. I love it, but I get it. I get it.

You got a lot of big, huge series. We want to get it there too, I really do. It does have a very long flight. It's such a long flight. We'll try. We'll try it someday. I've always been interested in real crime in the paranormal, probably because I want to understand one, why so many women are targeted by horrible sick and nasty, mostly male oxygen thieves,

as we just damn well try to get on with our lives, and while we keep the world moving. Yeah. A, because patriarchy, one A, because patriarchy, and two, what the hell was that old man doing in my room? A, oh, answer. I got it. Wow, your guest says as good as mine. Please feel free to use my name. Oh, answer. Answer.

We're discovering this. I thought they were like sub one A. Please feel free to use my name. Mel, hi, Mel. Hello, Mel. I found your fantabulous podcast just before I was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer in May of 2019. I'm really sorry to hear that.

Yeah. One very weird coincidence worth mentioning about that was that I had my breast skin and scary results on my beautiful mum's birthday, who I sadly lost to cancer back in 2004. Oh man, I'm so sorry. I am too. Anywho, as I underwent treatment, two surgeries, and was reocquainting myself with my deliciously comfortable bed, recovering from said surgeries, and also, while driving to and from my radio therapy appointment every day for six weeks,

a 110-kilometer-round trip. Yes, Australia is a big place, and I live in a small regional town without easy access to cancer treatment. Oh, that's horrific, and I'm really sorry. You're like a warrior. Listening to your, is it dulce it. Thank you Tulsa tones wonderful banter and fascinating tails brought me great comfort and help transport me away for my worries Oh, that makes me so happy. That makes me so happy. Oh, I hope you're doing amazing. I do too I'm sending you like the biggest hugs. Yeah, I'm so glad we could be there for you during that me too

So thank you. Thank you. Yeah. I have learned that ultimately everything is relative and I am truly lucky to be here enjoying my beautiful life, raising my amazing 15 year old daughter. Oh my God, I love this. Side note, I work in child protection and I found your podcast both in Cypher and interesting in that context, especially as I grapple with the At times heartbreaking work.

On a few days. You are incredible. Yeah, anybody who works in child services, like child protective services, I am hats off to you. It was literally just thinking. I can barely read a case about child abuse of any kind. So it's like, you deal with who,

the worst things in society. I don't know how you do it. I'm hats off to you, man. But on to my story. Australia is an ancient and incredibly spiritual land. Oh yeah, it is. I have experienced this with you, man. But onto my story, Australia is an ancient and incredibly spiritual land. Oh, yeah, it is. I have experienced this all of my life. It hums with the spirits of its traditional guardians.

We are never alone. Oh, that was a beautiful, oh my god. Oh my god, it's just right there. Just like, yes it does. I'm like, oh. Like, you know, I'm like, you know what, that flight isn't that long.

Let's go, let's go. My fellow Aussie listeners will understand what I mean. The bush is beautiful and terrifying at the same time. There is something very unsettling about it, and at times you can just feel how ancient it truly is, and there's something really creepy about old farms together is, with aging cattle runs and overgrown car skeletons, particularly

when you notice the ear-requiet. Oh hell yeah. And I could see that. It was 1980. Yes, I am 53 years young. Get it. I wrote, get it. I could see that. It was 1980. Yes, I am 53 years young. Get it. Get it. I wrote Get's It.

I said Get's It. When I was about 14 and about to start grade eight, that's that my mom, younger brother, and I moved from inner city Sydney to the southern Highlands in New South Wales, a beautiful place. What a culture shock that was. No one at my high school swore.

Oh, I would know. A blasted. And boy was it clicky. Side note. What a culture shock that was. No one at my high school swore. Oh, I would know. A blasted. And boy was it clicky. Side note, we lived about 40 kilometers from Baling. Balinglow. Thank you for State Forest, you know that place. I was just going to say, you know.

I do. I just can't say words. Need I say more? He had recently been active in the area. And I truly believe there are many more victims. 100%. Me too. For a friend. I%. Me too.

For a friend. I can't eat. I just have a moment. I really am. Like full disclosure, I have the worst cramps right now and I'm really pushing through. How do I say that again? The forest? The bologn go.

The bologn go. The bologn go state forest is also a part pine plantation and you know how quiet, dark and creepy they are. Oh gross. Mom had recently completed her teacher training and was hoping that a move to the country would give her security, enable her to get teaching work more easily, and also distract us from the wiles of the city.

It worked. I was in a one-horse town away from everything, and for about two years, I hated it with a passion. But it all turned out well in the end. I finished school with a minimum of fuss. Hey, we rented an old farmhouse on a massive acreage whose owner still ran sheep in the cattle. I was terrified of the big cows being arrested, being arrested on City Chick. Walking past them on, sorry, walking past them on an afternoon was truly horrific.

Those big, this is hilarious. Those big, divine eyes all staring. Govine, govine, yeah. Bovine, bovine, yeah. You know, it was a beautiful old home and my room was at the front of the house. It was a huge, it was huge with big, bay windows looking over rolling green paddocks fields. My bed was close to the windows. Yes, I know.

Fireplace, oh, a fireplace in your room. To my right in the corner opposite my bed. And there was enough room for my piano, which was located against the far wall near my bedroom door. I loved that room. Well, at least for a little while. Sometimes I would have my fire going as during winter it was a cold place

and I found it comforting. I would spend the dull weekends attempting to sketch the scenery and would force to practicing on my piano. That sounds lovely. It really does. It sounds like the beginning of a freaky movie, though. Yeah, it does. Not long after we moved in, my best friend came sounds lovely. It really does. It sounds like the beginning of a freaky movie, though. Yeah, it does.

Not long after we moved in, my best friend came to visit for the school holidays. She was a very spiritual person and had her fair share of paranormal experiences, seeing many ghosts having had, how do I say that? I think. Astral travel, thank you. And gone through the sleep paralysis a few times.

One afternoon, while we were hanging out in my room, wondering about what sex was like, and if we would ever have boyfriends listening to music and tending to the fire, she suddenly freaked out and began staring at the fireplace. I'd be like, you have to go now. Yeah, I'd be like, that's that.

My friend, she asked me who the old man was and the rocking chair. No, you gotta go. Staring at us, scowling. You gotta go. I don't know, but I never noticed him before, so leaf. It's been so real, my friend, but you have to leave forever now.

This has been the most fun, but I'm gonna throw you in the fight. Yeah, you gotta go. She began to shake and ran out of the room. Oh my God. She just left you there? Yeah, that's fake. That's a fake, that's a fake friend, right?

I've frozen stared where she had been pointing. I couldn't see anything, but suddenly felt really cold and very unwelcome. And so I ran out after her. She told me that she'd seen an old man sitting in a rocking chair and that he wasn't happy we were there. I wasn't convinced. Katrina could be dramatic sometimes.

You know what, I see that. Yeah, Katrina. Yeah, I feel that. The running out really. Yeah, I feel like that. But also, I respected my friend and my mom, of course, laughed it off. Nevertheless, we slept in the lounge room for the remainder of her visit. She outright refused to go back in that room, the drama.

And there was, I added that. And there was nothing to be done about that. I chalked up the experience to an overactive imagination at my mom's insistence. And after my friend had returned home, I went back to sleeping in my room. And although I wasn't sure if Mom was right, carried on. What an idiot. Uh-oh. A few nights later, at about 3 a.m.

