Morbid - Episode 437: Listener Tales 70

Episode Date: March 3, 2023

Listener Tales 70!!!! We've got a miraculous basset hound named Bonnie, randomly occurring blood splatter, a haunted theatre and SO much more! If you have a listener tale feel free to send it to [e-mail] with "Listener Tale" somewhere in the subject lineSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

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car, I feel like my girlies are there with me. New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash morbid or text morbid to 500-500. That's audible.com slash morbid or text morbid to 500-500 to try Audible free for 30 days. Audible.com slash morbid. Reboot your credit card with Apple card. The credit card created by Apple. It gives you unlimited daily cashback that you can now choose to grow in a high-yield savings account at 4.15% annual percentage yield. That's more than 10 times higher

than the national average savings rate. Apply for your Apple card now in the wallet app on iPhone and start growing your daily cash with savings today. Apple card subject to credit approval. Savings is available to Apple card owners, subject to eligibility requirements. Savings is available to Apple Card owners, subject to eligibility requirements. Savings accounts provided by Goldman Sachs Bank USA. Remember FDIC? National average savings rate is from FDIC website, Terms Apply. Hey, Weirdos, I'm Alina, and I'm Ash. And this is morbid. because you hear that we were not who we said we were. Because everyone always says we sound exactly alike. I don't think we do, but I think that's a nice compliment because I don't prefer my voice. I don't either.

I prefer yours. I prefer yours. Well, look at that. Holy shit. Should we freaky Friday and exchange lives? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah. Oh, wow. Well, as you can tell by the moods here on this episode today, it is a listener tale which is from you. Bye for you from you and all about you. We're not on drugs, I swear. You sounded like blue from blue.

I was magenta. I love that. Yeah, I was magenta. Get it? Like you were blue and I was magenta. I love that. I was magenta. Get it? Like you were blue and I was magenta. Hell yeah. You know, it's funny.

I've moved from blue to blue. Oh, you know, blue is my girl. Oh, blue is everybody's girl. Yeah, bandit. My guy, chili, my girl. I think they go pretty all right. Pretty all right. I'm like, I love that girl. I'm not going to slander, big alright. I thought I loved Bingo.

I'm not gonna slander Bingo. I'm gonna stow you. Tewi you. No, don't come for me. I love Bingo. Bingo. Bingo. Dude.

Guys, Bluey's the best. I watch it. The rain episode is my favorite. I watch it so soon. I sometimes want to watch it when I'm home by myself. And I don't have your kids with me, but then I feel really fucking weird about watching Bluey on myself. You know how many people watch Bluey without their kids?

Yeah, but they have kids. That's the whole, because that let's start a barricades. There's been a time where John and I were sitting at night after the kids went to sleep and John said, you want to watch an episode of Bluey? And I said, yeah. And then we did. That's pretty much the few. And then we were like, wow, off to bed we go.

Off to bed. Yeah, I don't know if I could convince Drew to do that. Drew recently told me that he doesn't like scripted shows. He only wants to watch reality television. What is a declaration? And I said, you know, that's why I'm airing you, right? Yeah. Like, I like a scripted show personally,

but I really love reality television. And I really got him to love reality television. Yeah, you did it apparently. You're a race scripted television program. You're a lead. Apparently. Well, he also really liked Drag Race, which is not scripted, so.

Yeah, it's reality. It's reality. Reality. I'm trying to get on that show Have I told you that drag race? Yeah, I want to be a guest judge. You should be a guest judge I'm just saying it out loud because I'd like to manifest it And I would like all of you to reach out to the production team and tell them that I should get to go You think I guess you want to come with me. Oh hell yeah, I would have to bring Drew too So say like true action Elena from more to talk to us. All three of them here.

Let me type out your email for you. Yeah. Just say it like this. To whom I like to serve. At least get ash on there. Ash needs to be on there. And Drew, because like, it's just necessary.

Yeah, I know. I'm wanting so bad. Like I will go if I am able to go, but like, if we got to make cuts, you can, I'll be cut for you. Imagine meeting, that's so nice, thank you. Imagine meeting Michelle Vesage in the fucking flesh. No, I can't imagine that.

I would ship a dick. I literally can't imagine. Rue would say, I could picture it. I think Rue would just law let me. That's exactly what Rue would do. Well anyways, it's not about me, it's about you, it's about listener tales. But are you guys also excited for the new podcast

on the Morbid Network? Ah! I was like the new podcast. I was like the new podcast. And then you said on the more red dot ours. Yeah, we are having a new podcast. Join our little fucking family. And it's called that was pretty scary. It has. It has. Freddie, Prince, Prince Prince. I can't even speak. Freddie Prince, Jr. and John Lee Brody, two of the coolest fucking humans

to exist in this world. Literally two of the nicest humans we've ever met. I'm telling you, they're so sweet, so hilarious. And this podcast is gonna be so much fun. Oh my God, they announced it last night and I was very excited about it. Yeah, we got to listen to the first episode already and you guys are going to shit your dicks

when you hear it. It's, you know, and I saw Sarah Michelle Geller post about it and I said, whoa, teenage Elena, you could not conceive of a world where this is the reality of the situation. No way. And right after this, I was just chitchatting with Doug Bradley and his wife on Instagram.

I don't know what life is right now, but I am loving this simulation. You're a really good manifestor. I manifested the shit out of that. The aliens are getting you in a happy, happy state so that you're a little easier to take away. Honestly, that's fine because I'm here. I'm happy. I'm living here and happy. Talking to people that I dig. I know. I'm so excited for that. That was pretty scary. Such a fucking cool, exciting new show. Yeah, it's a cool concept.

You guys are gonna love it. Yeah, so it's coming on March. So, be on the lookout. Be on the lookout. And I don't really know when this episode is coming out, to be honest with you. I have no idea. But next week, you should definitely come

to Obituary's live show with us. It's coming in San Riverville. A bunch of us from the morbid network are going hell yeah we are rather insist our spend spend some Madison Madison that's my love language that's just like yeah so yeah if you haven't got your tickets go get a go get if you have your tickets go them, they're selling fast. Just staring into my soul as she did that. And I was like, I don't know what to do here.

I don't know where this is going. Really uncomfortable. I just said, ah, inside. But you know what? I think we got all the business out of the way. Business? We're only six minutes in. We're doing good.

