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Some very big news today, weirdos. Are you ready?

Yeah, of course I am.

So a year and a half ago, I released my very first little book, Baby.

They call it a debut.

A daybut. A debut.

It's a debut. A debut.

It was The Butcher and the Ren. And you guys made my legitimately wildest dreams come true and made me a New York Times best-selling author, which those words don't even feel like they should be coming out of my mouth, but I am eternally grateful. And now, truly, truly, truly, because of your enthusiasm and support, I am so fucking excited to announce there will be a sequel. Party. A sequel called The Butcher Game, and it's coming out September 17th.

I'm quite literally so excited to I'm going to die. So close.

We're so close to it. It's ready to go. Ready to go. It's going to be out there. So the Butcher Game picks up right where The Butcher and the Ren left off. So if you have not read The Butcher and the Ren yet, what are you doing?

Oh, my Come on. Go get it. Get it.

Go read it. Go listen to it. Go do something like that.

Injust it.

I'm going to spoil it. So stop listening now. If you have not read that book, go read it and then come back to me, okay? Thank you. But also go get the sequel on September 17th. But this time we are going to some new territory. We are headed to Massachusetts, baby.

I love it there.

We're headed to the Berkshire, specifically, where our ruthless serial killer, Jeremy Rose, has now fled New Orleans and is on his way up to Massachusetts to evade capture. Dr. Wren Muller, being astute as hell, you know her, she sees that there is a fresh trail of bodies that seem to be calling her back to the case. But by following that trail, is she going to walk right into Jeremy's Cap, maybe. I don't know. Potentially. This one is a truly twisted cat and mouse game, and I mean it. You've been warned this one's twisted. It's going to culminate in a violent clash of past and present where Wren is prepared to sacrifice everything just to bring Jeremy to justice.

I'm literally so excited.

This one, it's longer, guys. It's longer. It is twisted, I'm telling you. But what's really cool about this, besides being really exciting that there's a second one coming out. Our friends at Burns & Noble are offering exclusive signed copies for a limited time. So head to the links in the podcast episode show notes for more details, and we'll share them out, too. There's also going to be a fun poster for this one, too. We did that for the first book.

I can't wait to see it.

I know. I'm very excited about it. So pre order now wherever you like to buy books and receive a signed poster with your order. So head to thebutchergame. Com to claim your free poster while supplies last. There's not going to be an endless amount as much as I would love for that to be. I can't thank you enough for being on this truly incredible author journey with me. You guys rule, you made this happen, and I hope you love all that's to come in the Dr. Ren Muller series. Yay. I said what I said.

A series.

A series. Hey, weirdos. I'm Elaina. I'm Ash. And this is Morbid.

It's Listener tales, which means it's brought to you by you, for you, from you, and all about you, bitch. Hell, yeah, brother.

We're excited about this one. This seems like a crazy Crazy, wild, fun, spooky listener tale.

It's giving unhinged.

Especially with the first one that you have cued up.

I love it. I saw that one and it was the first in the little folder, and I was like, We're doing this one. Thank you. You're like, Yeah, that's it. I was like, I don't even know. I'm not reading any further. We're doing this one. This is it. Should we just start?

I think we should. All right, cool.

This one's called Listener tales. My dead grandma saw me give my first blowy. Welcome to the show.

Welcome to Listener tales. All right. Now you see why I was like, okay.

You were like, I can't argue this. All right. I'm so sorry. It's loading. You shouldn't be sorry. How dare you? It's so weird. It's never done that before.

How dare you? Our internet's being a little like, cookey crazy.

It is. And then it was like, do you want to take a tour? And I was like, I use Google Docs. Do you want to take a tour? I don't want to take a tour of Google Docs. I'm good.

I was just going to ask of where.

In Google Docs, I guess.

I thought they were just asking, do you want to take a tour? Just period. Anywhere? Do you just want to go on a tour? Sure, I guess. All right.

It says, Hey, Deb, Deb, you read that right. And hopefully I'm making it through your amazing gatekeeper skills. You did. You did. At this point, with a subject lined like that, I don't think you really have the ability not to read this one.

Again, you're right.

Correct. And yes, sadly, it's completely accurate. If I've made it through the gatekeeper, hello, my amazing morbid weirdos. Hey. Hello. If you're reading this, it's time for the standard poopoo in the pantaloon's and shitting all of the dicks. You guys can call me Claudia and feel free to use that name as it's not my real one. Hey, Claudia. Hey, Claudia. My dead grandma already knows what I've done, so there's no reason to bring shame onto the living members of my family as well. If my dad ever heard this story, he may join his mother on the other side immediately.

I love the gallows humor in this right now.

It's so good. I also apologize in advance for the grammatical errors that I inevitably will make because this is a long one, but well worth it. I promise, and grammar is hard, especially with ADHD. Also, I would put-a-fa it if I could-a-fa. I'll try to attach it as a word, Doc. You did. But I learned- You did. But I learned back when you could do the cool palm tree border and printers made of rapid fire noises. Oh my God.

The palm tree border.

That was the first computer class I ever took in third grade. We did the Palm tree borders. And I thought that was ground-breaking. That's nuts. But Claudia says, I'm old and without to show me how to work this newfangled technology crop.

I loved it, too, that your first computer class was in third grade.

Yeah.

My first computer class was in high school.

Well, yeah, because you're 10 years older than me.

That's wild.

It's crazy. I'm a new member, relatively speaking. I found you not that long ago, but I work eight-hour shifts with you in my ear, so I've definitely been plowing through the episodes rather quickly. I do want to admit the first time I turned in, I had just had words with a coworker because coworkers are jerks sometimes, and I was in a horrible mood. That first time, I listened for about two minutes to you guys laughing and joking and shut it off and went, 'Nope, not for me, ' and I moved on. Trust the process here. I know I sound like a douche. You don't.

You were going through it.

No, it's fine.

You didn't want to hear us laughing at you. Yeah, fuck that.

At that moment, I needed my ears to be filled with angst that can only be satisfied by singing along to the entire Jagged Little Pill album from a lot of super set. Exactly.

I got to hold that against you.

If you know, you know. A few weeks later, while in a much better mood, and none of my coworkers had annoyed me, I listened and I was immediately and completely hooked. Yeah.

You were in the right mind frame, and that's okay.

We accept that. So I wanted to say with 100% scientific certainty that the only reason that anyone wouldn't like your show is because they're fucked in the head at the time they listen. And like I said, That shit's official. I did a case study. She did. I mean, Claudia did a case study.

That's fair. We're going to use this forever.

That's science. I work in production and it's very loud, and I have no interaction with the people around me all day long, even though I can clearly see them. It's just too loud to interact, and you have to be continuously moving. It's so weird to be in a room full of people and still be basically alone. For somebody like me who loves to word vomit on people on the daily, it's very hard to not have that connection.

That is really strange to see people all day, but not in direct.

But not talk to them. I don't like a loud environment.

Oh, this would destroy me.

No, it stresses me out. But that's where you guys came in, and we have imaginary conversations all the time. And Ash, you and I do tell the same jokes often. Hell, I love how you both say fuck a lot. It makes me feel like I've truly found my family and how you're empathetic and really care for the victims. I love the caution that you approach your listeners with, but it still gives the details that you know we're looking for. I mean, this is called morbid, am I right?

Precisely.

You're right. I truly feel like I hang out with my friends all day while I'm at work, and I have to thank you for saving my sanity with what little there is left of it. I love you.

Gee whiz. This is so nice, Claudia.

That was so nice, Claudia. I know. Okay, I think that's enough gushing. I'm sure you want to get to the part where my dead grandma sees me giving a blowy. And, hell, I can't blame you. It's a pretty freaking awesome story now that I now that I don't feel the overwhelming level of shame that I did for many, many years whenever the memory popped in my head. Instant cringe. Oh, that being said, if listeners have their kids listening with... I'm like, I hope you don't. That being said, if listeners have their kids listening with them, earmuffs, you all. Earmuffs, you all. This mention's bobbing on the knob. Earmuffs, you all. Earmuffs, you all. All right, back to my story. My grandmother was like my mom. We were together all the time for most of my life, and I was definitely her favorite. That's the best. When I was 17, she lived in Florida and I lived in New York. I'd recently moved back up to New York to be with my boyfriend because, teenage hormones and shit make you do dumb stuff. Like when you'd be on the phone and you'd say, You hang up.