Uh-oh. Yep, 3 a.m. I was rudely awakened by my smelly little, a loving old brother who was shaking my shoulder and yelling at me. Why are you playing the piano? Stop playing it, you woke me up. If you're gonna play it, then at least play it properly.

Don't smash crazy notes. Oh no. Yikes. He had turned on my bedroom light. I also love that he like woke you up to be like Stop playing the piano. I am literally asleep in this moment. I am not currently playing the piano, my friend.

I am in slumber. My dude, I am sleeping. I was startled by this and yelled at him that I hadn't been playing it, that he had just woken me up. Was he mad? He accused me of playing possum, pretending to be asleep. I'm gonna say that all the time.

You've never heard of something? No. Wow, really? I've never heard that before. And trying to scare him. I insisted he was wrong that I closed the lid of the piano last night after my practice and had not played it

and had fallen asleep. Then what is that he yelled pointing to the piano. I looked over at the piano last night after my practice and had not played it and had fallen asleep. Then what is that he yelled pointing to the piano. I looked over at the piano and to my utter horror saw the lid was open and my sheet music was scattered all over the floor. I booked it the hell out of there and ran to my mum's room. She was fast asleep and hadn't heard the commotion. I knew she would be mad so I didn't wake her and I slept in the lounge room again that night.

The next day, when my mum asked why I was in the lounge room, I told her what happened, and she again dismissed my fears. I dragged her to my room, protesting that my sheet music had been scattered everywhere, and the lid was open. To my further horror, I thought that the lid had been shut, and my sheet music was stacked neatly. Oh, now they're just messing with you.

That's not right. Oh, why? I love that it says that. Why, oh, why? Mom told me I needed to stop with the nonsense and reminded me that I had a beautiful room. You did have a beautiful room. I was expected to stay in it.

Honestly, me as a mom. You did have a beautiful room. This room is beautiful, sleep in it. Your room is aesthetically pleasing. You must stay in it. For about a week, I would periodically feel eyes staring at me and just couldn't get warm. I don't love that.

I hate that a lot. I would hear footsteps in the long hallway and see shadows. So I just moved out of that room and took up residence in the lounge room. Fortunately, we moved out not long after that. I will never forget that experience. And to this day, my brother and I reminisce about that night, I never found out about the history of that house. I wonder what happened there. I do have other stories about near abductions as a child and young women, and young women, and two unwelcome human visitors to that house asking to use the phone when I was alone one night. Perhaps another time. No, perhaps. Please. Whenever. Sorry for the length of this story, never be. I hope it's suitably creepy. It was. Lots of long distance Aussie

love to y'all, Melanie. Oh, send it right back to you Mel. Giving you like the biggest hug for that story and just for everything in the world. Dave, love you. Also that room sounded awesome, but also horrible. But you know what? I've been having some weird like things going on that we have we have a security camera like a little monitor in my youngest. Do I even have a girlfriend? Do I even have a girlfriend? Yeah, I like told you, like it's nothing crazy, but it's just like kind of head scratching.

Okay. Because we have a little camera that is emotion detector camera. So if she is to like jump up or wake up, you can get a man notification and we'll tell me to go in there so that she doesn't eat herself on the front. Exactly, because she tends to eat herself

out of the cramp. She do. So the other night, I got, I was sitting there, and we have this whole thing where John's the one who puts the youngest to bed. I put the twins to bed. And I had finished putting the twins to bed. I went downstairs. I was doing some writing.

And I get a little notification that says there's motion in her room, which I was like, oh, John's just putting her down. Yeah. So where the motion is. And so I like look at the thing, and it gives me a little recording, like a five-second recording of what the motion is. Nope, he wasn't in that room. Well, girl, you did not tell me this.

Well, because what happened was the other day, during the day, I got three notifications of motion in that room. Where was I? I think you were here. You didn't tell me. I think I just wasn't sufficiently like, are we even friends? Like spookyed out enough?

I think I think I was like, oh, weird motion in that room. But all of a sudden I'm like, what's going on? I'm like mad at you. You know what I think? Maybe it was my mother and mother that was in the room that I said it like casually to maybe I just Think I just did or something and I think I just like moved on because I didn't want to like dwell on it I wonder on it, but last night I was like, okay, that's an interesting. I would have brought my sage

It's definitely interesting. I don't know. We'll see what happens there. Oh Like oh She doesn't seem like you know Oh, like, oh, she doesn't seem like, you know, yes, she does. She doesn't even sleep through the night. I know, but that she doesn't seem scared. She doesn't seem scared. She seems scared, I would be alarmed,

but she just doesn't like sleeping. But yeah, it's strange. I'm hope, maybe it's like a nice spirit who's like trying to be like, I'm gonna help you. Maybe. They'll try to get her to sleep. That's so bizarre.

Yeah, it was a very strange thing. Because I've never obviously we had a regular monitor up there before that didn't do a motion thing. I would just always, and this one just happens to have that extra motion detection thing where it will record a little snippet of video. And that's been an interesting thing. That's funny that you say that.

Because the night, like I think it was like a way long time ago when I babysat, and I put the girls to bed, and it was like totally fine. I've never felt weird in that room. And then I was putting the little one to bed, and she woke up, so I grabbed her, and I just went to sit in her room instead of like in you guys' room.

And I just like felt super weird in there. And I've never felt weird in like any other area of your house. Yeah, me neither. So I don't Yeah, me neither. So I don't know. But then I also feel like I feel weird in a baby's room sometimes. I felt that way when the girls were little. Yeah.

Because paranormal activity ruined me. I know. I think it's been the subject of so many scary things. Yeah. That it's freaky. Yeah. You automatically are like, what's happening here? Wow.

Yeah. I'm shook a little. Yeah. It was, it was definitely a real experience, a moment. You know what we'll see? We'll see, all right? We'll just see.

I guess we will. We'll just see. So let's move on to the next listener, too. Patronus bonus, awesome. But yeah, I thought I had something that ran to the Patronus bonus. Patronus bonus, awesome. Gabonus. had something that ran to a patronage bonus. But Tronus, bonus, awesome. Gabonus.

There you go. There it is. This one's called, Yeet Ghost Smoking Doobies, Energy Vortex Bedroom. Hell yeah. And their putipha says, Kesha, listen or tail.

And that's why I picked it. That is for Ash. I love Kesha. And this is amazing. It says, hey, Gurley's, you can call love Kesha. And this is amazing. It says, hey, girlies, you can call me Kesha. Fake name. How to feeling? Because it has the dollars that I did it every split.

I feel like whenever anyone starts these, they tell you when and where they listen to your podcast. So I'll start by telling you that I listen to you guys every day at the gym. Thank you. And there's a specific reason for this. I have ADHD, so it's hard for me to listen to music, because I wind up solely focusing on how the sweat is slicked on my back of my neck as I'm running,

or how there is a fuzzball in my sock, which is hitting my pinky toe. Podcasts are my savior in this regard. When I listen to your fun and light banter about the cretons of humanity, I literally only pay attention to you, and I actually forget that I'm working out, which is honestly crazy because I'm asthmatic.

Anyway, thanks for that. That's so funny. I love how casually it's like, whoa, nuts. I can't breathe it. So it's crazy. You rule. Si, it was honestly hard to choose which story to tell you.