We're doing good. So let's go to the tails. that are sent to us by listeners. Features Crafth McGaw. Well, yeah, it does. I'm gonna need you to vamp for a little bit. Okay, for a second. Guys, you know what happened here. I'll tell you a little story. I saw a picture of Doug Bradley wearing a ghost shirt. That's how this happened today. And I said, whoa, and I posted it. And then the message, or it's Steph, his wife message. It was like, hey, oh, we love ghost. And we're friends with Tobias. And I said, oh my god, could the world get any sweeter right now?

And it couldn't. So there's that. Well, that was the perfect amount of time to tell that story. And for me to get this into a double space thing where I can read it, because I'm blind. All right, I don't know if I can say this person's name, so I'm just going to start out with their tale, which is entitled Listen or Tale. My mom beat up a serial rapist. Your mom's a badass. That got our attention. Yeah, I did. All right, so as high, I'm a big fan of true crime, and I love listening to your podcast, so thanks for all the wild stories. You're welcome. You're welcome. And thank you for listening to our podcast. On a Saturday morning in 2008, my mom, her partner,

I'm going to call him D because I'm not sure if he wants me to share his name. And I were sitting in the kitchen making coffee. I was seven at the time, and we were waiting for a friend of my mom's who was bringing her son over to have a play date with me. Since we were expecting them any minute, my mom had left the front door wide open

and just told them to come in when they arrived. As she was waiting for the coffee to be ready, we all heard a noise in the next room and my mom got up to see if it was our friends. A second later, we heard her scream. Dee got up to see what was wrong and I followed him. We walked into the living room and saw a man in a ski mask with one arm around my mom

and a gun to her head. And this is just a Saturday morning. This is a morning. They were just making noises. He told me and Dita lay down on the ground, face down, and then made my mom find something to cover us with. Oh my God. She pointed to a laundry basket with a sheet inside,

and right before covering both of us, he told me that if I made a sound, he would kill my mom. Oh my God, in your seven. Oh my God. Oh, then he told her he would shoot me and her partner if she didn't do what he said. After that, I couldn't see what was happening, but I could hear the conversation.

My mom reflexively started talking nonstop, asking him what he wanted. She said that we didn't have any cash in the house, but if he wanted money, he could take her ATM card and take out as much cash as he needed. She even suggested that he should look in my room since I had a couple piggy banks full of coins. Oh my God, this is destroying my soul.

I want this man to get the shit kicked out of him within an inch of his life. Yeah, I'm so angry right now. What the hell, this is insane. I remember my dumb seven year old self being a little annoyed that she was volunteering my precious piggy banks to this man without even asking me. But then the intruder got angry, hit my mom in the head with the gun and pulled her into

my bedroom, which was across a small hallway from the room that we were in. He pushed her against the wall, oh my god, and pulled off her pants. Oh my god. Oh, my mom said that although she was facing the wall, she sensed him momentarily put his gun down as he reached to unbully the old pants. This is when her badass mama instincts kicked in and she knew that it was her moment to get away and save us. My mom being a bad bitch and trained in Kroff McGonough and self defense kicked behind

her and smashed in his kneecap so he could hell yeah. So we fell down and could not get up. Hell by fallin' and I could not get up. Don't help him. I'm don't help. She then ran out of my bedroom and slammed the door behind her and held the door shut with both hands and her body, and her whole body weight while screaming to her partner

to take me and run for your life. Oh my God. He was gonna do this in a seven year old child's bedroom like in the morning. Like who the fuck is this piece of shit? Hopefully he gets caught. I hope he gets caught. Oh my God, Jesus Christ.

He picked me up and ran out the back door of the house screaming, call the police and didn't put me down until we reached the gate. My mom stayed in the house holding the bedroom door shut until she knew we'd made it out safely. I kept looking back at the back door and it was a really scary moment because I wasn't sure if I would see my mom again. Oh, cool ran before. She caught up, we all kept running, and halfway down the block we ran into our friend's house who were casually strolling toward our house for a Saturday morning play date and breakfast. Imagine their shock when they realized that we were running away from an armed intruder. They turned around and we all booked it to the nearby

grocery store where we were met by the police. They drove us back to our house in the back of a police car, but by the time we got there, the attacker was gone. No. There were cops in the house for the rest of the day dusting for fingerprints and gathering evidence. They asked the same questions over and over and over again to me, my mom and Dee, and they took me to a child psychologist

to be interviewed again. My mom was called in for a few lineups, but not able to identify him because he'd been wearing a ski mask. They never found him and it has remained unsolved. The fuck up. Are you kidding me?

I'm so angry. I'm so angry for your entire family. Like I'm raging. Just the invasion that that is alone and then like having to go to like that little, like little you having to go to sleep in your bedroom

where that monstrosity almost occurred and it's like this person is a fucking monster. Yeah He walked into a house on a Saturday morning and tried to rape a woman in her seven-year-old daughter's room After telling the seven-year-old I'll kill your mom if you make a sound. He's a fucking monster. Seriously. I'm so angry. I hope he is dead. A hundred percent. Oh my god. Oh my god. In prison, I hope. Oh my god. Since then, my mom and I have always referred to the attacker as the guy, whenever we talk about it. I wrote this story down a while back, planning on sending it in, but I ended up getting busy and forgetting to send it in. But I'm so God, I didn't now, because now I have a point of fact.

We discussed the attack happened in 2008 and it was a cold case until in 2016. Stop the guy was pulled over for a traffic violation. And when the police took his fingerprints, they found that they were already in the mother-fucking system. Police shit. I added the mother-fucking Fast forward to a few weeks ago. It's May of 2022 now. The guy confessed and was convicted of a series of rapes within the same month in 2008,

in the same neighborhood with a very similar MO. Peace of shit. Another crazy detail we found out is that this man is currently 30 years old. Holy shit. Which means he was only 16 at the time of the attacks. Oh my god. It blows my mind to think of a literal child committing all of these horrible crimes. He sentenced to 24 years in prison now after getting away with it for almost a decade. He should be in there for longer. Yeah, you should. So that's my story about my family's run in with a teenage rapist,

and most of all, my mom being a powerful, amazing bad bitch that is not to be fucked with. Yes, thanks for reading. Oh my goddess. I- Wow. Your mom is my goddess. I was gonna say it. That is my goddess.

Oh my god, the fact that it, like the plot twist, that I was so excited for that. Had me. Woo! Yeah, I feel really adrenaline. I am so happy. I'm just so happy. I am too.

