Something's coming. Do you hear it? Can you see it? Trundling across the common, following the old hollow ways, sauntering down the lane, rocking up into the market square, laying out its wares. It reels you in with mysteries, trades with you fantastic tales, spins for you fascinating stories. stories like the haunted pound stretcher flying saucers poisoners and body snatchers haunted woodland and the secret tunnels beneath our feet weird in the wade is on its way a podcast that explores everything that is weird wonderful and a little off kilter in the town of biggleswade in bedfordshire if you like your spooky stories told with a dash of historical context or you like your history with a pinch of the paranormal, then this is the podcast for you. Never miss an episode. Subscribe to Weird in the Wade wherever you're listening now. Prime Video. Hey there, I'm Susie and I'm the host of Beyond the Ferns podcast. Each week I take you beyond the headlines into the stories that linger long after the news fades. From chilling true crime and unsolved cold cases, to paranormal encounters, cults, and extraordinary survival stories. It's a little bit of everything for everyone. Whether you're drawn to mysteries, fascinated by the strange and unexplained, or simply love a good story, I focus on the truth, the details, and above all, justice for the victims and survivors. So buckle up, things are about to get a little scary. Follow Beyond the Ferns wherever you get your podcasts. Thanks, y'all. When the internet began, Bulletin Board Services, or BBS, became the first online communities of the so-called information superhighway. Using their phone lines, people logged in from all over America to talk about sports, games, movies, and on one BBS in particular, share their ghost stories. Over time, those communities all went dark, except for one lone server that continues to operate somewhere in an unknown part of Pennsylvania's Rust Belt. A relic of the 1990s, veiled in mystery, it is a digital archive of humanity's strangest encounters with the unknown, as told by the people who experience that. My name is Brandon Schexnider. And you are listening to Fear Daily. Subject, date night. User, BrillT8. Posted, June 11th, 1999. I don't know what to do with myself. My clothes feel tight on my skin, like they're two sizes too small. breaths are coming in tight, wheezing gasps. It's as if someone dug a trench between me and the rest of the world while I wasn't looking, trapping me in a nightmare. Downstairs, I can hear Greg in the kitchen, shaking a pan full of kernels, waiting for him to pop. It should be the most mundane thing in the world. It's Thursday, isn't it? Thursday, we always make popcorn and watch Carson, our pre-date night. We've done it every week since our girls went off to school last year. The problem is, the man downstairs making popcorn isn't really Greg, and I'm afraid he'll find out that I know. If you'd asked me up to about an hour ago whether our lives were in any way out of the ordinary, I'd have laughed. Maybe we'd paid our house off earlier than some of our friends have, and maybe we spend a little more than we should on the nice groceries, but that's as out there as we get. Don't get me wrong, we're happy, it's just not the kind of happiness Hollywood makes movies about. Greg and I met after college. He was the tall, handsome extrovert who approached me at a roller rink in our hometown. Eight months later, we were married, and two years after that, Janice our eldest was born Greg has a good job with the government allowing me to stay at home and take care of the girls I know some women don like being stay moms and that fine whatever you need. For me, it's been wonderful. I was actually thinking just that earlier tonight when the phone rang. We were sitting in the living room, each stretched out on our sofas which are perpendicular to one another. Between them is our snack table where we place our TV time goodies and remote controls and where the phone sits. Greg had been quiet, though that wasn't unusual. His job is mentally demanding, so sometimes he drifts off into his own head. It's kind of adorable, if I'm honest. When the phone rang, I glanced over to see if he was going to answer it. The pinched and tense look on his face was all the answer I needed. I sat up and grabbed the handset. Hello? Wanda? The voice at the other end spoke quickly. It's Greg. I know how this sounds, but please don't react. Your middle name is Meredith. You hate it. Our first house was in Green Meadows. It was a shithole, but we liked the water pressure and took the showerhead when we left. When Katie was three, she found her cigarettes and ran around with one in her mouth until we caught her. Pretend it's your mother calling. Please. My heart skipped a beat. Everything he said was true. The cigarette thing hadn't made us laugh until we were sick. Had we ever told anyone else? On the couch, Greg was still staring into the middle distance, yet his voice was speaking to me from the other end of the line. Billy, hurry. He's going to