I had to choose between. Look at this list, look at this fucking list. The helpful soldier ghost, Stekgettysburg College, please send that to you. I had to choose between the helpful soldier ghost at Gettysburg College. Please send that to the time I was cursed by a witch. Please send that. The time I tried to buy weed from an Uber driver and Croatian almost got kidnapped. The time I slipped into a parallel universe during a lucid dream. The many mafios, so I became acquainted with while working at an Italian restaurant. Please send that. Send them all.

Or this one. But this one definitely had the best subject on potential. So here we go. I wish I could just hop on the pod myself and tell you this because I feel like we'd vibe and I love telling stories. I use my hands a lot and I get really into it. You'd sit right in. As I was reading this, I have both hands up and it happens.

She's going wildly. However, I will try to do this story justice with mere words. This is the three-part saga with some additional side notes. So let's buckle the fuck up. I'm buckled. Part one, the haunting. I love how you did this already. I do too.

I moved into my former apartment in Candyland when I started graduate school a few years ago. The building is fairly new, so honestly, a haunting was the least of my worries. My room was huge and I had my own bathroom, so I was living the life. Besides the fact that I had three jobs and was doing research out of the wazoo,

the first few months went by normally and then October rolled around. I don't know what the F about October triggered it, but the electricity all of a sudden started getting really wonky. Like my TV would shut off randomly and my lights would flicker all the time. Now, mind you, I was a bonafide, ganjagatis at this time, a wacky tobacco warrior. Oh my, you guys are killing it. Love. So I think I blame most of it on me being high as a kite, but we know that hindsight is.

2020. Because then, even we know that hindsight is. 2020. Because then, even weirder shit started happening. One night a few weeks into October, I walked out of my apartment building to go to class, and I noticed it was cold as fuck. I had recently taken out my electric heating blanket because it was a cold October, and I thought to myself, damn, I should really go up and turn my heating blanket on, so I come back to a cozy-ass bed. But I was already about to be late for class, I was about I was the girl who was always late

So I couldn't risk I literally felt that inside of my clothes When I got home around 9 p.m. I went into my room and sat on my bed to take my shoes off I thought it's so toasty in here. I thought to myself or I thought to myself. I smiled Let me make sure let me make it even more toasty with some heating blanket action I went to turn, or I thought to myself, I smiled, let me make sure, let me make it even more toasty with some heating blanket action. I went to turn it on and, waaaah! It was turned on already. What the fuck?

I know for a fact that it was not on when I left, because I contemplated it, then left, and regretted it. I went and asked all my roommates because I was a little spooked. Obviously, none of them cared enough to enter my room without my permission and turn my heating blanket on without me asking. That's just a weird thing to do. Whatever, they must have been a glitch. Except, it happened again. And the ghost apparently didn't think I had enough, it warm enough. I know for a fact it was not a glitch this time. I had left for a double shift after the restaurant I worked at, so I turned my blanket off at 12 p.m. before I left.

And the level was at four. Not only that, but the blanket goes off after a certain amount of hours. So I couldn't have left it on. I got home around nine or 10. And the blanket was once again turned on in up to level eight. The ghost said, bitch, you're cold as fuck.

I'm cranking the shit up for real though. I think whoever it was wanted to prove to me that it was them. I also love how like carrying this ghost. I love it. I love it. It's really cold out. Yeah. But it didn't stop there.

Oh no. A few weeks and nights later, I woke up in the pair of flip flops that I wear around the house was neatly placed on the pillow next to my head. That's my favorite. Like, OK, the heating blanket I could get, they wanted a bitch to be cozy. But what the fuck was this about?

The most out-of-pocket experience came on Halloween weekend. I'd worked a double at the restaurant, sang some karaoke, then headed home to schmoky a little toky with the girls. Me and two friends were chilling on my bed in my room, and we wanted to make a recorder bomb, bomb in picture attached, by the way. That's the most innovative thing I ever fucking see.

I showed it to me and I was like, you know what, that's innovative. I literally, and then I went back in my day. We used to just use a guy to write bottle. Back in my day, we just used those recorders in school. I learned how to use the recorder in like third grade. We used to have like, oh, it sounds like really weird. We used to have like a basement music class.

Wow, that's really sketchy. No, I'm not even joking you. We would go into the basement and learn how to play the fucking recorder. I'm so unsettled by that. Yeah, my child is weird. I don't know. I'm very unsettled by that.

I'm so old from that. This basement recorder playing I can't. I used to love it though when it would be like spooky and rainy. I'd be like, ooh, spooky recorder time. Hell, yes, spooky every recorder time is spooky and rainy. I'd be like, oh, spooky recorder time hell. Yes, spooky every every recorder time is spooky recorder time. Let's be real. That's what recorders sound like.

So the picture of the recorder bong is attached, which is exactly what it sounds like a recorder with joints in the holes. My mom, my one friend and I started to roll up and this is where it gets weird. I was showing everyone the gorgeous J I rolled and I stick it in one of the holes. She literally wrote, then asked my friend if I could have hers to put in two. She goes to grab it off the tray and says, wait, it's not there. I'm like, okay, did it fall? I shoot you not. We looked everywhere. We cleared the tray one item at a time and it was not there. She was like, I legit just put it on top of the grinder. So we were all like, huh, disclaimer. None of us were high at this time in preparation of

smoking our beautiful musical creation. I love that it's like disclaimer. None of us were high during the making of this story. We started searching my room, but like, where the fuck could it have gone? My room is always very clean. I'm a Virgo. Oh, okay, there you go. Yep. So there really wasn't anywhere for it to hide. At some point, we realized that something was fucking with us and I yelled out, hey, I understand you think this is funny, but I just want to join back, please. And I shit you not. I had this like flash in my head that was like, it's going to be somewhere very obvious on a flat surface. And I go, guys, it's going to be on a flat surface. Look on my dresser table.

And I look on the bed, and it's on top of the grinder that we had moved off the tray to look for it, neatly placed like nothing had happened. I yelled, thanks, that was funny. We all laughed. I love a non-shelonk this all, is that it? Thanks, what the fuck, that was funny. We all laughed it off, but that was the last straw for me.

I had to know who was fucking with me. Don't be stealing my jays. So I did it. I called a medium. I love that. How did you get the last action? You really? She know what I got out of my gong. Part two, the communications. She arrived the following week. When she stepped into my room, she said she immediately felt dizzy. Great LOL. She literally told me. Like, but I Great, LOL. She literally told me. Like, but I made it nice. She literally told me that my room was a small energy vortex. I don't know if she just like, hey, I feel dizzy. This is a small energy

vortex. I don't know if you knew that. I gotta let you know something about this room right here. So she literally told me that my room was a small energy vortex, something we would all love to hear, no? I feel like that could be like a good HGTV show for Halloween time, like a medium comes into your house and tells you where your vortex is. It's like, just tell me all the weird shit that's going on in my house.

Small energy vortex or bust. Check. Trading energy vortex is rating energy vortex. You decorate trading energy vortexes reading energy vortex you decorate my energy vortex all they decorate yours energy vortex or listed okay no wonder rent was so cheap they knew they knew I sat on my bed and she sat on a chair crossed from me facing me she immediately looked over each of my shoulders first first the right, then the left. I instinctively followed her eyes

because like, who's there, bitch? She said that there were presences that immediately came out to say, what's up? Two over my right shoulder, which were family members, and one over my left shoulder, who was a young man. This younger man seemed to not be directly related to me, but more so utilizing the room as an energy field to communicate. Cool, cool. She stated that one of my family members was an older man, and that he really wanted to talk. As she said it, she clutched

at her throat and started breathing heavily. I was like, holy shit, is she about to go all Rosemary's baby in here? But then she said he might have had impaired breathing when he died. And I knew immediately that it was my grandfather and my mom's side who had passed away from lung cancer. Wow. I was very close with him before he died when I was four. Oh, that's just like, I know.