No, you hang up. No, you hang up. And then you would end up falling asleep on the phone together because it was just so nauseatingly fucking adorable. Yeah, that shit.

Absolutely. Except I always hated the phone. So you'd be like, You hang up. And I was like, Okay. Click.

I love that. I definitely did the, No, you hang up, which is so stupid. But adorable. Just fucking hang up. But adorable.

Young lerv.

We'll call him Dave, mostly because that's his actual real name. And guys don't get slut-shamed. You probably get high five for this story. So fuck him. We'll use his real name. Hell, yeah. And I also saw, Don't worry, everybody Nadia sent us an image where Dave consented to his name being said. Yeah, so don't worry. I wasn't allowed to talk to Dave on the phone after nine o'clock. So me being a young fucking MacGyver, badass, I went to Radio Shack and I picked up a phone line splitter. Wow. You are taking it back. I never experienced a phone line splitter. Holy shit. That's pretty... That's like, badass. You are MacGyver. Oh my God. Wow. Did you ever do a phone line splitter?

I think I tried to once, or I think Papa tried to make one happen in our house. I remember that being a thing.

Because then do you get your own phone line from it?

Yeah, you're able to split the phone line.

But so only calls could be coming to you where other... It could make you be on the phone at the same time in the house, but with different people?

I think that was the idea. Okay. Yeah.

I don't know about this. This is foreign to me. But in our home office, I attached the splitter behind the desk and bought my own awesome cordless phone, the kind with the metal antenna that télescoped out. Yes. Oh, my God. Yes. One of those bad boys I bought with my allowance. Take that mom and your dumb phone rules. Side note, those last two sentences, Other than being complete run-ons, make me sound so freaking old. Yes, Youngsters. I did happen to get my Internet in the mail on a CD. You're speaking to Elaina Soul.

She's been stopping. I talk about that all the time. The AOL CDs where you get like 20 free hours of AOL on a CD. That shit was gold. Yeah. That was like Charlie getting the golden ticket. You would open that shit and be like, Yeah.

That's wild.

Internet.

That is wild. So one of the evenings after my parents went to bed and I was using my MacGyver's sneaky, sneak cordless phone in my bedroom talking to Dave, we were on the phone, and I'm sure gushing about our pure eternal love or some crap like that. I started sobbing hysterically out of nowhere. I could not even get any words out. And it was to the point that Dave was terrified because he thought something happened. He thought something was happening to me. I was overcome with all assuming grief suddenly. I felt my heart breaking into a thousand pieces, and I could barely breathe. It was a dark, cold, snowy January evening when a huge flash of light illuminated the entire sky, so much so that my boyfriend on the phone, three miles away from me, saw the light and yelled, What the fuck was that? I was able to sob out the words, That was my grandmother. She just died. I have to go. My dad's going to call me now. And I hung up. The crazy part was that I had no reason to think that's what was happening at this moment. But I knew I could feel her.

Almost like if you've ever seen the movie Powder and he touched the deer, he could feel it dying, slipping away into darkness. That's what I felt. I felt my grandmother leave this Earth. And when that white flash filled the night sky, I knew she was gone.

I'm not kidding you. Can you see the goosebumps on my arm? Chills.

Yes. Holy shit. My God. I'm so sorry. That's awful.

Also, taking it back to powder as well.

I don't know that movie. Sean Patrick Flinnery is in that Heyo. I quickly turned off my phone and just like I had said, two minutes later, the real phone rang. It was my dad who let me know that my grandmother had passed away at home in her bed. Wow. Wow. That's just bonkers that you knew. Wow. The next day was Martin Luther King Day, so we actually didn't have school. And thankfully, though, because I was so distraught, Dave came over to console me. Remember when you were just a ball of anxiety and hormones all at once? Well, the consoling started turning into the heavy petting And then somehow, even though I was the one grieving, I ended up being the one in the kneeling position. I'm literally obsessed with you. I'm cackling. I guess he was just trying to wipe away my... Definitely if you have kids earmuffs. I guess he was trying to wipe away my tears with his penis, but I digress. I'm screaming. And then mid-mouth hug, I felt it. Mid-mouth hug? No, not mid-mouth hug. And I don't mean it was anything for my boyfriend. I mean, I felt a presence, and it was overwhelming and filling the entire room.

So I stopped mid-stroke with a mouthful of man beat. I'm having a mental panic attack realizing that I can feel my grandmother's recently departed spirit in the room with us, and there was no denying it. What is happening? No. Then somehow it got worse. Dave gasped, Oh my God, she's here. Shut up. I'm You need to put your man meet away because I can't do this.

Shut up.

The feeling in presence was so overwhelming that even he could feel that she was there. Hopefully she wasn't there to critique by technique because holy heaven, did everyone else know that you're not really supposed to blow? Damn you, Catholic school sex education failing me again. No, no, stop the next sentence. Oh my God, this is just kidding. This is the best listener tale we've ever read. Are you guys ready? So there I am, cranking out some raspberries on the skin flute while my dead grandma was second-hand cringing with embarrassment for me. I wish I could tell... I wish I could tell you... I wish I could get through this. I wish I could tell you what happened after she made herself numb, but I'm pretty positive that I blacked out from sheer embarrassment and emotion. I can't I can tell you that for a very long time afterwards, I did have to do a ghost vibe check to make sure that... To make sure the grand wasn't getting another performance. Although if she did, I had improved greatly. Anywhore. Anywhore.

If you're listening to this podcast, then chances are good you are a fan of the Strange dark Misterious. And if that's true, then you're in luck. Because once again, Mr. Ballen podcast, Strange, Dark, and Mysterious Stories, is available everywhere you get your podcasts. Each week on the Mr. Ballen podcast, you'll hear news stories about inexplicable encounters, shocking disappearances, true crime cases, and everything in between. Like our recent episode titled White Dust. After a middle-aged couple fail to answer their daughter's messages and calls, the daughter drives the few hours to her parents house to check on them home. But after arriving and seeing both her parents' cars in the driveway, the daughter gets an uneasy feeling and just can't stomach going inside. To hear the rest of that story and hear hundreds more stories like it, follow Mr. Ballon podcast on Amazon Music or wherever you get your podcasts. Prime members can listen early and add free on Amazon Music.

Hey, weirdos. After seeing our Celeb lebs turn up an old Hollywood glamor at the Oscars and other award shows, I am craving more from this golden era, and feeling a bit more nostalgic than usual. If you are, too, you should scroll down our feed just a bit and join us for episode 551, The Unsolved murder of Georget Bauerdorff. After a night of dancing, Georget's lifeless body was found in her bathtub, face down in a shallow pool of water. The police investigation concluded this was no accident. Georgette was the daughter of a Wall Street financier and an independent oilman who often went out of her way to help those less fortunate than her. But was her generosity her undoing? And does her set the stage for another high-profile Hollywood case? Hold on to your buts for this story. You can find this episode by following Morbid and scrolling back a little bit to episode 551, The Unsolved murder of Georgette Bauerdorff, or by searching Morbid Georgette, wherever you listen to podcasts. If I had stopped there and written that... Oh my God. This is so good. If I had stopped there and written that there were stories where Ghost Graham saved my life and my husband's life, you guys would have said, damn it, why didn't you include them?

Plot twist. I did. Yes. Even though my grandmother had seen her Jezebel granddaughter in action, she clearly thought I was still worth saving because there are numerous occasions where the only way that I'm still alive is due to her angelic intervention. When my grandmother originally passed away, the movie Titanic had come out right around that time. And the Céline Dion song, My Heart Will Go On, always made me cry. Fast forward a few years later, I'm driving like a maniac, like I always did, in my little geo tracker, which was basically a soda can with wheels and a diaper for a convertible top. So, really safe. One night, I'm driving this death trap down a three-lane highway that all lanes go in one direction. It's absolutely pouring, but I'm still driving fast because I'm young and I'm dumb and I'm indestructible. Obviously. Suddenly, Céline Dion, My Heart Will Go On comes on the radio. It's been a few years, so I just got chills immediately. It's been a few years, so it's not one that they play often, but still, any time I hear it, it brings me back and immediately makes me tear up and think of her.