I'm so happy. I'm so sorry that your family had that experience in your fucking home. In the trauma, all of you must have, like the aftermath of that must have been so hard for you all. Well, you probably still do it. I am so sorry, your poor, poor you, like Jesus, like, oh my God. And then your parents, like your mom.

Yeah. Like I would be, I swear, I'd be like standing guard every night. Well, because it's so scared. Well, and that's like, I mean, that's a horrible position to be in because duh, but also, like, you're worried about your own safety. You're worried about your partner duh, but also like you're worried about your own safety. You're worried about your partner's safety, and then you're worried about your fucking child out there. That's the thing, and it's like,

when there's a kid involved in that, and like that, obviously that piece of fucking shit had no problem putting a seven year old face down on the ground while attacking her mother and telling her, I'll kill your mom if you make a sound. And that was a six to two year old. What was that kid's life? I don't even want to begin to play.

I'm so glad that you're all okay. Well, let's move on from that. I'm so glad that you're all okay. And I'm so fucking glad that you guys got justice out of that. I mean, it's so good. And your mom is one of my heroes. Shout out to your mom. I don't even know her name, but shout out to your amazing mom.

Ah, I love you, mom. Mom, I love you, I love you. [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ Hey there, fellow podcast listener. It's Elena. And Ash, and we're taking you back to the days before streaming services. Whoa! You know when you would come home from high school and it was only a few hours until that TV show,

everyone was watching was about to come on. Well, in 1999, that show was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. In our podcast with Wondery, the re-watcher Buffy the Vampire Slayer, we take it back to 1999. So get out your knee-high boots and paste that poster of Angel on the wall. It's time to enter the Buffyverse. Some of you avid morbid listeners already know what we've gotten store. Hey, wear your nose.

Join us as we sway our way through Buffy's drama, action, and romance. Episode by episodes. Lacey, follow the rewatcher, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen early and add free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da What makes a person a murderer? Are they born to kill or are they made to kill? I'm Candice DeLong and on my podcast Killer Psychie Daily, which you can find exclusively on Amazon Music. I share a quick 10-minute rundown every weekday on the motivations and behaviors of the criminal masterminds you read about in the news. I have decades of experience as a psychiatric nurse, FBI agent, and a criminal profiler. On Killer Psychie Daily, I'll give you my expert perspective

on cases like the mysterious New York City drugings, breaking down Lori Valow, a.k.a. Mommy Doom stays motives and what drove Caitlin Armstrong to murder? I'll also bring on expert guests who add even more insight into these criminal minds. I promise you won't regret adding these 10 minutes to your morning routine.

Hey, Prime members, listen to the Amazon Music exclusive podcast Killer Psychie Daily in the Amazon Music app. Download the app today. All right, so this one is called, that time a scary ghost saved my life. Oh, that's fun, which I like. It's a Casper, but scary. Hello, hello, I'm Zach. Feel free to use my name, I was like, I was a relatively new listener. My best friend kept suggesting I give you guys a listen and I finally caved and started

from one in early 2022. As of today, I wrapped up the DomurtriloGee and I'm excited for the many episodes left for me to get through before I catch up. You guys make the ridiculous traffic in my LA commute variable and for that, I can't thank you enough. Oh, and just a quick note on our DomurtriloGee.

It is no longer up at all, not for subscribers of Wundery Plus or anybody. I don't know why you should up that way. It shows up as like subscriber only. It's not available for anyone. We took it down because we've evolved a lot. And we thought with the Evan Peters-Domer thing, that was going on and everybody was very focused on that. And I'm sure people were looking for podcasts

to listen to about the case. And when we listened to it, we just felt like, we could do better. Yeah, we just didn't, there were things like we wouldn't have joked about now. Like, I don't know, it just didn't feel like us. Yeah, no, it didn't. So we took it down just as a way of being like,

you know what, go elsewhere for your Dahmer. Yeah, there's better podcasts who covered it way better than we did to get the views. Exactly. We might revisit it at some point and like, you know, do it the way we feel like we should do it. But that's the reason I think some people were confused about it. Yeah, but it's not available anywhere. No, like we just took it down.

This listener tell us from May of last year. Yeah, that's last year, but we just wanted to clear that up in case you were like, where the fuck did that go? Exactly. Yeah, so maybe last year. But we just wanted to clear that up in case you were like, where the fuck did that go? Exactly. Yeah. So maybe we'll cover it again. It's just, it's good to evolve. And if you see, you know,

yeah, if you feel like you can do something better, you should do it better. Hell yeah, brothers. And I hope other podcasts got views because of that. Me too, so. Or, or listens, I should say, you're old. I don't know. Either way.

But thanks for listening. You guys make the ridiculous traffic in my LA. Can you bearable? I'm pretty bad. I can't thank you enough way, but thanks for listening. You guys make the ridiculous traffic in my LA. Can you bearable? For that, I can't thank you enough. I thank you for existing. You know, LA traffic, how the city slow. You know? I know Boston traffic, that's for sure.

Is it like the worst in the world? LA traffic or Boston? No, Boston. Is it the worst in the world? Yeah, I think we got like that honor this year. Oh, damn, I always thought like the worst in the world. Or the worst in the world. It's the worst in like the nation, I'm pretty sure.

I mean, that checks when I used to have to drive in a Boston every day, it would take me like two and a half hours. Yeah, it's no good. So anyway, my story begins when an Uber driver totals his car on the freeway, thanks to a couch sitting in the middle of the freeway and not enough room for him to swerve around it. It's me. I'm that Uber driver.

Oh, no, on the freeway. Anyways, here I am suddenly unemployed and without a car. My god. Fast forward a couple of weeks, and I find myself working at a haunted flooring warehouse driving, driving a forklift on the night shift. Wow. How time's it changed?

What a time. When I say this place was haunted, I mean, the guy that interviewed me told me on the tour of the warehouse that two people have come around a certain corner, seen a girl in a white dress floating outside of the window on the second floor and immediately quit. That sounds beautiful, though. Yeah, so you know, that solves the mystery of why there was a job opening.