That's my heart. My twins were really close to their grandfather and they were like four when he passed. She told me that he said to learn to communicate better with my mom, which is a sore spot in our relationship and that I need to write more since it used to be one of my favorite pastimes. Wow, what a good grandfather being like right now. I used to wanna write children's books. That's amazing.

Do it. You're so funny, you could write really good books. I was just gonna say you do it. And you're fucking innovative. You came up with a recorder bomb. Like don't write about that. Like for real, I'm gonna hound you until you write a book. Yeah, every episode we're you're like, You came up with a recorder bomb. Like, don't write about that. Like, for real, I'm gonna, I'm gonna hound you until you write a book.

Yeah, every episode we're gonna be like, Hey, hey, hey, Kesha, write that book. Not to mention if like, we're got out to like, the Kesha and she was like, okay. And she told like, I wasn't planning to write a children's book,

but okay. No, seriously, Kesha, write that book. For real. You Kesha. I was shook because it was so specific to my life. The medium also told me that he was the one who put my flip-flops on the bed. Ah, as for the heating blanket and other electricity,

that was the other family, remember? My Nana. That's precious. They're working together. She died when I was nine, and she had lived to be a hundred years old, Hell yeah. Not a bitch, Alert. The medium told me that the one thing she needed to tell me

was to eat more. She was a little Italian woman. Oh my God, I'm obsessed. Dude, mom, not even Italian, but why would that be her? Oh, 100%. Literally. This was also super relevant because I was simultaneously battling

the lemia at the time. Beat it, woo, woo. Hell yeah. For you, Kasha. Wow, that's like wild. Seriously. And disordered eating from my various medications. Wow, I'm so sorry you went through that.

I know, that's not true. What about us? I actually did need to eat more. I was stunned by these messages. They were really taking care of their little brother. They were. I bet you were wondering about that misplaced joint. Well, that.

Well, that, not an inner. Well, that, my friend, was the young dead man who was like, who had a liking for my room. The medium said that he was around my age and had a connection to Candyland, the town I was living in. She said he did not die peacefully, but was content and happy now in the afterlife. The only reason he likes to come back

is to let people know he's okay because many people are worried about him. This revelation made me really sad, to be honest. I wanted to know who this was so I could possibly pass on the message to any of his loved ones, but you could not say exactly who. I do know that he has a wicked sense of humor and that he seems to like weed, right on, man. Fast forward to about a month or two later, I went to my parents' house for the weekend. When I arrived, I noticed a gift on the table

for my grandmother on my mother's side, who was married to the grandfather that came to me in my room. Oh, that's cool that they were like opposite grandparents, but still like just working together. I looked inside and I literally almost shitt my fucking pants. My grandmother had gotten me a notebook. Remember what the medium had said about my grandfather

telling me to write more? Yeah. And I had not told anyone about the experience. Oh my goodness. I was waiting to tell my grandmother in person. She had randomly gotten me a nice notebook and wrote on the inside cover, may all your dreams come true. Again, ruin me. I literally started crying and ran to show my mom and her bedroom and tell her the story. As I got to the staircase, I noticed a single loose photograph on the floor right at the landing.

The floor was bare besides this photograph. I bent over to pick it up and almost passed out right there. It was a photograph of my grandfather. There was not a photo album or empty frame around for it to have fallen out of. It was like he placed it there himself to remind me that it's always with me. Oh, part three, closure question mark?

I could not shut my mouth after this experience. It was so beautiful and calming to know that the people we love are still here with us in some way. It really is. It is, for sure. Because of this, my friend and her family decided to hire the medium as well because her family's house is teaming with energy.

There's been more than one possession. Oh, okay. Oh, just a casual drop of possession. I won't go into detail about their experience because that's personal to them, good for you. However, I was there when the medium came and she was able to tell me a few more things about my own spirits.

She told me that the young man had followed me and because of the heightened mass of vortex energy at my friend's house, which was actually a lot stronger than that of my bedroom, she was able to communicate with him a little better. She confirmed that the young man was actually someone who had committed suicide at the school that I was attending. I knew of this person and my heart dropped. She told us that we could pass along the message to his family and friends that he's doing okay,

and that he's actually thriving in the afterlife. I just got like a huge mass of chill. Although this was nice in a way to know that he was okay, the energy brought with it's brought with it's something very fucked up. The medium told us that there was a young girl covered in blood in the kitchen. She said that this girl was murdered

and that she had not yet crossed over. Oh, I have full chills. I do too, like literally on my wings. She was basically stuck because of her untimely death and because they had not gotten her killer yet. The medium said that the energy vortex drew her in and also possibly the fact that this was the same sorority as one of us

because of those good old rituals that we do for initiation. So there's some residual energy in that. The thought of this poor stuck girl still haunts me to this day. And if you want me to tell you who I think it is, let me know. Because her story could definitely be an interesting case. I would love to somehow free her. Holy shit, yeah. So yeah, that's my story. Here are some interesting side notes related to the story. My grandfather once came to my mom in a dream and told her that he left her a present.

The next day, she found out she was pregnant with my sister. That is beautiful. That is beautiful. That is so beautiful. Wow. The grandmother that gave me the notebook is actually my mom's stepmother. My mom's real mother passed away when my mom was six from colon cancer on November 7. I got a kitten shortly after all these spiritual events and drum roll, please.

His birthday is November 7th. I had also had a premonition about this kitten the previous year during a raky session. His name was, oh my God, I love it. His name is Alexander Hamilton in case you were wondering. I was. Oh, I know was.

So thank you. I smoked weed at a frat party once with the deceased young man in my room while he was alive. That's wild. Whoa. That part like really sent. What a hefty side note you just alive. That's wild. Whoa. That part like really sent. What a hefty side note you just drew. It's real.

Thanks for sharing this. I've been in the throes of writing my thesis for the past year, hell yeah. So this was super fun to write. Honestly, it was pretty cathartic as well. I haven't talked about this in a while, and it was a lot while it was happening. So I don't think I ever truly processed everything.

But getting it all out on paper was super healing. I definitely cried while writing this. Thanks again ladies and keep it weird. Someone can finish this. But not so weird that all of these fucking things happen to you, but like maybe do. Keep it weird that weird because I would love if any of this happened to me because all of it was so sweet and nice. It turned out to be so beautiful. I loved it. Much love. Kes, also included pics of my Kitter. I feel love viewing Kresson. Oh, they have a great Kitter. Oh, what a beautiful Kitter. And that fucking bot, I mean. And one of the photos is like the cat looking surprise and it just says surprised.

And then the next one is him laying down and says, handsome. Hey, I have that battery too. And Franklin does that as well. Yeah, and I'm telling you, Kesha. Kesha, you Kesha, who wrote that. Write a children's book. You got it. and Franklin does that as well. Yeah, and I'm telling you, Kasha. Kasha. You, Kasha, who wrote that,

write a children's book. You got it. You got it. You got it. You got it. You can tell. And I want your children's book to read to my children. So please do that. Oh my God. Yeah. I'll encourage you the whole way. I got you. Yeah. Writing is tough, but I get it.