notice something's wrong if he hasn't already. Ice ran through my veins. Only Greg called me Billy. It was a nickname that came from something so intimate I won't even share it here. No one but him could know that. I stumbled over the words, stuttering. Hey, hey mom, it's late. Is everything okay? Greg turned toward me, looking concerned. What's up? He mouthed at me. I shook my head, working overtime to hold his gaze so he wouldn't think anything was out of the ordinary. Were his eyes different, or was that my imagination? Other Greg kept talking. His words clipped in fast. We don't have a lot of time, Billy. I'm sorry, I never told you the full truth about what we do at work. the nature of the projects our division oversees. I couldn't tell you because they'd know, and I was afraid of what you'd say, that it might change the way you saw me. There's so much more out there than we ever imagined, Billy. We always thought we were just observing, recording. It never occurred to us. They could be watching us right back. It was shit. A hand went over the receiver. I heard muffled voices. Wanda? It was Greg, the one in the room with me. Is your mom okay? White hot fear felt like it was clawing its way up my esophagus. I swallowed reflexively. I'm not sure, I stammered. She's being weird. I think she's talking to dad. He nodded, then lay back on his sofa, turning toward the television. At the other end of the call, I heard muffled grunts and shuffling as if someone were struggling. Father Greg came back on the line. Billy, get out of the house. You have to get out of the house now. Tell him your father is having a heart attack. Sell it however you can. Pack a bag and go. I'll meet you at the place. Something that had to have been a gunshot rang out, cutting Greg off. There was a moment of silence, then a click as someone at the other end replaced the receiver. Then, nothing. I held the phone away, staring at it. This couldn't be real. Hey, what's going on? Greg was looking at me, concerned. tears pricked at the corner of my eyes it's my dad i choked out i have to go see him of course baby of course he sounded so calm so soothing so greg i'll go get my boots on and warm up the car i panicked blurting out a too loud no his eyes narrowed no i said again Evening out my tone, it's okay. I don think it anything too serious You know how mom can be She over things sometimes I paused weighing my next words before saying You know she just like Billy Reg chuckled and gave me a smile. Yeah, you're probably right. Well, give your folks my best, and if you need me, just call and I'll come a-running. Popcorn will be ready for you when you get back. He slapped his knees and stood, walking into the kitchen. I watched him go. Hey, Greg, I called out to him. He stopped at the door. Yeah? When was the last time we saw Billy? He only hesitated a second. It was enough. I don't remember. It's been a while. We should have him over again soon. I smiled and nodded. left the room. I heard the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing while he looked for popcorn and a pot. Whoever that man was, he wasn't my husband. My heart pounded in my chest. I had to pack a bag. I had to go. But where? Hey, I'm Jeremy Schwartz from American Criminal. On this season, robbery gone wrong or cold-blooded murder? Either way, Boston will never be the same. Listen to American Criminal, The Murder of Carol Stewart, wherever you get your podcasts. Or to get early ad-free access, subscribe in Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or at AmericanCriminal.com. Ready to start your business? Go on with the Handels Platform for the Owners. Shopify helps you start, run and spread your business. With an improved themes you can build your brand, marketing tools let your products upvallen and integrated send-out-of-the-sales will be paid for starting and growing businesses. Both online, personally as well. Shopify is made for entrepreneurs like you. Meld je aan voor je proefperiode van 1 euro per maand op shopify.eu. was only 15 when he was killed and didn't end up having me until she was 22 herself, so I never got to meet him when he was alive, but sometimes she tells me I look like him, which I think is a compliment. Other times, usually when she's mad at me, she tells me I act like him too, and I know for a fact that's not a compliment. I say I never met him when he was alive, which is true, but I learned recently that I've been visited by Uncle Billy almost my entire life. When Mom was a kid, Grandma and Grandpa's house burned down while they were out at Wawayanda Beach, and they lost everything. I guess Grandpa liked to do his own DIY electrical work, and he wasn't as good at it as he thought. But lucky for them, the fire inspector was my great-uncle George's lodge brother, and when he wrote the report, he left out the part about it being my grandfather's fault. Insurance paid for a new house and furniture, but all the precious things, including family photos, were gone forever. Because of that, I had no way of knowing that the man who would