Now, I absolutely believe in ghosts. I'm convinced my grandfather haunts the kitchen where he died in his house, but like in a friendly way. I also saw a ghost once at a hotel in London when I was 16, but it was literally just a quick flash, like when Shelley Deval goes up the stairs at the end of the shining and sees the butler with the old school furry, but not a scarier weird. I love you. Anyway, obviously the terrified girl did not deter me from getting this job. I also learned that there was a second ghost over there,

and I learned their origin stories. The dude ghost was a former employee in his 50s died of a heart attack in the bathroom about 15 years ago. That's awful. The girl however, she was 16 and jumped in front of a train that went by on the tracks directly behind the warehouse around the same time give or take a couple years. Oh that's really sad. The old heads on my team all told me that they'd never seen the girl, but they had heard the guy whisper their names or see here random things falling here and there. And I myself experienced one of those after working there a few months. I was in the back putting away a load of flooring when at the end of the aisle I was working in alone.

One single box of flooring fell off a pallet about 14 feet up. We think the guy was going back to work and somehow knocking over real shit with his ghost forklift. I love that. It's important to note that I've always tried to maintain a positive vibe with spirits if I suspect or know that they're there.

That's smart. Any time I do too. Any time I do too. Yeah, you know, just be kind and you'll get kindness back. Exactly. You get what you give. You sure do. Any time I would find myself in that section

of the warehouse, I'd call out some variation of, hey, ghosts, I'm chill. I just need to do something really quickly and I promise I'll leave you alone. I like that. That's adorable. And it seemed to work really well as they never showed themselves or really scared me.

Until one night I'm putting a load away that goes around that girl's corner. Oh. Like I do literally every time I say my usual spiel. This time though, I see her. She was on the ground instead of floating 10 feet above your head like usual, and in a white dress. I didn't feel whatever those guys that immediately quit felt,

and she didn't seem scary or gruesome at all. She looked right at me and said, get out. She didn't seem scary. My whole body just went, holy fucking shit you guys. I fucking dipped. right at me and said, get out. She didn't seem scary. My whole body just went, eh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Holy fucking shit you guys, I fucking dipped. Yeah, I don't worry, you. I turned to my happy little ass right around

and made a B-line zooming full speed at seven miles per hour on my fork lift. When maybe two seconds after I saw Goddamn Ghost and earthquake hits. No, like my night wasn't scary enough already. Oh, she was telling you to get out. Yeah, absolutely. I got another whoop.

Yeah, whoop. It's happening. So I'm buzzing along as fast as my electric motor could carry me joining the forming convoy of my co-workers that were closer to the door than I was. As we all gather safely in the center of the yard, all accounted for, we chilled in the lot, waiting for an aftershock that never came, smoking cigarettes and

bullshitting for 30 minutes before the safety team went in to check for damage and to make sure we could return to work safely. Guys, only one thing fell. I know it. The last stack of pallets I had put away had fallen right where I would have been. Oh my god. The pallet on the top of the stack was broken and the shaking knocked it just right

that it fell off and took the stuff below with it. I would have been crushed by literal tons of hardwood flooring. Had she not scared? The absolute shit out of me. So thanks girl, I hope you got to cross over. I never saw. It's like, thanks man. I think you weren't here, it's done. I never saw or heard's like, thanks man. I think your work here is done.

I never saw her from either of them again. And I left that job a few months later to go to a different haunted warehouse. Did not do that on purpose, LOL. But a little boy ghost that would run around the vegetable room. Oh! Thanks for reading this far. And if you're reading it on the podcast, shout out to Shy for getting me to listen. Shout out to Shy!

Love y'all and keep up the good work, Zach. Love you. Zach, I love that story. Oh my goodness. That was a good one. That was crazy. As soon as you said she said, get out. I was like, wait a second.

I think she's like helping. Yeah, like she wasn't like, get the fuck out. I hate you. She was like, I want to save you. She's like, get out. I love, thanks girl. Thanks girl. You got to cross over. Zach, that was amazing and I'm glad save you. She's a get out. I love him. Thanks, girl. Thanks, girl.

You got to cross over. You crossed over. That was amazing and I'm glad you're alive. Me too. I'm also kind of glad that you work on another content. We're home. It's like your thing, TM. It feels right for you, Zach.

Boop. Boop, Zach. Boop, ja. All right, my next one is called Listener Tale. Girl in the pit. Girl in the pit. So fitting for me. Yeah.

It's not. All right, it says, good day to you, Widow. Good day. I was introduced to your podcast not too long ago by a new coworker when we were comparing things we listened to. I love your mix of history, true crime, and spooky, as those are the things I listen, those are the three things I listen to the most. Oh, I love that you love all those things. I do too. Because we love them. History, true crime, and spooky. The best. Yay. And bravo. I have been enjoying all the listener tails and really wanted to share with y'all the scariest encounter I have ever had. Oh yeah. Please feel free to cut this down. No. No. Because it's a lengthy ass rambling of a doozy. I love those. Woop. I will say I have told

this story before on some platforms and details are different than before. See each time I tell it, I open up a bit more about it. The first few times was just, I saw a ghost girl, how spooky. I think this will be the first time I leave nothing out of it. Yes! I'm going all in. Oh, I am honored as fuck right now. Oh, honored. Color me, honored. Color me.

Happy. Happy. And... Hope you're happy. I hope you're happy, right, Joe? Because of toe-mum. If you don't know that video, then you don't know that video. I think it was actually like before, just thought.

Was it probably. I hope you're happy. I hope you're happy. All right, first on background, I was practically raised in the theater. Oh, hell yeah. Growing up, my parents worked at the local community theater, and I got to work on a lot of shows in different areas. That's cool. I did have a lot of experiences while there, but I didn't the local community theater, and I got to work on a lot of shows in different areas. That's cool.

I did have a lot of experiences while there, but I didn't realize a lot of it until I was older and understood that that stuff, it wasn't normal. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, my scariest experience wasn't there. Those are tales for another day. Ooh, that day is today. Please send them.

Being the theater kid I was, I decided to get my degree in theater education and become a theater teacher. The theater. Theater. During the music college, still more spooky things happened. But again, not the scariest.

So another day on those. Another day. Another day. That just reminds me of the Madonna song when she's like, I think I'm done. Another day. Oh, they, you know. Is that what I'm talking about?

Yeah. It's like I'm in just in Timberleake. My voice, like the phrase, my lack of confidence with that, because it was like yeah. Yeah. Yeah. You sounded like a cartoon for a second. Did you ever watch the proud family? I did.

You sounded like a little Bobby. A little Bobby. Yeah. That was me. Okay. That was a great comparison. I don't really know what it was. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. Yeah, that was me. Okay. That was a great comparison. I don't really know what deep cut it was.