So I will encourage you all the way. I think you can do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. I don't know. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. All right. My next one is called the Time A Encounter to Baby Stealing Demon. Ashy were astrologically obligated to pick mine because I'm an Aries and we love us some Gemini. Wow. I love Aries as well. My husband is an Aries. I love drawing. And he loves it.

Ashy and Alina please enjoy this spooky ass shit that happened to me. I love you guys, love you. Hey weirdos, I'm manifesting that y'all will see my listener tail and pick it, even though I know you're going to get a fuck ton of submissions. Well, look at you, you manifesting son of a bitch, you want. Here we are, you manifesting son of a bitch.

I love how it ends. Anyways, like everyone else, I want to start by saying that when I found your podcast, I was currently listening to a different one that a friend had recommended and it was boring shit. I started searching for the true crime. I added the through the true crime. And I found you two.

On a whim, I picked you guys and I have loved you ever since. You were both so funny and engaging and I love nothing more than when you two roast the fuck out of some of these assholes. I love hearing a leanest perspective as an autopsy tech. I hope that's the right terminology. It is. And Ash has me dead on the motherfucking regular.

So thanks you guys. I love you. Thank you. I love you. Anyway, my listener tale is about the time I went to spend the night at my aunt's house and some real demonic shit went down. But first I'll give you guys a little backstory on me and why this ended up horrifying for me. My name is Jade.

Feel free to use it. So when you read this, I can scream and do a little excited flappy arm movement or something. Hi Jade! Hi Jade! Insert screaming and flapping arms here. Yay! I grew up with a mother who was very connected to the spiritual side of things. And by connected, I mean, she's been seeing, hearing, experiencing weird shit like this,

and she was a kid. And she loved telling my paranoid, overthinking, terrified ass, all of these stories, which I will probably have to send another time because there are so many good ones. She even used to take my brother and I ghost hunting at the cemetery, which was low-key kind of awesome.

What a cool mom. Yeah, I wanna be that mom. She would bring a tape recorder in a digital camera, and we would speak to people there, dead peeps, of course. Well, there I would just wander around and follow her, basically hearing a one-sided conversation. But when we would get home, she would play the tapes and I could hear the voices on them.

Some sounded like normal ghosty voices, and others sounded like some straight up demonic shit. She would also occasionally catch orbs on her camera. Even though I was down for the cemetery trips, I never wanted to hear any of her other stories because I would always get stuck on them and make myself miserable thinking that it was only a matter of time until I would finally have some sort of encounter. I would tell myself it wouldn't happen because I don't claim that shit, and all those spooky bitches need to leave me the fuck alone, okay? Well, little did I know

that I was in for a fucking experience, alright. At the place I least expected it, too. To this day, I still have no explanation for what happened. I was headed to my dad's house for the weekend, and I'd like to also preface this by saying my dad's side are a bunch of skeptics, and my mom's side were not. So I never really talked about her stories to my dad's side because they would all laugh and assume it was all bullshit. That sucks. I knew that that shit was true though. Anyway, I don't remember my exact age, but I was a kid.

The plan that weekend, Fourth of July, was to visit my Nina, Teo Joss, Josh, excuse me, and cousins on base at Camp Pendleton. There was going to be a huge beach party and it was going to be so much fun. Well, the beach party came and went and my dad told me it was time to go. It was around 1 a.m. at that time. My Nina knew that my little cousin, Dene and I were super close.

So she told me I could spend the night if I wanted, since they were heading back to the family tomorrow. Of course I agreed. We were headed back to her house and she set me and my two cousins up in the living room. I had the couch and Dene and her little brother Isaiah were sleeping on an air mattress on the floor. I believe Isaiah was two, and Dene was probably around five, which would have made me eleven or twelve. From the couch in the living room, the front door was in plain sight, and to the right of the front door was a hallway that led to all the rooms. However, that night it was so dark, but the hallway was pitch black. The only light in the

living room was the tiny glowing blue ring of light from the direct TV cable box and a bitch was scared of the dark. I laid there staring at that little blue light because I couldn't fall asleep and occasionally would look up at the ceiling fan too. Suddenly, I heard this sound that kind of seemed like all the power in the house went dead. The cable light turned off, and if I remember correctly, the fans stopped too. I can hear that sound. It's like, you can hear it, it's like, that literally, like all the powers like that.

Just sucks it. Goodbye. I got a chill. I need a break. Okay, go. I gotta leave. I'm bored. I don't want to do it. That's what it says. That's so bad. I'm bored. I don't want to do it.

That's what it says. That's what it says. All of the above. All of it. I didn't get why, but I still, I still necessary. Sorry, still recovering from my own joke. I didn't get why, but I still wasn't necessarily

spooked. I kept lying there. But then I noticed that little Isaiah and Dene started to stir in their sleep, which I thought was a little strange, but kids are weird. So I was like, it's probably still fine. All of a sudden I started to hear this loud ragged inhuman and heavy-ass breathing. Oh, I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I'm out. I I left the chat coming from the dark ass hallway. I didn't know how to describe it other than that because it was fucking terrifying.

At first I thought maybe my TO Josh had woken up and was trying to scare me. With Brad, he meant like he just woke up. Like and he was like, oh, he just woke up. Oh, Josh is up. Hi, TO. It was trying to scare me because my dad's side were full. My dad's side were full of a bunch of jokers, and sometimes you got the shit scared out

of you for funsies. I feel that also. Yes. I couldn't see because the hall was so dark, so I kept telling myself he was gonna pop out, but he didn't. The breathing continued for a few moments, and then it stopped. It went. Did it die?

It died? No. It's a ceased. But it was immediately followed by the sound of every single door in that hallway slamming open and closed, I shit. Oh, no. Which at the same time was about five doors.

What? At this point, I felt crazy because my cousins were still knocked to the fuck out. And it seemed that I was the only one who could hear the slamming, which was so incredibly loud that my delusional ass was like I guess my aunt and uncle don't want these kids to stay asleep even though I know damn well. It wasn't them doing it It was complete sensory I was thinking about like I am so overstimulated by this situation. I'm not even there. Yeah, fuck that

I couldn't sleep after that. Oh you couldn couldn't. Weird. Why not? I just stayed awake. Eventually Isaiah started to stir again and whole last started sleepwalking over to the couch where I was. No. No. Slumping to the ground right before he reached me. No. Fuck that.

A few minutes later, my Tio got up for water or something. Obviously very sleepy. And I told him Isaiah was fussing. And he took him back to their room for the rest of the night. After that, I fell asleep not knowing there would be more to come tomorrow, just another small preface for this next part.

My little cousin Isaiah could not speak yet. So when he was called, he would respond with, huh? He wasn't tall enough to reach any door knobs, nor did he know how to open doors. That weekend, this is important for the end, I promise. My Nina was talking to my Nana about how she bought him these little baby flip flops which have a strap for the back of the heel to keep them on his photo. Oh my god, so cute. I'm sure they'll make his foot.

We'll come back to this later though. Okay, so the next day, Isaiah, Dene and I were in Dene's room. Dene was showing me her toys and Isaiah was playing a plug and play game on the TV. As I was sifting through Dene's dolls, I picked up this little one with a purple dress and a wind up on the back. I felt so weird holding that doll, kind of off in a way I can't explain. When you wound it up, it played for Elise by Beethoven,

which I love. But, too. That is a pretty one. But for some reason, I didn't like the way it sounded from that sketch-ass doll, and I shoved it to the bottom of her toy basket, so maybe she wouldn't play with it anymore. My Nina then called us from the kitchen to come and eat.