appear to comfort me when Mom would go into her rages or when things were hard at school was my Uncle Billy. Not until last week when Sheldon, who used to play drums in one of Billy's bands, brought over a shoebox full of Polaroids he'd found in his garage. You should have seen the look on Mom's face. She was so happy she cried, and we sat together on the porch for an hour as she pointed out everyone in the photos, who they were and where they ended up. Usually, I'd think this kind of thing is a dumb waste of time, but mom is almost never in this good of a mood, and when she's like that, I actually like being around her. Billy looked just the way she said, handsome, tanned, long, brown hair down to his shoulders, and the only difference between the boy in the photos and the man who appears to me is that he looks older now and his hair is short. The first time Uncle Billy appeared to me was when my parents were getting divorced. There was a lot of fighting back then, and all the shouting really freaked me out. I'd hide in my room, my head under the covers, hyperventilating, and one time it went on so long I passed out. When I woke up, my covers were pulled back down to my chest, and there was a man standing over me, just see enough that the light of the sunset was streaming through his chest I thought it was a dream He smiled at me and laid his hand on my forehead I felt completely calm and passed right back out. When I woke up again, he was gone. The next time he came was when I was supposed to go to Action Park with my friend Chris and his parents. I was stuffing a towel and some granola bars into my backpack when suddenly Uncle Billy was there and placed his hand over the top of mine. I looked up at him and saw concern in his eyes. He shook his head. I asked him what he meant, but he never spoke. He just kept pushing down on my hand, then shaking his head. I told him I had to get going, that I was just going to go to Action Park with Chris and would be back. but that just made him shake his head harder. Later, I found out that Chris had come looking for me, but when I didn't answer the door, his parents told him they weren't going to wait. I never heard the doorbell, and I think that was Billy's doing too. I think he knew he couldn't convince a kid not to go to the water slides with gestures, so he distracted me long enough for it not to matter. He was right to do it because Chris and his family were hurt pretty bad when a bus full of families from Brooklyn lost control on a steep hill and crashed into their car. Everyone involved, including the other car hit by the bus, were headed to Action Park. A lot of people were pretty badly hurt and some of them were killed. I still feel kind of guilty for not being with Chris or not being able to warn him, but feeling guilty is better than being dead, I suppose. Uncle Billy has appeared to me about a dozen or so times over the years, but that was the only time that was for something so serious. He's mostly just been a calming presence when things were bad, and now that I know who he is, it's given me this hope for the future. Maybe not everyone who's gone is gone forever, and not everything has to hurt all the time. Fear Daily is an independent podcast hosted by Brandon Schecksneider and written by Brennan Storr, with Joanna Smith serving as the consulting editor, audio production by Rachel Boyd and sound design by Southern Gothic Media. This podcast is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to real events or locations, is entirely coincidental. Ad-free versions of Fear Daily are available now on your favorite podcast apps. For more information, visit feardaily.com. But move fast before the server goes offline. I write a lot of songs about relationships, but the truth is the song is never the whole story. Attachment Theory is a podcast about the things in relationships that keep us guessing. Why we stay, why we leave, and why we keep repeating the same patterns. Each episode is built around a song from my upcoming record. Not about the music itself, but about the love and heartbreak behind it, and the universal things that come up when we're face to face with the mirror of a romantic partner. If you've ever wondered, am I asking for too much, or just asking the wrong person? This podcast is for you. I'm Aubrey Sellers. This is Attachment Theory. I'm Rob Kirkup, and I am the host of How Haunted, the podcast where we explore the dark history and terrifying ghost stories of some of the UK's most haunted places, with the occasional trip overseas. Every other Friday, you'll hear tales of horror, chilling investigations with real audio from ghost hunts, and even the occasional guest, or polter guest, as I prefer to call them. Every October we go weekly for spooky season With a month of themed episodes Building up to a huge Halloween spooktacular And at Christmas I share your own real life ghost stories In the Nightmare Before Christmas special So search for How Haunted Wherever you get your podcasts And join me every fortnight As we ask the question How Haunted