Oh, gosh. During the years in college, still more spooky things happened. But again, not the scariest. So another day on those, I think I read that twice. It was another day. Oh, yeah. Another day. But during that time, it was,

Christ, I'm sorry. But during that time, it was cemented that a theater is not a true theater, unless it's haunted. Oh, I agree with that. Good or bad, doesn't matter. Just need to go. Just need to go.

I also agree. Now to the scary story. During my last cemented semester, like cement wall storm. But while completing my student teaching, I was at a high school. Fuck! What is happening to me? I was at a high school. I was at a high school. Paired with a fantastic cooperating teacher, I'll call Bell, not a real name. Seriously, this woman is still my hero when it comes to education. About halfway

through the semester, I was getting bogged down and grading, as well as my own final project for student teaching, which ended up being over 50 pages of analysis and about 50 pages of supplementary stuff. The band room was right next to our classroom, and I remember struggling to focus during a planning period, so Bell told me I could go into the theater as it would be empty until our next class. I take my veritable mountain of paperwork and lug it into the theater and decided to sit on the pit shell. To pause the spookies for a moment, I need to try and lay out how particular this

theater, how this pit, fuck. I need to try and lay out how this particular theater is, well, laid out. And what the heck I mean by pit shell. Thank you for that because I was lost. I have attached a janky drawing to try to help you visualize what I'm talking about. So the theater stage is raised off the ground floor by about five feet. The pit, where the orchestra plays, is centered in front with two open doorways that are usually curtained off during the performances, with stairs leading about two to three feet from the ground floor. The top of the pit is usually uncovered during musicals, but when there's not a musical, it is covered by a wooden board that we called the shell hence pit shell. Pit shell. Pit shell. Other theater folk might have different names for it,

but that's what we called it at that particular theater. So that's her way of saying don't at me, growing. Now back to the smoothies, I plopped on my workload and start trying to get through it. Now I was facing out to the theater, so my back is to the back of the stage. I hear some heavy footsteps behind me. Now thinking it was the man who helps us build the sets, I turned around to greet him, only to find no one there. Now, I try to be rational about things,

even with all my experiences as nine times out of 10, it's something not spooky. It's the one time you have to watch out for. So I try to convince myself it was maybe the base of the from the ban room, but also knowing that that noise was very much a work boot walking across a stage. I go back to work.

Not even five minutes later, I hear the chains in the catwalk swinging. No one could have got up there. It's locked. But again, my brain is trying to say it's just the HVAC turning on. No spookies here. Yeah. I go back to work and get through a half a page of homework responses when the light in the pit turns on. This is a manual light. No motion sensor. No random switch backstage. The switch light in the pit turns on. This is a manual light. No motion sensor, no random switch backstage. The switch is in the pit. The switch is in the pit. I can see both entrances to the pit. No one went down there, but I can definitely see the light on down there through the cracks between the boards. Feeling less sure it's nothing

now. I hop off the stage to the ground floor level and I walk around to the entrance. Light definitely on trying to get back to work. Now the next 10 minutes or so are filled with footsteps behind me coming closer and closer and chain swings more loudly in the catwalks. James, this is literally Jacob Marley. Oh my God, yeah. All up in this pit.

I don't like that all of this. Yeah, all of this. You're gonna see this bitch. Jacob Marley all up in this bitch. That should be true. I'm feeling, I'm feeling tent the tension, but I really need to make a dent in this paperwork. So obliviousness is what must happen.

Then the lights turn on again in the pit. I just say out loud, knock it off, and then the light goes off. Ooh. A beat or two passes, like goes on again. I said knock it off a few seconds longer than the last time before the lights go off again. I said knock it off a few seconds longer than the last time before the lights go off again. This time accompanied by a giggle. No, that's when I'm out.

Yeah, that is when I'm out. At this point, I'm both scared and pissed. Pissed because this could be some stupid teenage prank that I'm falling right into. Let's be honest as much as I love working with teenagers, they can be vicious, vicious creatures. Yeah. And scared because it could be something completely different and that primal part of my brain was screaming danger. I tried to calm myself by organizing my mountain of work into manageable piles. It keeps me distracted for maybe three minutes with the noises continuing to get louder and closer. Then the lights in the pit turn on off, on, off, on off rapid fire. What? The anger winds out and I jump back down to go to the entrance of the pit. Now, not my

proudest moment, but I do remember saying this as I reached for the light. Listen here, you little shit. Listen here, you little shit. Like goes on and there is standing a girl in her teens. it, like goes on and there is standing a girl in her teens long Auburn hair covering her face. Oh, I don't like that. Wearing what looked like a long white night gown. Oh, you need to go back to class now. Wow. Was your response?

Girl, her hair is covering her face. That's a ghost girl. That's a full-on ghoul. I tried to sound very authoritative, but hadn't yet found my teacher voice. I love that. This girl said nothing, that's a ghost. Girl, that's a full-on ghoul. I tried to sound very authoritative, but hadn't yet found my teacher voice. I love that. This girl said nothing, no movement at all. No, she's ghost.

Did you hear me? You need to get back to class. Stop playing with the lights. Again, no movement, no acknowledgement. I would be sharding. Even she's like, I'm dead. Like, you can't mess with me. You can't tell me to go back to class.

My God, I'm picturing this and I'm so freaked out. I hate this. I'm also just picturing you with your hair coming in. Just coming in with my hair covering my face on a night count. Yeah. Now I'm freaked out, but the anger is slowly killing the fear as I honestly believed this was just some kid

from the school playing a prank. I reached toward her and went to touch her shoulders, saying, starting to say, listen here, when her hands snapped up and grabbed my wrist high, then before I could say anymore, her head snapped up and, woo boy, oh, let me tell you, I wish, I wish I could forget her face. I'm so scared. Stark white skin in his alina, like a porcelain doll, lips slightly more pink, but still pale as hell. I so black, not like all black, like you can see in the movies,

but just like all people no colorize. Oh. She opened her mouth and let out this scream like I've never heard before or since. It's difficult to describe, but here's the best to describe, but here's the best I got. It was like every sound possible combined.