When exiting the room, it's a straight shot to the end of the hallway, past the front door, and as you keep heading straight, there is an open concept dining room, which the front door and the hallway are in plain sight of. Dene and I were trying to coax Isaiah to come with us, but his little stubborn baby asked and want to stop playing the game. So Dene and I were like, okay, fine, and we went to eat. My Nina, seeing he didn't come, asked where he was. We explained and she yelled for him. All day enough, though, he never answered back with his little, huh?

Which was something that he always did. It was silent. Also, keep in mind that Dene and I sat at the dining table and never saw him come out of the room down the hallway. When he still didn't, my, When he still didn't answer, my Nino went to the room to get his little ass, but he wasn't there anymore. Her husband, Tio Josh, joined her in tearing apart all five rooms because they assumed he was playing hide and seek. Two-year-olds are real wily that way.

Yeah, they are. They just disappeared. Really are. Spooky. He didn't end up being in any of the rooms. It started to get real weird. They were starting to panic and saying, this isn't funny anymore. Come out I literally yeah, I say that some Yeah, I talked or excuse me

I walked to the front door and immediately saw one of the little kid vacuums where the balls pop it Oh, I fucking hate those things. Oh man. We have those in their terrible I hate them so much where the balls pop as you push it just strewn on the grass There was no one outside at all except this weird ass little boy across the street. To this day, it still gives me the creeps. Oh, he looked nothing like Isaiah, but was wearing his outfit, which at the time was an orange shirt and shorts

with those little sandals I mentioned. He had no adult with a fuck that. No, he had no adult with him and stared me down as I walked down the sidewalk, slow and creepy and stared me down as I walked down the sidewalk. No. Slow and creepy. Excuse me, as he walked down the sidewalk, I'll slow and creepy.

I looked around our driveway and under the cars, but my cousin wasn't there. I was so confused. Moments later, I go back to near the front door and Dene comes out. She walks behind the cars where I was, and I told her he wasn't there. I couldn't see her because she was small,

and my uncle had some gigantic ass trucks. All I heard was Dene called for her brother and then I heard him respond, huh? And next thing I know, she walks out from behind the cars with her brother. How the fuck does that make any sense? What? Once he was found my aunt and uncle were like, oh, we must have gotten out somehow. Except we watched that door the whole time and we never saw him leave. I still felt weird about it, but they were being skeptical asses as is as usual and I was like I need to talk to my mom.

I went home after that weekend and I pulled my mom aside. I said something happened to me this weekend but I want you to tell me. I was still skeptical of my mom in some ways even though I knew she had gifts. Kind of in the way that that mom's already know how everything is. It's already know everything. Yeah, they already know everything. So my mom was probably embellishing about all of her knowledge and experiences with the spooky ship. I also think me not wanting to accept her shit

like that was real played into me doubting her. Anyway, she agreed and she said, okay, take my hands. Oh, I fucking love this. I did and she closed her eyes and started small by describing imagery from that weekend. I'd like to remind y'all that my dad's side are skeptics and my mom doesn't talk to my aunt.

So there's no way she would have already known what happened. She started by bringing up Isaiah and she goes, he had these little flip-flops and there's a strap to keep the mom. Girl, I was scared as fuck, how the fuck did she know that? I agreed. And then she described my Nina's Frank Yard and mentioned the vacuum toy on the grass.

She basically said that a demon took the form of some cutesy cartoon my cousin liked and learned outside, huh? Oh, oh, I hate it. She said that because DNA was innocent, that is how she was the only one to find him. My jaw dropped and I was like, okay, you do be no one shit. Even with her clarification, it's still weird

that happened to us, but that's pretty much it. I hope you should with spooky enough without being exceedingly long. Thanks for listening, love you weirdos. Yeah, a demonic fucking... Jade! That's creepy in F all right. Jade!

I'm so stout! What the bleep? What? Oh my goodness. Oh my, whoa! I'm so stressed out. What the bleep? What? Oh my goodness. Oh my, whoa. I'm not okay. I am, I am shooketh. I am shooketh.

I'm shooketh. That's all I can feel right now. Is the complete and other shookethness. Don't be dramatic. That's really scary. The fact that he took the like image of his favorite cartoon character and was like, come outside. No, no. And the fact fact I must have been like some kind of poltergeist or something because it's like the

How all the lights went off and then he was sleepwalking like that's so fucked No, I hate it. Mm-mm. It's so fucking creepy. That was crazy and wow and your mom knows and that makes sense Like the little cousin was the only one who could find them because Like she didn't because five year-old are just a little much That's right. Wow Jade. I'm really shit that I used to come out with when I was five and we lived together at my boss. I do Yeah, yeah, yeah, one of those little creepy asses. She did have a body. She was just made a bow Well, my I think it's the last listener tale that we're going to read for this one,

but don't worry because you're getting an extra one because we have so many cup of milk. It's going to be out for you. I just think so. This one is called Listener Tale, Brazilian Edition. The night I fell on my butt while being mugged. Yeesh. Hey, there, fellow weirdos.

My name is... OK, feel free fellow weirdos. My name is... Okay, feel free to use it. My name is Amelia. I've been a huge fan of morbid ever since I found you guys last year. I can't stress enough how much of a difference you've made in my everyday life. Thank you.

I really love every single episode you've done so far and I'm especially fond of the listener tails. Me too. So I decided to send you to my very own true crime story. I've included a putt of foot to the email, double spaced, because of course, love you. You mean it? You hero.

I've sent out another version a while ago, but decided to send you a new abridged account of my tail with hopefully less mistakes. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any weird, wrong expressions. So, okay, so honestly, it's amazing. Like, anybody who can speak more than one language to me or write more than one language, woo. Yeah, so you say, especially writing, because writing is so much different than writing.

It's completely different. Yeah, anybody who's like, like that, by leaving a more tri-lingual, I'm like, wow. Thank you so much for sharing a bit of you with us out here in the world. Best regards of me, yeah, thank you. That was a really sweet thing that anybody's ever said to me.

All right, let's get to this. Let's go. I should first say, this isn't exactly a spooppy story. It's the sad with a happy ending sort of how in the blink of an eye I almost lost the person that means most of me in the entire universe operative word being almost, which is the only thing that allows me to approach this tale somewhat lightly.

That was really impressive that you said that. Also, also, also the story came out longer than I thought. So feel free to skip any parts that seem too rambly. No. Ready? Then hold on to your boondas. And thank you for the pronunciation. It says, you say it boondas. That's Portuguese for butts. Hold on to your boondas. I love that. I love that. I met my husband Lionel a little over eight years ago in boxing class. Bad ass. So sweet.

We'd talk here and there in between jabs, but didn't really interact too much. I mean, I'm left-handed, so he had to keep his wits about him. That isn't a one day. I decided to ask what he did for a living. I'm a writer, he said. I was hooked.

I feel you. Sexy job. At the time I was 26, had just gotten a living. I'm a writer, he said, I was hooked, I feel you. Sexy job. At the time I was 26, had just gotten my master's degree in criminal law, and was finally starting to feel like a proper adult with a proper career. He said he'd give me one of his books if I gave him one too. And so our story began, I love this. This is a different one.