With tears filling my eyes and the rain coming down so hard, I have to slow down a little bit. And then the chorus hit and I really started crying and couldn't see. So I had to slow down even more. I'm in the left lane, and out of a side street, a car turns into my lane going the wrong way. Oh, shit. Headed right for me with its headlights blinding me. There's a car to my right and a guardrail to the left of me, so with nowhere to go, I I had to slam on my brakes. With the slick road conditions, I started to skid, and he did the same, and we both propelled toward each other uncontrollably, and I closed my eyes waiting for impact. But it never happened. With the sound of the wipes on full speed and the heavy rain hitting the windshield, I opened my eyes slowly, and the chorus out again, You are safe in my heart, and my heart will go on.

I just got chilly.

I got the, warm. Yeah, there it is. He had skidded to a stop so close to touching that I could no longer see his headlights. You could barely fit a piece of paper between our cars, but we never actually connected. Holy shit. If that specific song had not come on the radio at that exact second, causing me to cry, forcing me to slow down, I would have plowed into him at 80 miles an hour in my little tin can of a car.

You would not be writing this story.

No way. And what a fucking shame that would be. That song and my Graham brought me a few seconds or bought me a few seconds and saved my life and possibly the other drivers as well. Another instance with me driving down a three-lane highway. There are a lot of them in my area, so it was not that crazy. I was on them multiple times a day. But I was driving along, coming down a hill with a bend to the left. There was a light that had just turned green. The first lane had a car in it, the second lane had an 18-wheeler, and the third lane, from what I could see, was empty. I was coming around the bend. I couldn't see around the 18-wheeler, but went to go into that third lane so that I could pass the rig that was still just starting to get moving. The The wheel was violently jerked out of my hand and pulled back to the left, keeping me in the second lane. I thought I hit something like one of those potholes that makes your car shake and your spirit leaves your body for a moment. Oh, yeah.

But no, I was physically not able to turn the steering wheel to go around the right side of the 18-wheeler. I slammed on my brakes trying to figure out what the heck was happening. Was my wheel damaged? Did it fall off? I ended up staying behind the big truck, and as we just started going to go past the light, I saw it. There was a motorcycle stalled in that right lane, still sitting at the light. Shit. How I was approaching the turn, the 18-wheeler was obscuring the view of it. And if I had passed around that right side of the truck at 65 miles an hour on the blind turn, I likely would have killed the motorcyclist and possibly even myself. But I know that my grandmother pulled the wheel from my hand and didn't allow me to go into that lane. Again, she saved my little trollop ass again. Damn, her little angel wings must get tired. Then again, a few years later, she saved not Not my life, but my husband's and an entire plane full of people. Damn. One day, I was driving along and I got a vision so strong I had to pull over.

It was of my husband on a plane and I could see him taking off. And a few minutes after they were in the air, the plane was malfunctioning, and it was starting to fall from the sky. Sorry, Elaina.

I'm having a moment.

Elaina, that's one of her biggest fears. Yeah. So vividly, he called me and I answered the phone and he told me they were going down and that he loved me. This was not just a daydream or something I was imagining. It was what was going to happen. It was very clear. I also saw myself give my husband's eulogy and be at the church with his casket. Oh my God. Jesus Christ. The truly terrifying part was that my husband was away on business currently and was scheduled to fly the next morning to come back home. I called him immediately, frantically telling him to go rent a car or ride with the trucks that would be bringing the gear back, that he should travel with one of them. But do not get on that plane because you're going to die. Oh, my God. Understandably, my husband was clearly startled because he answered the phone while at work to his wife yelling, You're going to die, and was taken aback and jokingly said, Okay, crazy lady, I got to get back to work, and he had to go. After we hung up the phone, I realized how I sounded like a raving lunatic.

He still had many hours of... Oh, man, that's poor bit. He still had many hours of work to go before he was able to get back into his hotel room. But when he did, he called me as soon as he got there. Once we started chatting, he did not bring my cougou phone call at all. I think he was hoping that I'd forgotten about it, or maybe if we ignored it, it would go away. Clearly not the best for relationships, but hey, we're human. It had been a long day, and he said he'd call me in the morning before he was heading out. I barely slept that night because I knew the next day I was going to be a widow. Oh my God. You poor thing. I have a crazy fear of flying just like Elaina. Oh, man. I'm sorry. But I never projected it on my husband. I could only assume that's what he thought I was doing as he called me from the airport that morning, and I told him one last time, Don't get on that plane. He told me not to worry and that he would be home in just a few short hours and I would see that it was all going to be okay.

My husband has flown hundreds of times for work. He flies all over the world and planes don't bother him, even though he's been in one that's been struck by lightning before. How fucking crazy. I would never get on a plane again. But hey, that's me.

Don't worry. They have all these systems that disperse the lightning, the electricity out on the wings of the plane and out into the atmosphere.

Listen to our Omen episode. You did a really good job explaining that.

Because it made me feel better. Yeah.

He told me that he had to shut off his phone as they were about to take off. I told him I loved him and we got off the phone because I could see my please were not going anywhere, and I didn't want to totally freak him out anymore on his flight. When we hung up, I cried, and I screamed to my grandmother to save my husband's life. I begged her with everything I had in me to watch over my husband and make sure that plane never took off because they were all going to die. I said, Graham, do not let that plane take off if you love me at all, do not let it happen. Again, I saw all of it play out so vividly, and I saw him call me as the plane was going down to tell me goodbye. I knew it was inevitable. His flight was at 9:30 AM, and I was a sobbing mess in my bed, pleading with my grandmother to save him. At 9:56, my phone was ringing, and it was my husband's name on caller ID. My heart shattered, and I stared at the screen not knowing if I was even strong enough to answer this call.

Could I be strong enough to hear his final goodbye? Right before it went to voicemail, I reluctantly answered, knowing my life was about to crumble. I sheepishly said, Hello. My husband replied immediately and loudly, I will never doubt you again. What? Oh my God, what happened? He told me that as soon as the doors closed, he was filled with dread for the first time ever while flying. The plane began to back up and all the power shut off. Everything turned off. It came back on and they tried again. Seven times they tried to back up and seven times the power shut off completely. My husband flagged down a flight attendant and asked what was happening because he wanted to get off this plane. People in the next row heard him and immediately chimed in that they wanted off, too. In the next few minutes, everyone wanted off. When the power came back on, they were able to taxi back to the gate and let everyone off. He called me to tell me he was going to rent a car and drive the eight hours back home because he was not getting onto a plane today.

Holy shit. My grandmother did it. She made sure that plane never took off, and she saved my husband's life and all the other passengers' lives. Wow. I have chills that are just the consistent chills. I have chills that have chills. They're not going away. Wow. I know the first story was totally funny and embarrassing, and I'm great. And I'm great goofing during that one. But I do get serious when thinking about how if I didn't have my Guardian Angel grandma myself or my husband might not be here.

That's unbelievably crazy.

It really is. I believe it. Those are just some of my crazy stories. Honestly, there's so many more, but I don't want to take over a total Listener tales episode, although I probably already did.

No, thank you for this.

I love it. I've included pics of me and my fur babies. Mandatory, am I right? Hell, yeah. Correct. Don't read their names because people will know who my embarrassed ass is. I'm not saying them. Oh, those are great names, though. Yeah, those are fantastic names. Just trust us. They're great names. My very alive husband and myself and my BJ boyfriend Dave from back in the day, 20 years ago. Those pictures were included. I also included a screenshot where I told him I was going to send this story in for a listener tale. And not to worry, I would change our names. And he told me not to change his because how else was he supposed to get famous? You will notice, though, he did not ask what story because he damn well knew what story. Because even 20 plus years later, you don't forget Ghost Graham watching you get done. Thanks, weirdos. Stay weird, but don't take it away, Ash. Keep it weird, but not so weird that your grandma sees you to do your first blow job because that's absolutely terrible and you'll never move on.

I'm literally obsessed.

Oh, my God. Claudia is queen. That is among the best listener tales we've ever received.

That was so funny.

And also so- Doing raspberries on a skin flute.

And also that was so touching and so sweet and so amazing.

You took us on a journey, Claude. You really did. I love.

You really did. And oh, my God, you and your husband are beautiful. I know.

And the wedding pictures. Yes, I'm obsessed.

Oh, why? That was amazing. That was amazing. I'm obsessed. I'm I'm obsessed with you. I'm obsessed with it all.

And grandma's so pretty. Ghost grandma. Grandma's beautiful. Did you see grandma?

Seriously, Ghost grandma for the win.

Seriously.

She's working overtime, that girl.

Can we talk about your visions? You're fucking like, damn.

That vision? And the fact that as soon as for your husband to suddenly be like, you know what? I went off this plane. And then for everyone else to be like, me too. Because a lot of people will ignore that. They won't listen to their gut. So it's like your grandma was being like, no, everybody get the fuck off the plane.

Grandma was working OT seven times. I'd be like, I'm opening the window. I'm getting out.

You are getting me off this plane or I'm causing an international incident that will make me get off this plane.

At that point, seriously. Like, oh, what a wild tale. All right. All the way through.

So I guess what we will do now, how do we follow up on that? We'll go to the next one is Listener tales, You Weerdos. Perfect.

Like that.

And This listener's name is Josh. And you included some photography because you're a photographer and holy shit.

Wow, that first one is so eerie.

Your photography is so viby.

So cool. I love it. The bicycle one, the trike. Okay.

I dig this a lot.

Oh, the book.

I dig this.

Wow, you're really talented.

Damn, Josh. This is great. Damn, Josh. All right. It says, Hey, Ash and Elaina. First off, I love the pod. Thank you. My name is Josh. Hi, Josh. I'm a photographer from Toronto, Canada. We love Canadians.

And Poutine.

I've always been drawn to supernatural and true crime stories, so naturally, this podcast drew me in right away. Me and my girlfriend have been listening together for the past year, and you two normally join us on many trips up to our cottage. Oh, I love that. Oh, I love that. This might be a little bit of a tale, but it's one of my favorite stories that I have to this day. I would say that I've had more than the normal amount of supernatural things happen to me. The childhood house that I grew in was haunted, but it was a chill spirit to the point where when I never felt threatened, but things definitely happened that couldn't be explained. That's how we felt in our house. Yeah, exactly. My mom's house she grew up in was the opposite. That spirit was a dick. It would do things like turn on the gas stove in the middle of the night. Oh my God. Or hold a pillow down over my sleeping grandpa's face.

That sounds like a demon.

Yeah, that's a diamond. Lots of stories there, too, but this one is still my favorite. This one takes place in a more than spooky location, an abandoned asylum. To give you a little bit of a backstory, my good friend Matt and myself are photographers. Again, phenomenal photography. If we can share your photography, we'll reach out and ask because I would love to share it.

It would actually be perfect to use for this Listener tales episode.

So we'll reach out and make sure that you're cool with it, but we would love to share it because he's killing it. My good friend Matt and myself are photographers. We've gone on a couple of photography trips to shoot abandoned buildings in places that are left to decay through time. I love that photography, too. It's so cool. Decaying abandoned buildings. I love that shit. A lot of the places have quite a bit of history behind them, and more often than not, it's not pretty. I'm talking about abandoned hospitals, asylums, churches, morgs. You're saying a morgue isn't pretty? No, I'm just kidding. What are you trying to say? These are the places where spirits tend to overstay their welcome. This particular occasion, we were headed to Letchworth Village in upstate New York. This place was heaven for us. At its peak, Letchworth Village consisted of over 130 buildings spread out over many acres of land. It was closed off to the public, as most of these abandoned sites were. But as usual, that didn't stop us. Party. We did our research. Party. We did our research and hopped in the car, bags packed, and a list of spots to hit along the way.

This sounds like a fucking awesome trip.

I was like, I want to plan a trip like this.

Let's go. Letchworth opened in 1911 and was there to give care to the mentally impaired, epileptic, and poor children. That's sad. Not sure why the last one ended up there, but hey, to each their own. History is rough. Now, the history in this place was dark. When I say dark, I mean like wearing a blindfold in a basement cellar with all the lights turned off while being covered up by a burlap sack dark. Holy shit. Due to inadequate funding and improper care of the residents, including children, there were reports of patients being found unclothed, unbathed, and neglected. It's so sad. These places are always so horrifying. Just so bleak. There was a ton of abuse towards patients and staff, which included incidents of, trigger warning here. This is going to get a little rough, everybody. So skip over if you don't want to hear it. Including incidents of rape, beatings, and testing done on patients, and I'm sure there were many more things that happened on these grounds that would make you sick to think of. Despite the doctors doing testing on these patients, there was one good thing to come out of this place.

It's where they developed a vaccine for polio in the 1950s. Oh, wow. It's a pretty good thing. I would say so. This test vaccine was given to an eight-year-old boy who was given the dose, and when he experienced no side effects, it was then administered to 19 more child patients. These experimentation trials were the first step towards a better polio vaccine, and the doctor was praised for his efforts. But just think if it didn't work and had some horrible side effects. I bet it would all be swept under the rug and more testing on innocent children would have continued. Anyways, I'm starting to get distracted because of the history here, but let's get back to it. After about eight hours of driving, we pulled up to the area the village was close to. Since it was fenced off and abandoned, it had been overgrown and not well maintained. It was a bit of a trek to get to. We parked the car in a discrete location and grabbed our bags, hopped the fence, and started our hike into the forest. After about 10 minutes of walking, we stumbled onto our first building. This sounds fucking awesome.

It sounds like a movie.

The excitement and anticipation grew as we made our way closer to the decaying structure. Windows shattered and a front door swinging back and forth in the wind, paint chipping off the walls and moss growing on the roof. It was perfect. Exactly what we hoped when we first looked into this place. Once we got inside, it got even better. It was like everyone here just stood up from what they were doing and walked away, leaving everything in place for the next 50 years. I love That sentence is so great. Like everyone just stood up from what they were doing and walked away.

Yeah, you can feel that.

There were bed frames lined up in a row, dirty ripped mattresses on some of them still, patient files scattered across the floor, toys left broken, covered in dirt and dust. Everything left behind. It was crazy. The craziest thing was the writing on the walls in some of the rooms. Diving into the mind of someone stuck in an asylum was a chilling experience. We could have stayed here all day and explored, but seeing as the sun would eventually go down. It wasn't a spot we felt like spending the night. We continued exploring the various buildings, each one a little different, and spent hours shooting and wandering around the grounds. We decided to stop and have a smoke out in front of one of the buildings. Bad habit, I know, but we're just chatting about the exploration while going through the photos on our cameras. Looking off into the distance towards the north, this is important later, we can faintly see two figures walking towards us. Judging by the speed they were moving, it didn't seem to be security or anyone that made us feel like running, so we stayed put and waited until they got closer.

It took about 10 minutes for the couple to make their way close enough to us to make out who they were. To our surprise, it was an elderly couple, husband and wife, who were going for a walk together as they normally did through the grounds of the village. This didn't seem odd to us at the time, so we chatted with them for about 15 minutes while standing outside. They said they didn't know much about the area but frequently walked around here. We, on the other hand, knew a shitload about the grounds, so they were more than happy to hear a little history lesson on the village from us while we talked. They explained that they had walked together here for the last 20 years or so and enjoyed hearing about the grounds they spent so much time on. We chatted a little more and then said our goodbyes, and as they continued to walk away from us at the speed of an 80-year-old couple, we waited and watched them walk south out of our view as we were trespassing and breaking into some of these buildings. Once they were gone, we turned and walked in the opposite direction to put some space between us and headed north into the next building.

I remember they went south. This was exactly the same as the last building we were in, so decided to head out and keep walking to see what we could find. As we turned to start walking, we noticed that off in the distance to the north again, we could see faintly two figures walking towards us. I looked over at Matt and said in a surprise voice, Hey, there's another two people coming towards us. We were both a bit shocked by this, so the grounds were closed off, but neither of us had any idea how shocked we were about to be in a few minutes. We continued walking towards the figures, and once we got closer, we realized it was the same old couple we had run into 15 minutes ago. There's no way that's them. It can't be. We passed them and waved briefly saying, Hi, you again, to the couple and watching them walk off once again to the distance. This is when it got weird. Both Matt and myself were looking at each other with confused looks on our faces. Just a few minutes before, we had watched this couple walk off into the south, out of view.

But somehow, they made a full loop of the grounds and were walking in the same direction they originally came. These grounds were big, hundreds of acres big. In order for this to make any sense, they would have had to have gotten in a car as soon as they were out of view the first time, sped through the closed off overgrown roads parked, gotten out, and started walking towards us again from the north. As I mentioned before, the couple walked the speed you would imagine an 80-year-old couple to walk. Slow as fuck. They wouldn't have been able to run. No, sprint all the way around to end up where they did. I think it was a good 15 minutes Matt and I sat there trying to figure out how this was possible, running every possibility through our heads, but none of them made any sense. It would have been hard for us, two 30-year-old guys at the time, to cover the amount of ground this 80-year-old couple did in 15 minutes. The creepy thing about Letchworth Village is that when it closed down in 1996, it was extremely overcrowded. It said that many of the patients just mingled into the surrounding areas and blended into society.

I looked over at Matt and asked him if he remembered how old the couple was. And after some quick math, we realized that they would have been in their early teens when Letchworth was in its prime. Oh, that gave me chill. They said they had been walking around these grounds for the last 20 years or so, which would be the amount of time the grounds have been abandoned for. I remember turning to Matt and saying to him, What if they've been walking around these grounds for the last 20 years? Because they never left.

Oh, my God. I'm lobbin so hard right now.

The hair on my arms and neck stands up when I think about saying that to him. Dude, my arms, I just got full chiller.

I feel like my back has chills.

We decided this was when we were going to call it a day and head back to the hotel for the night. I recall Matt saying to me on the way that if we run into this couple again, he's going to lose his shit, especially after thinking that they were patients who never left the grounds. Every so often, I'll have to call Matt when explaining this story to someone so he can verify what happened and tell the exact same side of things. But every time I tell it, the hair stands up straight when I get to the part about running into them for the second time. Thankfully, we didn't run into them or any security on the way out and made it back to our car waiting outside the forest we walked in from earlier that day. To this day, I wonder about that old couple and still can't make any sense of the whole situation Were they patients? Were they ghosts? Are they still wandering around there today, years later? I guess we'll never know, but I got one of my favorite stories out of it, and I'll have that forever. That's all for now.

Maybe I'll write in again about the time we got separated in another asylum and had to backtrack alone through the tunnels underneath the building in the pitch black, looking for a very expensive camera that got left behind. Oh my God. Or the time we walked into an abandoned morgue and could visibly see the breath in front of your face in the middle of summer in 30-degree weather. That's for another time. But if you guys read this one, that'll be enough for me. Once more, love the show. Love you, too. And keep it weird, but not so weird that you. You know what? Fuck it. We don't need to bring that old couple back for a third time. That was great. Wow, Josh. Also, I want to hear those other stories. So yes, please.

Please write those in. And also we are definitely going to reach out because people need to see these photographs.

They're so cool.

The bike one is my favorite. The bike and the book.

Yeah, the book is really. So We'll definitely reach out and make sure that you're cool with us. So we'll give you credit and all that, but we love to share them for you. That story- Haunting. Needs to be... It needs to be part of a movie or it needs to be a movie. That whole thing is just so chilling.

When you were reading it, I was picturing it as a scene in a movie.

I could see it in my head.

100 %.

That was so good.

I wonder who they were.

I know. The idea that they're patients that never left.

It's so sad.

But they're just holding hands, walking together. I'm like, oh. I know.

It's interesting.

Damn.

All right. Next one is Listener Tale. Who the fuck is that kid and why is he in her bedroom?

You know? That's great. We're always wondering.

We're always wondering. All right. It says, Hey, Lena. Hey, Ash. First, let me say, you bitches me through my every fucking day. Hell, yeah. Hell, yeah. I listen to the podcast. Love it. While I'm working, and I believe with every five member of my annoyed sick of stupid people being that the two of you are what keep me from punching people in the face daily. I love that. So thank you for keeping me out of jail and for the abundance of gruesome, horrifying, hysterical what the fuck just happened episodes that you provide. Enough with the Gosh, let's begin. As you may have guessed or not, I have no idea because I don't have a psychic fucking bone in my body. I don't particularly like people. I feel that. With the exception of a very elite few of which you are both included. So you're welcome. The honor is all yours.

Honestly, You're part of my little elite view as well, girls.

I love it. Same. And I tend to not be a talker, so this shouldn't be too long. If you need it, it feels to be edited for content, please feel free to do that. It's all pretty relevant. We will not. I'll start this story by saying, I have no fucking idea what the fuck I experienced.

Love those stories.

I know. Same. I don't know if what happened to me has happened to others or if there's a logical explanation for it. Any thoughts you have on the experience would be most welcome, and I'm sure hysterical. Anyway, here's my story. I was extremely pregnant and feeling like a beach walrus, minus the mustache, and laying in my bed. And my husband, who was not pregnant and felt perfectly fucking fine and is now my ex, but that's a whole other shit show, was sitting next to me, chicken scratching in a tablet, probably a list of things to do the next day or writing what he considered poetry or something equally as lame. You're an icon, and I love you. You are an icon. The bedside lamp was on and was the only light on in the house. Our bedroom was very small, basically room for the never fucking big enough bed and about a foot and a half of space around the bed to walk. And that was it. Don't fucking judge. We were just starting out. Hey, I feel you. I feel that. We all had that bedroom.

Yeah, absolutely.

So we're in the bed, and at the time, it felt like I was in that semi-sleep state where you're on the verge of sleep, but you're not actually asleep. Yeah, that. As I'm laying there, I saw at the foot of our bed a boy about 10 years old. He had a dark complexion and thick hair, possibly Middle Eastern. He was wearing a white button-up shirt and dark pants. He was in a very crowded outdoor marketplace like you would see in- Marrakech. Marrakech or someplace. Not that I've ever been there, but I do watch television.

I watch the TV, you know.

And he was looking about as if lost or searching for someone in the crowd. He looked in my direction a couple of times but never spoke, at least not to me or that I could hear. Thank God he didn't seem threatening because I doubt if I would have been able to get my pregnant fattery out of the bed or out of the door fast enough. But I digress. While I was looking at the boy for some fucking reason not questioning why or how he was there in my bedroom, because that's not at all creepy. You were pregnant.

You don't question a lot of things while you're pregnant.

You got a free pass at that point. But while that was happening, my husband nudged me with his elbow and fucking annoyed. I looked at him. He put an index finger to his lips as if to say, 'Shh, ' and then pointed at the boy at the foot of the bed. Oh my God. My first instinct was to crank him in the fucking mouth and be like, Did you just shush me? ' But then I thought, Wait, is he seeing that kid, too? Why isn't he grabbing him up and throwing his ass out the door? Be a fucking man and protect your pregnant wife.

' Throw that kid out the door.

But as one does in these situations, I didn't do or say any of that. I simply looked back to the foot of the bed and continued watching this strange boy like it was a perfectly fucking normal occurrence that we do every fucking day of the week. Next thing I knew, I was waking up the next morning. But wait, there's more. When I got up the next day, my husband already left for work, so I didn't get the chance to mention the odd occurrence to him. I shrugged it off as just a weird ass dream, went through my daily routine, went to work. I was working the afternoon shift. I won't regale you the details of my daily routine because that would truly be a but not so weird that moment. For some reason during our lunch break, my coworkers, people, and I got into conversations about dreams. I shared the dream, quote unquote, that I had about the boy and how very real it felt to me in my dream and how my husband saw him, too. They half jokingly said I should ask him about it when I got home from work. The rest of the workday was extremely hectic because my life is a shit show and work is part of it, and I forgot all about the boy and my dream.