Oh. So high it made my ears hurt, but yet so low. I felt my chest rumble with it. Oh my god I am so stressed out right now my whole body is moving. I have every goose bump ever and all of my hair is really standing up. Goose bumps have goose bumps. Oh my god. I yanked my arm free and she thankfully let go because no lie, if she hadn't let me go, I wasn't going to get out of there. I had a bruise on my wrist for a couple days to even prove it. I grabbed all my piles from the shell,

thankfully within reach and hustled on out of there back to the classroom. Bell gave me a funny look and asked if I was okay and I think I tried to pass everything off as it was too quiet to work. But being a good teacher, she knew I was lying, and I just said I got spooked, just got into my own head. I was not about to tell this veteran teacher

that a ghost girl scared the shit out of me. Nope, that's a quick way to get any potential credentials revoked, but she already knew. Was it Don the monkey or the ghost girl? She asked calmly. What? We know those three separate things, are they Don the monkey or the ghost girl? She asked calmly. What? We know those three separate things. Are they Don, the monkey, or the ghost girl?

Is it Don the Monkey? I don't know. I gotta know. Don the monkey or the ghost girl. What? Did you hear footsteps, the chains or giggles? Oh, I think it's three. Damn.

She asked just as calmly. Hey, Jha, meet Floor. Yeah, same. All three and then some, I'm humbled. Each of the following question became more and more hesitant from her, like she knew what was coming but she didn't want it to come. Did you see her?

A nod for me. Did she touch you? A hesitant nod. Oh my God. Not so much a nod but like a singular body roll. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. She then went on to explain a few things to me.

The footsteps were those of Don, a nice older man type ghost, who usually just wanted, who was usually just around to help. And some of the students believed to protect others from the girl and the monkey. Oh! Now the monkey wasn't the adorable primate, the name Conchers. Oh no. But rather a thing in the catwalks that would crawl and swing around. Oh my god.

And cause mischief at best or throw things and do its best to get people to go away at worse. A few students claim to have seen it, but I had it for which I'm thankful. And the girl ghost. A lot of people heard her, few had seen her, fewer had touched her accidentally or otherwise, and about four total had heard her scream. What the fuck? She wasn't a bad omen per se, but it was just a rarity. Oh my God, but it was just such a rarity

that it did make the teacher nervous. She asked if I was okay and I just shrugged and I said, I guess this is a real fear of that. Oh, shit. I was never alone in the theater again, always had a student or another teacher or adult with me. According to kids, oh my god. According to the kid thing, kids,

things were a lot more active that semester. A lot more stories of sounds were more frequent. I tried not to acknowledge it with the students, but they knew I was hearing things too. I talked with a few of the students about the noises, but I never spoke about what I saw. It's not that I mind talking about my experiences. I think people should be able to,

without any stigma, but during that time I felt like I couldn't talk about it. Like if I did, it would make things so much worse. Give it more power maybe. Whoa. And you, I ended up graduating with a teaching for about 10 years. More spooky stories there for yet another day.

That day, girl. It's today. I ended up leaving due to the pandemic and burnout, which is a real thing in education. Oh, yeah. That's a real thing everywhere. But with education, I can't imagine. I was able to reconnect with a lot of people

from my past during the pandemic and found out more about the experiences from my younger years, which has brought a lot more questions for me personally wondering. If I'm just a ghost beacon, I say you are, but that's an introspection for another day. Another day. I still work with the local theater getting my theater fixed. I still experience odd things both in theaters and out in the world, but hey, what can you do?

Stay weird, but not so weird that a creepy ghost crawler's you into a pit and scream at you while you're a monkey, swings in the rafters and an old man just walks around. From K. Holy shit, K. Oh my god, that was one of the scariest ever. That is, wow. Especially because like, what did she want? I am shooketh. What do you want from me?

I am truly shooketh. That's what I would have said. Ooh, wow. I pictured that whole thing in my head, and it's like, me too. And now I'd like to get it out of my head. Ooh, yeah, okay. Okay, that was amazing and I'm really stressed out about it. So I'm gonna go to the next one.

It's called the curious case of Bonnie the Basset Hounds. Bonnie the Basset Hounds, which is delightful. Oh, dear Alina Nash, kudos for the great podcast. Thanks. My dog Bruce and I listened to it while we take walks in the woods. He couldn't give a fuck, but I love it. I love Sess with you. Kudos for a laugh within two seconds.

I love you so much already. He couldn't give a fuck, but I sure love it. So sorry to hear about Bailey. Oh, thank you. I'm a veterinarian and I was touched to hear all the staff at Bailey's clinic assisted you and your family with compassion. Oh, I love you. I love you for what you do.

Oh, hell yeah. I'm sure she's chasing rabbits and doggy heaven. She's yours. Because she has eyes now. You don't have to use my name, but you can mention Bruce. He's listening. He's listening. But he couldn't give a fuck. But he couldn't give a fuck.

So in 2010, I finally closed my companion animal veterinary clinic. Following 17 years of practice. So, holy shit. I transferred my caseload to a neighboring clinic run by a highly competent and compassionate colleague. She promised to take good care of my patients and was to become the veterinarian for my own pets because dad no longer ran a clinic. I have since dedicated my career to teaching, writing, and consulting, and listening to weird podcasts. I love every minute of every day. I'm, I love you. You're delightful. I'm so glad that you love every minute of every day. You should. You absolutely should. You've earned it. Everyone should. You may be wondering why the hell I chose to hang out my staphoscope in the middle of my career.

I was gonna ask that, but there were many reasons, including wanting to spend more time with my girls, who in 2010 were age 14, 16, and 18. Oh my God, you get better and better. And my wife, the love of my life, I'm solving. I'm solving. You're a wonderful human. You are. However, one contributing factor undoubtedly tipped the decision scale.

The factor was my tapaphobia, which I didn't even know had a name before I listened to episode, more of it episode, 253, buried alive. Well, maybe not genuine tapophobia, but definitely a weird variation of it. Okay. Ooh, that was a crazy episode. It all started when I was in my final year of vet school in 1993. The last year of veterinary studies

is spent in clinical practice. The students do rotations in various fields, gaining hands-on experience, preparing for finals, and mostly trying to find random snippets of sleep throughout the day or night. Most of the rotations are done in the University Teaching Hospital. While on duty, the student receives all incoming cases, does the initial intake, and then leaves the room to consult with the attending veterinarian on the case.

After that, the student and teacher return the owners to the owners, who have been anxiously waiting in the exam room with their ailing pet to complete the visit. Usually, the hospital attracts the unusual and challenging cases, referred to by stumped vets in the community, or brought in by owners who seek a second opinion. One stormy afternoon, while I was on clinic duty, a young couple was sent into my examination room with a lovely seven-year-old female bass at Hound named Bonnie. Bonnie! A lover. After introducing myself as a student in training

and explaining the teaching hospital's procedure, I asked them how I can help Bonnie. They told me that Bonnie was feeling fine and that they just wanted a complete checkup for her. I told them that this is a highly unusual request and reminded them that this is a teaching hospital that normally only sees complicated cases. They insisted on a routine physical and said,

we promise that after you complete the exam, we'll tell you why we're here. That would freak me the fuck out and I'd be like, what am I about to find inside of the stalk? That is ominous as fuck. We'll tell you why we're here. I examined the droopy-eyed hound from her perfectly healthy nose to the tip of her wagging tail.