On our very first date, I mentioned to him I had been learning German for some, oh, okay, okay. He was trying to be a linguist. He was trying to be a linguist. I mentioned to him I had been learning German for some... Oh, okay. Oh, okay. He's trying. He was trying to be a linguist. He was trying to be a linguist. I mentioned to him I had been learning German for some while now. Also German, like, very hard.

Really hard. And had plans to move there in the near future to pursue a PhD in my field of research. I love you. You're iconic. We had been drinking more than a couple of beers when I casually asked him if he'd be willing to come with me. Oh my God, he said yes.

You want to come to Germany? I've obsessed with that just like, boom. Yeah, let's spontaneous. Let's move to Germany. I can't stop going, let's go. Let's go. This is so perfect. Fast forward two and a half years of an amazing, loving relationship we get married.

Oh, oh, fun fact. He's always called to be a weirdo. So I guess I really do belong here. If something happens to this man, I'm not a loser. I weirdo, so I guess I really do belong here. It's something happens to this man's, I'm not losing it. I can't, like protect him at all costs. By then I was already pursuing my PhD in Brazil and had applied for a scholarship from the German government to carry out part of my research there as part of this fancy double PhD

program, your badass, I can't say enough. A couple of months later Lionel and I pack everything up and move overseas to Germany, where we'd be spending the next 18 months. We got a place in this cute city called Auzna Bruck and quickly fell into the ways of a safe calm life. At this point, I should make it clear, I am from Brazil. Ask any Brazilians out there and they'll tell you, kind of proudly, but also with a palpable sorrow that Brazil is not for beginners.

That is the best way to put it. I love that. We are used to always having to be careful and watch our backs in many day-to-day situations. It hurts me to admit this, but most of us grow up learning strategies to avoid being a victim to violent crimes. That's really sad. I know. So Lionel and I were well aware that some of the things that soon became second nature to us in like

nonchalantly resting our cell phones on the table at a restaurant or walking back home from the uni when it was already dark outside would have to stay in Germany once we came back to our home country. We absolutely loved life in Germany and felt truly at home there but in the beginning of October 2017 our time there was up and we had to move back to Brazil. We settled into our new home and over the first few days, we set out to reunite with our friends and family. We live in the biggest city in the southernmost state of Brazil called Porto Alegré. Do you know how to say that? Alegré. Alegré. I don't know why my mouth would not form. That sounds right.

Joyful port. Look at that. So it's Porto alegre. Our neighborhood is considered safe and peaceful enough, and that's what we felt living there. That is, until this one fateful night, exactly two weeks after we arrived home. It was a normal Thursday, and we decided

to meet a good friend of mine at a local bar slash pub, not 300 yards from our apartment. It was our favorite pub. We hadn't seen her for ages, so we ended up talking for a couple of hours. We left, drank, eat some deliciously unhealthy snacks, hell yeah. At about 11.30 pm, my friend calls herself a newbie. We wait until she is safe inside the car and get on our merry, at slightly drunken way back home.

On foot, obviously. And never crossed our minds not to walk home. I mean, come on, 300 yards. That's mere 270 meters for us listeners that use the metric system. Nothing bad could happen, right? Well, wrong. Little did we know,

but we were about to become part of the statistics. I don't know who the fuck thought we'd ever want to be part of that, not so exclusive club, but if anyone had bothered to ask, we'd have said, I'm busy that day, my ubers here, noping out, buy, see you never. But sadly, no one asked. With you no one asked.

So we start heading home. ours is a rather calm street full of gorgeous trees, but not very well lit. And it is deserted. Not a single soul is out there walking but us, and there aren't that many cars out in the streets either. We find it strange and decide to pick up our pace. Suddenly, I hear this loud screech of car breaks just behind us. I promptly turn around. That's when I get spooked as fuck. What I saw upon turning around was a car driving haphazardly towards us and suddenly stopping kind of a skew in the middle of the street. A loud roar that I'm sure reached the farthest corners of beyond came out at me. Oh, came out of me. As I turn back around

to face my husband, I fucking trip on something. Gravity shows no mercy. I end up on the floor. Not kidding. I fell beautifully on my butt. The bruise that left was deep and bigger than my hand. It took weeks to disappear completely. Oh, wow. Also, I was laughing because of the expression beautiful. But as I was busy falling on my sweet ass. Like, this is... I love that you're like, like, flexing up on this movement.

I was like, yeah, I follow my brain. My son. Two men combusting out of the car, guns and fists, yelling like mad men at us, telling us what we already knew. We were being robbed. At that very moment, my kind loving husband decides, it's a good idea to try and get me help. Get help me get up, excuse me.

Which of course only made it harder for me to get back on my feet. Imagine the scene. As all this is going on, one of those men, excuse me, which of course only made it harder for me to get back on my feet. Imagine the scene. As all this is going on, one of those men, two men, starts coming towards us both, he's still yelling, pointing his tacky, shiny gun at us. All I could register at that instance was the rage in his eyes, the adrenaline on his face. This man didn't know what he was doing.

Harden criminals know to not spook your victims like that. It draws attention and is a recipe for disaster. They were young, barely 18 at that. And there were we, a woman apparently unable to get up and a man hunched over her, awkwardly trying to help to completely vulnerable victims. I got a glimpse of my husband's eyes and immediately knew what was going through his mind at that split second. He was afraid the guy would try and take me with him.

One of the robbers approached us and Lionel kept on trying to protect me, holding my arm tight and partially covering me with his body. We weren't reacting, per se. We all know you never ever do that. It was just instincts surfacing in the face of danger. The problem was, by putting his body in front of mine, Lionel was making it harder for me to hand my purse over to the assailant. Since I'd sort of fallen over and couldn't seem

to untangle it from my shoulder. The stress in that moment. I'm like very stressed out. Seeing this, the guy reaches his hand and pulls it hard, managing to get it loose from me. I wasn't actively holding onto it or anything. I really wanted it all to be over. The robber then starts walking away back to the vehicle.

My husband and I look at each other still frighten to our bones, and that's when we heard it. A loud pow. Still on the floor, Lionel immediately hugs me, even tighter trying to guard me. I look up and from the corner of my eyes, all I can see is the man that took my purse with his back turned to us, smoke coming out of his gun.

I was relieved to see he was not facing us. Maybe they just wanted to keep us down so we couldn't see their car plates. Whatever the reason, the assailants quickly got back in their car and sped away. Lionel and I looked at each other once more and checked to see if we're okay. I finally managed to get up. He's still a bit taken over with a shock, so I grab his arm, tell him let's get the fuck out of here now, and start marching to our building, not 25 meters, 80 feet away. As you can imagine, I couldn't get out of there fast enough. We realized the robbers never asked Lionel for his stuff, so we at least got his keys to get in. I was afraid they would come back to finish the job once they realized there may be more to rob. We got to the building, opened the front gate, then the entrance door, and finally reached the lobby.

It's an older building, so there's this big atrium you have to walk through to get to the stairwell. I'm shaking and walking as fast as I could to the stairs. I had walked something like ten steps when I noticed Lionel's not with me. I turned around to see him standing by the building's entrance with his face white as a ghost. He was holding his shirt up with his left hand. I freeze as I realize what that meant. Oh, no.

I think the bullet scraped me, he said, no. I said, that's a hole. Oh my God. It was a fucking hole. No blood, just a small dark hole in his chest on the left side. Oh, no. I still remember how fast my mind started going at that moment, trying to process the situation. It was one of those long incidents where a nanosecond feels like an eternity.

I knew what had to be done, but I was so overcome by the sensation of helplessness. Different options started rushing through my thoughts. We need to act fast and we need to put out all the stops. It's weird how sometimes your rational mind works faster than your emotions. The reality of it all hadn't really sunk in, but I knew the panic would catch up eventually. So I semi thought, what the hell, I'm gonna wait this whole building up because I have no idea what I'm doing and my husband just fucking got shot. I turned to the first store I see and started banging at it with all my might, shouting

as loud as I could for help. To be honest, I didn't know I had it in me. I still think my screaming will forever be carved into the walls of that building. It wasn't long until people started coming out of their apartment store, AID. Someone handed me a phone to call 190, our crappy version of 911. As others help Lionel sit down on a chair in the lobby. That's when I find out 1-9-0 is just the cops number. The lady on the phone informs me, I have to call another fucking number to get medical

assistance. Why can't she? I'm like, who the fuck thought this system out? I was just about to say that. Still yelling and starting to panic for real, I ask someone else to call an ambulance. We're lucky to live only four blocks from two major hospitals, so that EMTs reach us less than five minutes later. The cops were already there, carrying the hugeest guns

I ever saw in real life, asking me with urgency and their voices to describe the assailant's card of them. But how could I? Realizing it was pointless to try and question me right then and there, they leave in an attempt to find the criminals. It was chaotic. While all this was happening, I kept checking my sweet partner to see if he's okay. He seems calm enough to remember he still has his phone.

At one point, I noticed he was, in fact, already messaging his friends, telling them to come take care of me. To come take care of her. Oh, God. The first thing the paramedics did on arrival was listen to his chest. No lungs had been hit, and his heart sounded fine. The bullet had cauterized the entry wound. So no blood was coming out of that dark hole on the left side of his chest.

We jump on the ambulance and go straight to the hospital. The paramedics try to take care of me too, asking me if I wasn't hurt and telling me everything is going to be okay with Lionel. At the hospital, he's taken somewhere I can't go and I'm left there, feeling lost and hollow. Oh my God, I feel this. Luckily, a friend of my husband's arrived soon after to keep me company. Oh.

Anyone who has ever been in a hospital as a patient or as their family knows that it's cold hallways are filled with endless weight and worry. Oh yes. Time stands still and there's nothing to do but sit and wait in a silence broken only by some empty small talk here and there. Still an utter shock I ask for our friend's phone so I can call my bank and cancel my car as well we wait to hear from Lionel.

It almost felt almost robotic but it was all I could muster. An indefinite amount of time later a doctor comes to talk to us. He tells me Lionel is doing well but needs to say the night in observation. He turns out the fucking bullet had traveled under his fucking skin and around his chest, ending up lodged on the side of his fucking rib cage, a few inches under his fucking armpit. Whoa! It could have been way more serious and fatal. Yeah. But for some reason, the bullet hit him in a weird ass angle and never did enter

the chest cavity. It was inexplicable. Because you guys are about to be together forever. That's exactly it. This is the moment I let it all out. I started sobbing uncontrollably. To the point I almost fell to the floor, all the emotions had finally come up with me when I learned he was going to be okay. The doctors let me see Lionel assuring me he was going to be just fine. After this, I go to our friend's house. I wasn't about to sleep all alone that night. There at 4 a.m., I called my dad. Surprisingly enough, he picks up and I tell him what happened.

He adores my husband, so there was no doubt he was going to hit the road immediately upon hearing the news. It's a four hour drive to where we live. Up until that moment, I had only managed to call my mom while on the ambulance. She'd be jumping on an airplane first thing in the morning to come and see us. I was so thankful they'd both be there with us, but I still felt deeply alone. Laying on our friend's couch, I tried to grapple with what had just happened. It was way too surreal to be true. I eventually cried myself to sleep exhausted. Woke up three hours later, dizzy and swollen, anxious to get back to the hospital

and see my best friend. Oh, Lionel walked out of there that same morning. As we walk back home, we observe the streets full of people rushing to get somewhere, not privy to this tragic event that had engulfed us the night before. It's a bizarre experience. His wound obviously still hurt a lot, but he had no major or lasting complications.

The bullet was never removed. It's still there. This weird lump on the side of his chest to remind us that we survived. As to the robbers, we'll probably never find out their identity. I won't go into the boring details of the investigation that ensued. Suffice to say, I never, not for one second, thought our case was going to be solved. However, something told me deep inside, the criminals wouldn't make it too far before being shot themselves. You don't survive long when you're this inexperienced, impulsive, and violent. It seems to me that such a deep disregard for human life extends to one own life as well. You're right. A couple of weeks later,

I see on the news that two men had been shot by police while robbing people with the exact same MO not far from my place. Apparently, the suspects would rob a car, and then proceed to drive around attacking pedestrians. I was never contacted by the cops in relation to this other case, and it honestly didn't matter to me anymore. By then I knew I had already forgotten the assailants wicked faces, so I'd be of no service anyway. Lionel and I focused on moving forward, on taking care of our mental health, and on overcoming the trauma from that night. I'm happy to say that we're both doing awesome,

even through the pandemic, and I no longer get startled over the sound of a car driving past us on the street. The experience left a scar on our souls, that's for sure, but we've learned to see it as part of our story. Together, we survived. Oh, I'm like literally about to cry. I know.

Sorry if this was way too long. It was not. No. It is the first time I actually tell this story to anyone with all the details. Oh, thank you. I guess this is the time to say, keep it weird, but take it away, Ash.

Not so weird, you're a giant piece of shit and you just shoot somebody in the middle of the street for their literal fucking curse when they're going to cancel their cards anyway, because why wouldn't you even think of that? And just never shoot somebody because that's really fucking weird and you don't need to do that. But keep it weird enough that you are Lionel and Amelia and that your relationship is so

pure and beautiful and that you love each other so much and protect each other. Yes! Like what the fuck guys, you are beautiful and I love your story. I know. Oh seriously. I'm just literally like holy shit, I just love you guys. I'm so glad Lionel's okay. I am too.

Oh, thank you so much, Amelia, for that. And guys, this has been amazing. Seriously. And we have a whole other one coming out check, because we can't let them all just sit there in our inbox. So another one, add free this week. You'll get three episodes this week,

because it's fucking spooky season. We deserve it. All right, so we love you guys, and we love you, Patronas' and we hope you keep listening and we hope you keep it weird. But not so weird that you have a piano that just randomly plays by itself in your room

because that's like, we're not really awesome. Definitely keep it so weird that you have a little like frickin' recorder thing that's also a bomb, like definitely keep it that weird. Do not keep it so weird that you turn into a baby demon, like just like definitely don't go about. Do not keep it so weird that you turn into a baby demon, like just like definitely don't cope on that. Don't do that. Don't keep it so weird that you rob people and shoot them,

but definitely keep it so weird that like your body is just like, I didn't even get shot, get out of here, or stay in as a reminder of the fact that I'm a sa-va-va. And definitely keep it so weird that your Beatles fanmom comes to visit you in the afterlife and you kinda like heal a little bit of your trauma. Yeah, keep it that weird. Some keep it weird, some don't.

Guys, you guys rocked this one. See you in a couple days for the next. Bye! Tudils. Hey, Prime members, you can listen to morbid, Early, and Add Free on Amazon Music. Download the Amazon Music app today, or you can listen Add Free with Wondery Plus and Apple podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey. Flash Survey.