I went home and started preparing dinner. Insert hysterical laughing because me, cooking. Anyway, the hubs came home and he went straight to the shower as instructed, and then sat down to watch TV until dinner was ready. We didn't really have any conversation to speak of, and as I said, I'd forgotten all about the boy and my dream. Out of the blue, my husband said to me, You know this house is haunted, don't you? Side note, I can neither prove nor debunk the existence of insert entire mega list of paranormal beings here, so I'm on the fence. I just want to put that out there. Please read on. After a moment of surprise, I asked him, What do you mean? Why do you say that? If you just read that in some What high pitch frantic voice, good job. You nailed it. I'm going to do it again. What do you mean? Why did you say that? Why? He said to me, Didn't you see that fucking kid at the foot of our bed last night?

I love that you got this is so casual. I love it. I love that it's just like so much time has passed and then you're just like, he's like, by the way, you saw a kid at the end of our bed last night.

I meant to mention that earlier. And when I asked, ie, interrogated, he proceeds to describe in great detail the boy I saw and what I thought was simply a dream. He described the boy, what he was wearing, the marketplace, It's everything.

That's the other thing. I'm like, you had an entire portal open up in your house.

That's the thing because I believe that I've seen spirits before in figures, but never the place that they're in in a setting. Yeah, picturing that is really cool.

That's something altogether different, I feel.

Yeah. And I also just can't believe that you were like, Well, nighty-night. Yeah.

This is a marketplace in my room, I guess.

Yeah. It does pop off. Then they wrote, What the actual fuck? Exactly. Now, I don't know if what I experienced was a shared dream, a spirit of some type, a portal that we had the opportunity to look through to another place. Just a dream, a temporary loss of the last shred of my fucking sanity, or if there's some other explanation. But I cannot explain how my husband was able to describe exactly what I saw if he didn't see it also. Can somebody please explain this to me? Even after I divorce this ass hat, we've had at least two other shared dreams. Wow. Where it's the same dream just from our respective perceptives. Say that three fast. Ash, I hope you're reading this one because I love when you trip over your own tongue. It is very endearing and makes me feel not so alone. You're welcome, friend. You just knew. These experiences don't scare me, but I often wonder what they are and why they occur. Thank you for reading my lame ass story. It's not lame at all. No. After hearing the other listener's story, mine is really not on that level. It is.

You saw a whole ass portal. In your room. And your husband saw it, too. And then you also had two other shared dreams from your respective perspectives. I've never had a shared dream.

I was trying to say it three times. Respective perspective.

Respective perspective. Respective perspective. Respective perspective. Fuck, I was so close. You were close.

But I've never had a shared dream. I don't think.

I don't think I have either. I've had dreams that were premonitions.

Yeah, but I've never had a shared dream.

But never a shared dream.

No?

That I know of, anyways. Do you ever still think about the girl that wrote In the tale? Yes.

And yeah, The entire village.

The dream world. She would always go back there.

No, I'm literally obsessed with that. I think about it like once a month.

Same. At least. Anyways. Okay, sorry. Let's finish this. If I am a fan girl lucky enough to get my story in a ListenerTale episode, please feel free to use my name while I bottle my tears of joy as a creepy memento. Don't worry. I don't plan to send them to you or anyone. I'm weird, but not send people I don't know my bottled tears weird. Don't keep it that weird. Love you both and love the podcast. Love you. Ps, I know Elaina an accomplished author. Congrats. So please don't judge the horrendous grandma. Never. Not my fucking forte. I also said grandma.

Yeah, grammar. I would never judge your horrendous grandma.

But then it says, Keep it weird, bitches. And I don't know if you said we could use your name or not.

Yeah, she said, please feel free to use my full name.

It's Sheila Feather. Sheila. Sheila Feather is a cool name.

You are Sheila Feather. Love. You're the best.

You guys rule. I love your attitude. I could feel it. You're in a A little bit of spice, and I love that.

I love a spicy.

And I also love that you guys don't get mad when I stumble over my words. Thank you. I love that.

Thank you. Thanks for mentioning the whole author bit, and I didn't pay you to do that. So thanks. Like, your check is in the mail. I appreciate it. Because the sequel to The Butcher and the Ren, called The Butcher Game, is coming out on September 17th. And you can pre-order your copy at thebutchergame. Com. So go claim your free poster because there's only going to be a certain amount of free posters while the supplies last. So go get it.

Is it ever going to be a tinyurl. Com ever again?

I feel like we need to make it a tiny URL. Can you talk to your people? I'll talk to my people. Okay, thank you.

Because I want to say tinyurl. Com/theputchergame.

Yeah, I also want that. I like that. But go get your copy of it because that's going to be the theme from here on out.

Somebody go get her. She's reading like a thriller.

This one's longer, too. That's The Input. So get on it.

It's really good. I've read some of the chapters.

So my next one is Aliens. Just Aliens.

Love that. That's the title. Fantastic.

It says, Hi, ladies. I have a listener tale in the attached. Please let me know if the doc doesn't come through, you know what?

It came through.

Listener also wants to be called Betty.

Betty?

Betty?

I think I know why. Hey, Betty.

I think I also know why. Hello, ladies of maybes.

I like it.

Writing this in is way outside my comfort zone. I'm not a shareer when it comes to regular type life events, let alone the bonkers bizarre and creepy. Particularly not this experience, as you'll see, it's pretty unbelievable. But it happened. And your listener tales provide a fun place for people to talk about experiences that we can't always talk about elsewhere. It's practically a community service. I like the way you look at that. I love that that's how you look at it because that's how I always looked at it. You can tell us any of your weird, crazy experiences. We support you. No judgment here.

Never.

I listen to your podcast all the time, and the Listener tales are probably my favorite.

I love that. Wow. We don't get that a lot. We don't.

However, while I've decided to finally put down in writing what happened, I'd prefer not to share my name, so please call me Betty.

You got it, Betty.

I almost said Belly.

Belly. She said, Please call me Betty. Not Belly.

And I said, Okay, Belly. I'm from Canberra, which is the actual capital of Australia.

Oh, shit. I did not know that.

And she said, Please tell the world.

Here we are.

I live a couple of hours drive from the... Thank you so much for the phonetic. Eurobaudela Shire. Oh, boy. Eurobaudela Shire. Yeah. Eurobo Dela Shire. There it is. The southeast Coast of Australia. This area is gorgeous and remains one of my favorite places in the world. It's so peaceful and beautiful and calms my soul no matter what's happening in my life. I love that. So you can imagine how best pleased I was when one night it was overtaken by aliens.

Damn.

My family have regularly gone up to this area for weekends and holidays, as why wouldn't you? Every Christmas, my family would rent a house somewhere along the Coast and we'd stay there for a couple of weeks. My friend, let's call her Dee, would come and stay with us for the second week of our stay and had done for years. The last time this happened, Dee and I were 16 and had well and truly started our teenage nonsense. One night, the house was full of two families and younger children, so we did what any teenagers do and swipe a couple of beers and a flashlight from my parents and headed down to the beach. Just a short walk away. Being a regional area, as far as we could tell, we were the only people on the beach, slowly sipping on our beers, which weren't going down so well as they were warm and nasty. But when you're 16, you're like, It's fine. I love this. So there we were sitting on the sand near the waves under the sunlight chatting away. Dee was in the middle of explaining an ongoing drama with her friends at high school.

While she chatted away, I was watching a light way out in the distance on the water. It was an orange light and looked like it belonged to a passing ship. Nothing unusual. I kept watching the light on the horizon as my friend rabided away. After 15 to 20 minutes, however, this light had gotten bigger. It was closer, perhaps. I realized it was not sitting on the water, but significantly higher up. Hard to tell when something is so far away, but guessing at least 100 meters off the water, so it was no longer looking like a ship or a boat. After staring at this for a while, I interrupted Dee's and then Adrian said, story with, Do you see that? Indicating the light in the distance. Yeah, she says and forgets about Adrian and becomes equally as focused on figuring out this strange orb. We both staring at it for several minutes, waiting for it to explain itself. It was certainly bigger than anything that belonged to a plane or ship, and it just moved weird. Still confused and not thinking about it, I decided to pick up the flashlight and flashed at this mysterious light.

Well, fuck. The moment I turned on the flashlight and pointed it at this thing, immediately responded. What? To our flashlight and to us.

I would have shed my pants.

It moved from far out in the horizon to about 100 meters away from our heads in the snap of your fingers. There was no sound, no clear acceleration or deceleration, it just moved several kilometers to a dead stop right near us in next to no time. All of a sudden, there was this large bubble of light meters away. Dee and I got up and bolted. We turned towards the dunes away from the beach just ran. When we got to the top of the dunes, we both paused and dare to look backward. It was still there, just chilling. It was big and made of light, like the light you might see from a street lamp, but it had a clearly defined outline. No metal, opening, or features, just opaque light. It was just about the size of a double-decker bus. Its shape is hard to explain. It could have been changing shapes slightly, or it could have been slowly spinning and revealing different sides. I couldn't tell. At one point, it looked like an imperfect sphere, and at others, more like a rounded banana or sausage. Either way, it just hung in the air soundlessly, slowly moving across the water just where the waves were breaking, about 50 to 70 meters off the water.

Maybe it was exploring? Now that I think about it, we really should have done a better job hiding rather than standing on the highest point of the beach, gaping and frozen. What are you going to do? At this point, we had time to think, what the fuck was going on? Is it looking for us? Can it already see us? Did it think our torch light was one of its and excitedly sprint to greet us, only to have to explain, oh, shit, thought you were someone else?

It's like when you wave at somebody, but they're not waving at you.

It's just like, oh, no, this is weird. But we had no idea. But for the next maybe 30 minutes, we just clung to each other on the sand watching this thing float in the air. After a while, it slowly moved upwards into the sky, and we could still see its glow beaming from behind the clouds. But we got cold and tired and headed home. When we got home, we didn't tell my family as they would have not believed us and instead just went to bed. Years later, I told my best friend about this experience, but she's still highly skeptical and told me I only thought I saw something. What a bitch. She wasn't there. Yeah, that's not right. Fuck you, it says. I didn't say it. She did. Fuck you, says Betty. Luckily, she has many other qualities and is still my best friend of this day. But as you can imagine, this is not a story I share with people. Since this experience, I have kept a casual eye on other encounters that might be similar to mine, but there's not a lot. If anything, has made me more skeptical about other people's experiences and definitely YouTube videos.

As soon as I hear things about saucers and metal count contraptions, I'm like, No, that's not what aliens look like. Wrong. Though in truth, I can't say exactly what it was that I saw, But I saw it, and it was something extraordinary, though terrifying at the time. I'm only up to about episode 160 on your podcast, but catching up fast. I like how you describe the unknowns in your stories and theorize on possibilities. So ladies, please feel free to tell me your thoughts. Would love to know what your maybes and explanations could be. While you're baking your noodles, let me add this. A few days later, Dee's father and stepmom, unexplained, unexpectedly, paid us a visit. They had to give Dee the awful news that her mom OD'd a couple of days before, ending decades of struggles with heroin. That's awful. Dee was very close and protective of her mom and was devastated. Related? Probably not. But that was two big events that happened very close together. Thanks for reading, ladies. I know how much you love Australia, so hopefully I have provided you with Another tidbit to add to your basket of creepy Australian tales.

Keep it weird.

Love, Betty. Betty. I think you guys saw aliens. You saw an ufo. I think so. And I do feel like people's experiences with sightings can be different because I don't think all aliens come from one planet.

No, I think we're seeing all kinds of different ones.

Yeah, they all have different places where they live.

But I don't know what other explanation there is for that.

No, you saw aliens. You saw aliens. I mean, the government said they're real.

Betty, you saw aliens.

You just deal with it. You just did. You just saw them.

Deal with it, Betty.

Yeah. I don't know how I feel. I'm very in the middle of if I'd like to see aliens or not.

I want to. Really?

Yes. For a hard 100% need to see it. Hard yes for me. Yeah.

Wow. I want to see it.

I feel like we've had experience- Can buy kids four or five. You don't want to see them? I'm not sure. I don't want to, and I do want to. I want to see them, but not get abducted, please.

Yeah, I don't want to get abducted. You're like, Let me be on that.

Yeah.

Let me be clear. I'm a homebody. I don't like going anywhere. So you won't catch me out. So you're not going to catch me in an alien ship. I also don't like flying. So that's many issues for me there. I don't want to get proved. I'm also a Capricorn, so don't touch me. I'm like, yeah, no. None of this is going to work. I want to see them, though.

From the distance.

And just give a little wave and be like, sorry.

I feel like we've seen your photos together. We've like driving. I feel like we've seen things and been I've seen some weird things that I can't. Yeah.

And John's seen something. At least one thing that he's positive is like an ufo.

That's a crazy story. You should actually... I feel like he's not going to come on, but- I should have him tell the story. Have him write it down, at least, so we can read it.

I'll have him pop on and maybe tell the story if I can force him to.

I would love that. We'll have to bribe him heavily. We absolutely will, but it's okay. I'll think. Yeah.

We'll figure it out. But yeah, I think Betty saw a motherfucking alien.

I think so.

So you can be comforted in that fact, Betty.

Yeah, and I'm sorry about your friend's mom. I know. That's really terrible. That is really sad. To have all of that to process in a very short span of time is horrible.

That's a lot to process for a 4D.

Yeah.

But you're right. We love Australia. We love our Australians.

Yeah, we do. Let's finish it off with one more. Let's do it. We have Listener tales, the disappearing lady in the ditch and a possible spirit stalker. Also, Yee, you're welcome, Ash. Thank you. Hello, you beautiful baked potatoes. That is how I identify.

Thank you. I was just going to say I will not answer to anything else.

I am a beautiful baked potato. A beautiful baked potato. In a bugs eye, I am a beautiful butterfly. I am a beautiful baked potato. With sour cream. I love it. I used to despise podcasts until one day I on yours. That's wild. Thank you. And it's basically the only one I consistently listen to. I tried listening to other ones, but it just felt wrong. The other true crime ones are too monotone or depressing. Plus, it made me feel like I was cheating on you guys in a way. If I listened to a true crime podcast that wasn't you, which I know you encourage us to listen to other people, but I don't care. I only want you, LL. They're like, I won't. Don't make me. There's so many other good ones, though. They're like, give them a car. I promise. But thank you. That's so kind. Anyway, you girls keep me company on car rides to school every single night while studying for my exams. Med school, baby. Hell, yeah. Working hard now so that everyone I love doesn't have to later, L-O-L. What a badass. That's queen behavior or king behavior. Basically, anytime I'm doing anything, ie, cleaning up my car, cleaning the house, walking, breathing, etc.

It's safe to assume that if I'm awake, I have headphones in and Morbid is playing. That's so nice. I love that. You guys feel like the big sisters I always wanted. So thank you. We are. Below, I have attached a double space potipha for your reading pleasure. Even though I literally write creatively for fun, I not a good storyteller, so I apologize if we end up bouncing back and forth a bit. I'd like to one day write in about my truly horrifying experiences, such as the time my possibly possessed neighbor threatened to kill us, broke into our house, and tried to kidnap my two-year-old at the time brother. But every time I sit down to write it, I have to stop before it's night time. Otherwise, I will get nightmares and I can't sleep. So for now, we're sticking with this less spooky tale.

Oh, I want that one, too.

I want both. Hope you enjoy, and my babble is not too chaotic to understand. Mama, I'm Gemini. Nothing is too chaotic to understand. This happened recently, around two or three weeks ago, mid end of August. Though it's not my spookiest experience, it is my most recent. Let me start by providing some background. I attend college near my house and commute every morning to my classes. On this particular morning, I remember being in a rush. I had slept past my alarm, which in turn had thrown off the rest of my usual morning routine. I took a five-minute shower, which I had not thought to be possible for me previous to that morning. Threw a lunch together and ran out the door. I arrive every morning around 6:00 to study for a few hours before my morning class, so it's usually still dark out when I leave in the mornings around 5:15. You could literally never catch me doing that morning routine. That is early. I give you a high five. To get to the campus, I take a lot of back roads surrounded by cornfields and farmers to get there because there's less traffic, and I prefer to avoid the congestion when possible.

I drove past a red barn as I do every morning, and today there was a woman clearly upset with her Oh, shit. With her car halfway in a ditch across the street from the barn. Oh, damn. She was standing by the back of the car holding her phone to the air as if she couldn't get signal. I found this weird, even though we were in an area surrounded by cornfields. I always have pretty decent reception. I blast morbid on the Bluetooth speaker on my way to school, L-O-L. But we probably just use different phone companies. As a young female, I've always been told to be careful in situations like this, as it's sometimes a tactic used to hurt or kidnap people. We've all heard those stories where a lady or a child tends to be hurt, and a guy comes out of nowhere and hits you over the head with something and you pass out or you die. Or maybe that's just me since I watch forensic files with my mom all the time. But something felt really off. I passed her fairly quickly. Speed limit in the area is 45 miles an hour. As I drove by her, we made eye contact for a brief moment, and I swear time slowed and chills immediately ran down my spine.

My gut started twisting into knots and I felt an indescribable heaviness. I felt like if I didn't stop, I would deeply regret it something bad would happen. I got the terrible feeling that this woman was in danger. I quickly estimated in my brain that the probability of getting kidnapped, raped, or murdered if I were to turn around and asked if she needed help. She was the only other one out there, and I'm absolutely certain that there weren't any other people or cars. But just to be on the safe side, I decided I'd stay in my car, pull up to her with my window, roll down a slight crack, and ask if she needed help. I turned around in the big driveway of the red barn across the street. As I got closer to the ditch, I realized she and the car have completely vanished. That's what I would shit myself again. It was bizarre as it couldn't have taken more than two minutes for me to turn around and get back to that ditch. An eerie feeling came over me, but I decided I was probably just paranoid and should forget about it. So I unpaused morbid and continued on my route to school.

Everything that day went fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. The next morning, however, things got weirder. Once I drove by the barn again, there was another car in the ditch. It It wasn't the same kind as the woman had, and nobody was outside the vehicle. The lady's car was a dark color. This car was white. It looked too clean to belong on these roads, honestly. I don't know much about cars, but it looked nice to me. All the windows were completely tinted, so dark you couldn't even see by the driver's side window, which is illegal where I live. I also noticed there was a there was black writing on the side of the car, but I couldn't read what it said because of how far away my car was and the speed I was going. Totally wasn't speeding, Winky Face, Winky Face. Never. Never. Never. Don't speed. Be careful. This time I drove straight by it and didn't even consider stopping. My gut was screaming, No, run, to me. I'm not quite sure why. I just got a terribly gut-wrenching wave of anxiety. So I kept going because kindness is for dead people, and I have an exam that morning and I wanted to study anyways.

Everybody in these stories is having gut intuitions.

Yeah, that's the theme. Skipping to the end of that school day, my friend Peter always gets there to study with me and walks me to my car because we parked next to each other. After class, we had walked to our cars and we're just chatting, putting our books away, etc. When a white car with tinted windows and black lettering on the side pulls in and parks in the spot directly next to mine. My friend found this odd since there were tons of open parking spaces surrounding us. We parked way out in the back lots to avoid all the congestion getting out. Yet this car chose to park right next to me. I was internally freaking out a little bit now as this was the same car that I'd seen in the ditch earlier. I asked Peter if we could go back inside the building, and he saw the look on my face and knew something was off. He walked me back inside the building and I told him what happened. We looked at the window and saw the car pull out of the spot, roll down the driver's side window slightly as if it rolled painfully slow by my car and then out of the lot.

What?

That's fucking weird. Oh, I hate that. Peter walked me to a campus police car and explained the situation to the cop. We ended up leaving and the officer told us that the next... Sorry. The officer told us the next morning that though he saw the encounter on the security footage, he really couldn't do anything, which I knew and I didn't expect him to. I just guess I wanted somebody to know, I guess. It made me feel safer at the time, but looking back, maybe it was a waste of time.

No, I wouldn't have known what to do either.

Yeah, I feel like I would have done the same thing.

I think you did the right thing.

After that, I didn't see either cars, but weird things have been happening. The next morning, I was loading my own car for school, lunch, endless piles of books, scrubs, etc. I typically have to make three or four trips back and forth, sorry, back and forth from my car in the mornings because I always forget things and I'm obsessed with being dreadfully overprepared. Anyways, as I made my way to the car for the first time that morning, I noticed that the driver's side door was ajar. This was weird since I park in the garage, and my father leaves even earlier than I do to get to work in the mornings. He parks right next to me, and with the way that our garage is set up, he would have hit my door with his car if it were left open when he pulled out. It threw me off, but I brushed it off and assumed maybe I just left it open the previous and somehow my dad got around it, or maybe he needed something for my car and grabbed it before he left, forgetting, leaving the door open. I shut the car door and went back inside to get my laptop bag.

When I came back out, the driver's side door was open again. I walked around the car cautiously, using the flashlight on my phone to shine under it and around it quickly, making sure that I was the only one in the garage. I was hit with the overwhelming feeling that I was not. I swear I felt like I was being watched. Slamming it shut and locking it this time, I went inside to grab my lunch. When I came back, the garage light was off. This is a fucking horror film.

Yeah, it literally is.

Feeling around in the dark, I found the switch and turned it on, only to find that the driver's side door was open again. At this point, I was quite scared, but also just pissed off. Oh, fuck off, I found myself groaning to nobody in particular.

I feel like you're annoying.

I feel that I'm too young to be this over it, but whatever. I'm an old spirit. I yield something along the lines of, 'Leave me alone, you You certainly are not welcome here, so get the fuck out, or I will get a shovel and a frying pan and beat you until you're dead twice. That's badass. Damn. Now, this is not where the weirdness ends. All the uneasiness and gut feelings I had before have ceased. I no longer feel like I'm being watched. But now the people around me are experiencing weird things.

You threw it onto everybody else.

It's like it follows. For example, a family friend was over and she fell, and broke her ankle. She was outside in the yard and she said she swore she felt a hand push her down onto the concrete. Oh, damn. Her ankle was red and swollen from the way she landed on it. But do you want to know the scariest part? Yeah. She showed me her side and there was a swollen red mark that looked like an inflamed handprint. I don't know what's been going on. Maybe I just have an overactive imagination or I'm thinking too much into it. But ever since seeing that woman in the ditch, things have been weird.

And that's it.

I don't like that. I'm worried for you. At all. I hate the fact the fact that as you locked eyes, you immediately felt weird. And then that's when all the weirdness started happening.

It really is like an It's follows vibe. It's like she passed something to you. I don't like it. And then you were like, I'm not into this. I don't accept this. I don't claim this. And then it went on to everybody else.

Very scary. That was a fun batch of listening tales, though. Yeah, these were spooky and fun. I love a spooky uki moment.

I think we needed some spooky uki moments because we have had some really, really rough cases lately. So we figured a good, spooky, fun, chilling listener tale episode was due.

It was. I loved it.

Thanks so much, guys. You rule.

Yeah. So we hope you keep listening.

And we hope you... Keep it weird.

But not so weird that you don't write in your spooky tales to us because holy crap, we love them. Write them in. Bye-bye. Follow Morbid on the WNDYRY app, Amazon Music, or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to episodes early and ad-free by joining WNDYRY Plus in the WNDYRY app or on Apple podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at wundery. Com/survey.