Bonnie. I listened especially hard to hear her beating heart, trying to pick up a subtle murmur or anything that might tell me why the seemingly normal dog had been brought into taught me. I was sure that I had overlooked some rare disorder, but that at the end of my examination, I concluded that I could find nothing wrong with Bonnie. I told them that I'm going to consult with my attending and that they would both be back momentarily. After telling my teacher about the case, we returned to the exam room and the attending

doctor performed a complete physical, only to confirm, much to my relief, that she could find nothing wrong with Bonnie. She said that we could run blood work, but only after they tell us the reason for coming to an expensive referral center with a seemingly healthy pooch. Their story was morbid as fuck. Oh, that said. So they said that the week before, Bonnie was feeling weak and had started to limp on her hind leg.

The next day, she stopped eating and they took her to the neighborhood vet. He examined her and told them that she had advanced incurable bone cancer, and he recommended that they put her to sleep. Oh my God. He assured them that it was the humane choice because she was suffering and it would only get worse. They explained the heartbreaking situation to their two small children and told them that Bonnie was very sick and that she will be with grandma in heaven. Bonnie was euthanized and buried by her family in the woods, not far from their house. No, she wasn't, because she's here right now.

My following the tragic and unexpected chain of events, the family went on a four-day vacation to relax and mourn the loss of their beloved pet. When they returned home, Bonnie was waiting for them on the front porch. What? What? At first they assumed that a new bass at Hound had miraculously adopted them, but after visiting Bonnie's grave and finding it to be dug up with a torn body bag. They knew that Bonnie had either come back from the dead or had been buried alive. The latter being the more logical explanation.

Oh my God. Holy shit, she was hungry and had lost some weight, but was otherwise perfectly healthy. What? Which is why they chose an advanced teaching hospital for her post-mortal checkup. We never did figure out what ailment had mimicked her misdiagnosed bone cancer.

Because after running an additional battery of test, she was declared perfectly healthy. Oh my God. Happy to have Bonnie back, and after explaining to the children that no, Grandma is not coming back. Oh my God. They chose not to confront their now ex-Veteranarian

on his malpractice, which included not only a reckless and false diagnosis, but also a failed attempt at euthanasia. Holy shit. The case of Bonnie, the resurrected bastard, haunted me from that day on. I am. I don't even have words right now. That's dark.

Doug themselves out of their own grave. Oh my god. And that family, and this isn't even done yet, but that family had to think about the fact that they buried their pet alive. And that, well, they were on vacation, he unburied himself. She, I would literally be thinking about that 24, 7, that if that was Bailey, I'd be like, Oh my God, Bailey woke up in a body back. I know. And I had to dig herself out. Oh my God. Holy shit. I am just like, I'm like flabbergasted right now. Oh, okay, so it says,

Euthanasia of a pet is an act of mercy that we veterinarians are thankful to be able to perform when justified. Yeah. But every time we take a beloved pet's life, a little part of us dies with it. Oh, my practice was in a royal area where most owners choose to bury their pets.

So for me, the emotional burden of performing euthanasia was weighed down even more by the deep terror that I would fail and that the animal would be buried alive because of me. No. After every euthanasia, I was a mess. I had nightmares and couldn't sleep for days. The image of Bonnie standing on the porch to meet her grieving family wouldn't leave my mind. My Tafafobia by proxy eventually brought me to leave clinical practice.

A difficult decision, but one that I'm totally happy with in which has brought me new opportunities and adventures. So that's my story. Keep it weird, but not so weird that you obsess about burying dogs alive because of an asshole veterinarian that kills dogs for no reason and can't even get that right. Oh my God. Holy shit.

Like that's the thing. Why did, like, there was no, I'm just, I'm just saying things. I am shocked to say the, you know what? I totally get why you would leave. Yeah, that's a very scary, I always thought, like I'm always in like I'm really amazed by veterinarians that they can handle what they can handle when it comes to animals and and I always thought about that like when they you know when Bailey passed

away I was sitting there and I was like we're grieving but this poor vet has to go back and finish their day at work after they just killed, not like killed, but you know, I mean, like they just, they had to put this dog to sleep. I know I've never actually even really thought about that. And that's like a huge responsibility. For me, and that's why like we made sure like when it happened, we were like, thanks to them. And we're like, you know, thank you for making us feel comfortable about this.

And like, you know, we trust you. And like, thank you so much. Like, that's a huge burden that like, and for you to recognize that that just was like too much, like good for you. And I'm so glad that you found like new adventures and Bruce. I know you don't give a fuck, but like, you do give a fuck.

But Bruce, holy shit, dude. Oh, sketch my guy. Bruce, my guy, like, holy, I'm Bonnie. And Bonnie, I, that was a wild tit, like that tail just like, I'm a guy. I'm a gross, my guy. I'm a gross, I'm a bully. I'm a bully too, LOL. And Bonnie, that was a wild, like that tail just like, that shook me from like, my core. One of the craziest words. That's just really wild.

Thank you for sharing that. Me? Yeah. You said thank you for sharing that. And I was gonna say me too. Me too, motherfucker. Me too. And you know what, Bruce, have a great day.

Have a blessed day. Blessed day, yeah. And you know what, Bruce, have a great day. Have a blessed day. Blessed day, Bruce. Blessed, Brucey day. All right. I think we have time for one more listener tale. I'm going to be cold. Actually, you know what, let me see which one do I want to do. Let me see.

Oh, I found it. It's called listener tale, smiley face. Hello. I am more Morgan. I was going to call you more, but I am Morgan. I was gonna call you Morgan. I am Morgan. I am Morgan, a short term listener. I am, I don't even remember what case

I searched an Apple podcast to find y'all, but I'm glad I did. I love to. Me too, well happy to have ya. I love true crime and all thanks spooky. So what a great combo this podcast is. Hell yeah. Thanks for the spooky stuff.

You look at the spooky. I will preface this podcast is. Hell yeah. Thanks. You love the spooky stuff. Look at the spooky. I will preface this with that I am absolutely a believer in most. I just can't get behind the idea of zombies, but I'm open to someone to try to convince me. Things paranormal. I love that. I'm open to a zombie trying to convince. I'm open to it. I think there are some things in this world we can't explain. Even in the height of this technological era, there are still mysteries that have plagued humanity for millennia that we cannot explain. I agree.

I was beautifully written. I will say that this is not my only encounter with the paranormal. I have several. This is just the most recent. It's called, Who's Blood is It Anyways? I wish that was a name to a quirky game show. Alas, it is a burning question that literally haunts me.

Oh man, what a game show that would be. See, all right. Some background before I jump in. Setting summer 2020. Oh. I am very pregnant with my first child. Congrats. Congrats.

My husband and I purchased a home in my hometown as my mom is going to watch the baby when we have to go back to work. The house we purchased was in okay condition. Definitely livable, but the house had previously been a rental property, and the last tenants before we purchased the house left a mess and some damage to the home. The home was built in the early 80s, so every room had lovely popcorn ceilings. Before we moved in, we hired somebody to repaint every room and scrape those ceilings. This job was not quite finished before we moved in.

The master bedroom and the bathroom was the last two to be painted and scraped. So for the time being, our bed and most everything was in the living room for about two weeks until the contractor could finish the job. So onto the good part. My stepdad was having a birthday party in town. Anyone who had a key to my house was at this party. This will be important later. I was pregnant. Was the designated and was the designated driver for my husband. After a few hours, I was tired and I wanted to go home.

A severe summer storm. Oh, those are my favorite. I want to see your summer storm. So bad right now. Well, one had blew through and all the many party guests were now stuck inside. We live in Texas for anyone who is curious, and September is peak tornado season, so severe storms are common. We leave and I pull into the garage and my husband, who has only had about three beers, was still for the most parts over.

We walk through the kitchen when I observe that there's blood splattered on the kitchen tile. Oh, I think, okay, maybe Carl, our cat, hurt herself. Carl the cat, Carl the cat. I love it. And I love that Carl is a woman. Yeah.

She's a woman. She's a woman. Yes, she is a female cat named Carl. I didn't question that. I love that. She's like, I was like, I don't know. I am not giving any explanation into that. Just, yep, I love it.

I love it. So I as quickly as my pregnant body would allow, waddled into the living room to find more blood. What? There was blood spattered on the bed, waddled into the living room to find more blood. What? There was blood spattered on the blood on the bed, a blood trail across the living room, until it finally created a small pool by the front entrance. What? When I looked up, I saw in disbelief that the front door was wide open.

This was weird, as the door knob was still locked. What? So the best theory that we had was that the storm blew the door open, maybe an animal walked in and Carl fought it. Carl the female cat fighting the animals. Carl's fight meant. The only thing was Carl darts out any open door for the, oh my god, I'm so sorry.

The only thing was Carl darts out any open door the second it's opened and she was pleasantly sleeping in the guest room, perched on a box unbothered. Nothing had been moved in the house. No valuables taken, nothing out of place. There were several electronic items in plain sight that could have easily been stolen. What?

Before I could think straight, I was full on panic that the blood needed to be cleaned. It could not be on the floor. Yeah, obviously. The reason set in, then reason set in, and I decided to call my dad, who's a retired police officer. He immediately told me to call the police

and get out of the house in case there was still a person there. I think that was good advice. Me too, I would also give you that advice. So we waited my car until the police show up. They cleared a house, no one's inside, and we're allowed back in. They ask us some questions, most of which we have no answers for as we have no idea where this blood came from.

Our cats not injured nor do we have any injuries. They collect a blood sample and run a field test. It is human blood. What? They swab several locations and take the blood stain sheet from our bed and tell us to call if anything happens. What?

A few days later, I get a call from a detective telling me that she's just trying to close her case. The blood was ran through whatever system they had and there was no matches. Um, I'd be like, I don't live here anymore. I'd be like, that's not the end of this, my friend. It's not fast-forward, maybe a month. My husband and I were painting our office. We step out of the house to go have lunch and there's a small blood splatter on the freshly painted wall

that was definitely not there before. Currently, we find random blood every so often. What? In random spots, always small, nothing like the first time and we clean it and ignore it. What? There have been times in this house that I felt like I was being watched

or just got the shivers because I was feeling creeped out. Things have gone missing to return and not so obvious place days to a week later. Other than the creepy feelings I have, I've not had any feelings of malice. We ran a history check on the house and no one's died in the house. The land is not on an ancient burial ground. We have no idea who's blood it is or even what it means. It's very creepy and for the most part, I just like to pretend it didn't happen. What? I can send pictures if you'd like.

Yeah! Thanks for reading. Yeah, please don't do it. Please send pictures. Holy shit! You just find random blood in your house for no fucking reason. You gotta send it! I'm sh- You gotta call someone.

I call somebody other than the police because I don't know what they're gonna do past what they are doing. Maybe ghost busters. I'm not sure Call holy shit. That's fucking terrifying guys. What have you done this episode? What a strange episode that's scary as hell wow Damn, that's not those are some stories guys those were I want to know what that blood is I Gotta know I love that you just cleaned it. And it's like, is it fresh blood every time? Or does it show up like a little...

Fresh blood. There you go. That's a great sound. Is it like some of an old or is it always new? Is it a little mix of both? Do you get a variety pack of blood? What do you get? What do you get when you find it?

That's what we're all wondering here. We're a human, obviously, but like not, because there's no human inside. Sure not Carl, unless Carl is a human in a me, cat's body, and we're just finding a cryptid here, or maybe it's Frank. Frank. We're a Millerizer.

Look at you. Look at you bringing it. Bring it back around. I was finger guns and he just wrapped right around. All circle. I like it. I like it. Hey Doug.

Come on the pod. Come on the pod. Hey Frank, stop bleeding in that person's house. And hey guys, we love you. We do love you. We love when you send in these tales. And if you have a tale that you would like us to read on the pod, go ahead and send it on it into morbidpodcast at gmail.com.

And please put, listen, or tale somewhere in the subject line. Do it. We hope you keep listening and we hope you keep it weird. And keep it so weird that you name your female cat Carl. Thank you, Bob. Yes, do that. Hey, Prime Members! You can listen to morbid, early, and ad-free on Amazon Music. Download the Amazon Music app today, or you can listen ad-free with Wondery Plus and Apple podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey.