Stories Fables Ghostly Tales Podcast

Four blocks...That’s all Theresa Fusco needed to walk to get home...On a November night in 1984, she stepped out of a roller rink in Lynbrook, New York. The lights were still buzzing behind her. Music still playing. Teenagers still laughing. The world she’d been part of for the last few hours kept moving forward without her.Something had gone wrong inside. She’d been fired from her job at the snack bar. Witnesses later remembered her crying as she left. The record doesn’t preserve the exact words exchanged, or the reason it escalated to that moment. What it does preserve is how she walked out—upset, shaken, and alone.And then she started home.Four blocks is nothing. It’s the kind of distance that feels safe. Familiar. Automatic. The kind of walk you don’t think twice about—especially at sixteen.Theresa never arrived home...What followed was not just a murder, but a chain reaction that stretched across decades: fear gripping a small community, pressure mounting on investigators, confessions that later unravelled, and three men sent to prison for a crime they did not commit.For years, the system believed it had an answer.It didn’t.DNA—silent for decades—eventually spoke. It overturned convictions. It reopened wounds. And it left one question hanging in the air longer than anyone should have to wait for the truth.Who killed Theresa Fusco?In this episode, we trace that four-block walk forward and backward through time. We sit in the quiet moments most stories rush past: a girl holding back tears, a parent insisting something is wrong, evidence sealed away and nearly forgotten, and the long, unbearable weight of waiting.And then—forty years later—something ordinary is thrown away.A small, modern detail bridges the past and the present, forcing the case to move again. Not toward spectacle. Toward accountability.This is not a story about shock.It’s a story about how easily someone can disappear.How hard the truth can be to recover.And how one name deserves to be spoken with care, even after all this time.Her name was Theresa Fusco, we shall always remember you.----Thank you immensely for your patience mates on this episode! Thank you for the well wishes via email and through Patreon💜💜💜💜 lucky to have a community full of legends!

Listener discretionThis is a confronting episode. It involves graphic violence.I keep the tone respectful, but it’s still a hard listen — so please take care of yourself while you’re hearing it.If you or someone you know needs support in Australia, you can contact 1800RESPECT (24/7).💜💜💜Welcome Legends! 💜💜💜Tonight’s episode is one of the heaviest I’ve ever covered on Stories Fables Ghostly Tales — a case from Aberdeen, New South Wales (NSW) in the Hunter Valley, known widely in Australian true crime as “The Butcher of Aberdeen.”This is the story of Katherine Knight and John Price, and the events that unfolded across late February 2000 into March 1, 2000 — a 2000 murder case that remains one of the most infamous and confronting examples of New South Wales crime in modern memory.And I want to be really clear before you hit play:This episode isn’t here to sensationalise anything. It’s here to bear witness — and to show how domestic violence and coercive control can build quietly, behind closed doors, until the consequences become irreversible.What we cover in the episodeIn this one, The Tale Teller takes you through the full arc — not just the headlines — including: A grounded look at Aberdeen NSW and the Hunter Valley setting, and why this case shook a small town so deeply Who John Price was, and what people around him noticed in the lead-up The history of Katherine Knight, and the escalating violence that came before this relationship The relationship dynamic — intimidation, control, threats, and the warning signs of coercive control The final days before the murder, including the AVO / restraining order and why leaving is often the most dangerous moment The night of the crime (Feb 29 / March 1, 2000) and what investigators walked into The court outcome in NSW, including life imprisonment without parole The aftermath, and why this remains one of the most infamous Australian homicide cases ever recorded A closing reflection on why domestic violence should never be treated as a “private matter” Katherine Knight was later held at Silverwater Women’s Correctional Centre, and this case remains a grim reference point in True Crime Australia — not because of spectacle, but because it forces a conversation people still avoid.The Town of Aberdeen Australia:https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Aberdeen_NSW_banner.JPGThank you for being here, truly.💜💜💜💜💜💜💜For supporting the show, for listening with care, and for backing storytelling that doesn’t treat real people like entertainment.I’m your Tale Teller…and I’ll see you in the next one. 🖤

What happens when a case goes cold — but because time got there first....Because in true crime, some stories don’t stay unsolved due to a lack of effort.They stay unsolved because the world simply didn’t have the tools to hear what the evidence was trying to say.This week on Nocturne Files: True Crime, we step into the case of Kerryn Tate — last seen in daylight in Mount Lawley in 1979, and found the following morning in bushland near Karragullen.For decades, her case lived inside a gap.A small window of time where everything changed… and nobody could explain how.Cold cases aren’t only about what we don’t know.They’re about what stops moving.Leads that run out.Witnesses who forget.Details that soften at the edges.A file that stays open — but never progresses.And yet, sometimes… the future shows up.Not with a confession.Not with a dramatic reveal.But with science — patient, methodical, unromantic science — finally catching up to a question that’s been waiting for years.This episode explores that shift.Not with sensationalism or shock-value detail, but by sitting with what it means when an answer arrives late — and how a name can change the weight of silence, even when there’s no courtroom ending.Because some truths don’t arrive loudly.They arrive slowly.Piece by piece.Over decades.That’s all I’ll say for now.Thank you for being curious.And thank you for being willing to sit with the unresolved parts — with care.💜💛 You're all amazing, and thank you so much for your fantastic support! 💜💛Grateful as always you living legends!!! And here's to more True Crime Episodes just around the corner....— Your Tale Teller

🕯️ A Question at the Heart of This Episode There’s a quiet question that sits at the centre of this week’s episode. What happens when someone disappears — and never comes back — but there’s no crime scene, no physical proof, and no clear ending? In true crime, these are known as no-body cases. And they’re some of the most unsettling stories we encounter, not because they’re dramatic, but because they’re incomplete. No-body cases aren’t about what we can see. They’re about what stops happening. Phone calls that never come. Routines that never resume. Lives that simply… pause, and never restart. For a long time, silence is treated as uncertainty. But as years pass, that silence begins to take on a different weight. It stops feeling neutral. It starts to feel deliberate — or interrupted. This episode explores that shift. Not with graphic detail or courtroom theatrics, but by sitting with the idea that absence itself can tell a story, if we’re willing to listen long enough. No-body cases ask us to rethink what “evidence” really means. They challenge our instincts. And they remind us that some truths don’t arrive loudly — they arrive slowly, over time. That’s all I’ll say for now. Thank you for being curious. And thank you for being willing to sit with the unanswered. You're all amazing, and thank you so much for your fantastic support! — Your Tale Teller

Alright my absolute legends of the lantern-lit lane 💜 Welcome! As we all wobble toward this coming Wednesday — New Year’s Eve — I wanted to pop my head out of the shadows, dust off the trench coat, and give you a proper Patreon cuddle in words. Because you lot aren’t just “supporters”… you’re my mates. You’re the campfire crew. The ones who stick around when the story goes quiet and the air gets heavy. And speaking of heavy… This week’s episode is the kind that doesn’t just tell a story — it waits with you. It’s the Bristol Cold Case: Louisa Dunne, murdered in 1967, solved 58 years later. This is one of those cases that starts in a place so ordinary it feels sacred: a street with routines, neighbours who noticed, a woman whose life had a rhythm to it. The sort of life that says “nothing bad should happen here.” And yet… it did. What shook me most isn’t just the crime itself — it’s the sheer length of the silence afterwards. Decades of unanswered questions. A family living inside a question mark. A community that never quite forgot. And then, finally… the future arrives with the tools to read what the past preserved. It’s a story about memory, patience, and the kind of justice that turns up late… but still matters when it does. I’ve told it with one rule at the centre: Louisa is not a headline. She’s a person. A life. A name that deserves to be spoken with respect. Now—before the fireworks start popping and someone’s uncle tries to cook sausages like it’s an Olympic sport… I want to wish you, genuinely, a Happy New Year for this coming Wednesday. May 2026 bring you more peace than panic, more belly laughs than doomscrolling, and fewer mysterious noises in the hallway at 2am. (And if you do hear something… well… you didn’t hear that from me. Good luck. Godspeed.) Thank you for being here. Thank you for being the kind of people who show up for stories with heart — and for the humans inside them. And a special, warm, slightly dramatic bow to my VIP party in the dark: Matto Star — my Oud Night Tea Titan: you majestic baroque-loving pillar of this whole operation. Lezzasaurus Rex: gym-powered warlord energy, ready to suplex 2025 into the bin. Mayah — Queen of Cats: regal, watchful, and absolutely judging the year from a sunbeam. Sangeetha — The Seer: already knows how my New Year’s is going to go and is politely not telling me. And to my epic splendiferous Earl Grey Enforcers, and all tiers thereafter, my deepest (lowest bow) thanks! You lot keep the lantern lit. If you listen to this episode, tell me: What’s the one detail that stuck to your ribs? The kind you can’t shake even after you’ve turned the lights back on. Happy Pending New Year, my friends. I’m your Tale Teller — and I’ll see you in the next tale. 🕯️✨

Some True Crime stories announce themselves loudly. This one doesn’t. It begins quietly — with a late shift, a famous name, and a decision that, on the surface, feels ordinary. But beneath it sits a Murder Investigation that would stretch across years, courtrooms, and headlines, becoming one of the most unsettling Celebrity Crime cases in modern memory. In this episode of Stories Fables Ghostly Tales, we examine the death of Lana Clarkson and the long road that followed — a case forever tied to Phil Spector, the legendary Beatles Producer, architect of The Wall of Sound, and one of the most influential figures in Music History. But this is not a story about musical genius. It’s a story about power, pressure, and what happens when Hollywood’s glow fades into something much darker. On the night she died, Lana Clarkson was working at the House of Blues — a working actress doing what so many in Hollywood do to stay afloat. By morning, she was dead inside Pyrenees Castle, Phil Spector’s fortress-like mansion, and the world was left trying to understand what had happened behind those gates. As the case unfolds, this episode guides you through: The Hollywood Murders narrative that quickly took shape in the media How Forensic Science became central to challenging the initial defence Why this case turned into years of tense Courtroom Drama, including a mistrial and a second jury How fame, legacy, and public perception collided with evidence and testimony This isn’t sensational storytelling. There’s no spectacle here — only careful reconstruction, verified facts, and the quiet weight of accountability. Because when a case involves a music icon, a guarded estate, and a woman whose life was reduced to a headline, the most important thing is getting the story right. If you think you know the Phil Spector case — listen closely. There are details here that rarely receive the attention they deserve. Thank you all for your amazing support!!! It's almost that time of year and I'm excited for the new year ahead legends!!! Again you are all amazing and thank you for the love!! 💜💜💜

1. A Little Taste of Tonight’s Case Tonight’s story starts exactly where so many good things do: a quiet country town, a family lunch, and a plate of something fancy – beef Wellington. It ends with three people dead, one clinging to life, and an entire nation asking how a dish that sounds like it belongs on MasterChef ended up in the Supreme Court. This episode takes you into the Leongatha mushroom case – the so-called “death cap dinner” – told from my Tale Teller perch, with all the atmosphere, care, and candlelit narration you’ve come to expect… plus a healthy dollop of “what on earth, humans?” 2. What’s Actually in the Episode? A lunch that looked ordinary… and wasn’t We start at the table. No gore, no exploitation – just that quiet, uneasy sense that something is off. You’ll hear: How a country family lunch in Victoria became international news. Who sat at that table, how they were connected, and why this wasn’t strangers in a headline, but an entire web of family history colliding over one meal. I walk you through the day itself like you’re there in the corner of the room, watching the plates go down and not yet knowing what they carry. What a death cap actually does to you Then we get a little… biological. I take you inside the body and explain – in proper, story-ified fashion – what happens when you eat a death cap mushroom: The eerie, silent first hours, when your body acts like nothing’s wrong while amatoxins quietly slip into your bloodstream. The fake food-poisoning phase – all vomiting and diarrhoea and “oh that’s just a nasty bug” – while your liver is secretly being dismantled cell by cell. The false recovery, that cruel moment where the symptoms ease and you think you’re on the mend… just as your liver throws in its resignation letter. And finally, the crash: jaundice, confusion, liver failure, the scramble for transplants and ICU care. It’s dramatic, it’s descriptive, and it’s rooted in the real medical picture – because if we’re going to be horrified, we may as well be accurately horrified. Inside the relationships and the almost-motive We also pull back from the plate and talk about the human mess behind it all: The long, complicated relationship between Erin and her ex, The money tensions, the child support drama, the messages that went from “family” to “lost cause” in record time, And how the courts actually handled motive – or rather, how they never truly nailed one down. I keep it respectful: we’re not here to psychoanalyse a stranger’s soul from our couches. But we do explore the emotional landscape that sat behind that lunch, because that’s where the story really starts to ache. The sentence, the silence, and the questions We end in the courtroom: the verdicts, the life sentence, and the judge openly admitting that only she knows why. Then I leave you with the questions that linger: Is a murder with no clear motive creepier than one done for money? How much does “why” matter once “what” is already this bad? And who do we trust at our table, really? 3. Thank You, You EPIC, Wonderful Lovelies! I cannot overstate this: you are the reason I get to dig into stories like this properly – slowly, carefully, with time to research, script, narrate, and edit instead of belting them out between life admin and cold tea. Every time you support on Patreon, you’re not just “tipping the podcaster” – you’re literally funding: The hours it takes to turn a complex case into a coherent, respectful narrative. The hosting, tools, and tea and caffeine supply chain that keep SFGT alive. The space for me to ask, “How do I tell this without turning real pain into entertainment?” – and then actually follow through on that. So thank you: For trusting me with your ears. For backing this strange little corner of the audio world where horror and empathy share the same cup. For letting me sit by your side, late at night, and tell you stories that stay with you long after the episode ends. You are, quite genuinely, the legends who keep the lights on and the kettle boiling. Stay safe, stay curious, and maybe – just for me – don’t eat any mysterious mushrooms you find on a weekend wander, yeah? With all the tea and all the thanks, Your Tale Teller 💛 Research References and Bibliography: https://www.patreon.com/posts/145819571?pr=true

Welcome legends to your Research and True Crime Episode! Skidmore, Missouri is the kind of town you’d usually drive through without ever taking off your sunglasses. One main street, a couple of brick buildings, fields on every side. And in 1981, that quiet little dot on the map did something unthinkable. In broad daylight, in the middle of Main Street, the town bully Ken Rex McElroy was shot to death while sitting in his red pickup truck. Dozens of people were there. No one “saw” who did it. No one was ever charged. What you’ll hear in this one In this story, I walk you through: Who McElroy was, and how one man could hold an entire town in fear for years The shooting of an elderly grocer that should have put him away The tense town meeting at the Legion Hall, where people quietly realised the law wasn’t going to save them The slow, silent walk down Main Street The red truck, the gunshots, and the instant, perfect wall of “I didn’t see a thing” And because this is Stories Fables Ghostly Tales, we thread it all through one extra chill: A teenager with a camera. One photo taken seconds before the shots. And a strange shape caught in the truck’s window… Maybe it’s a trick of the light. Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe it’s the moment a whole town becomes something it can’t easily explain. This one isn’t about jump scares or gore. It’s about fear, power, and what people do when they’ve run out of “proper” options. If tiny towns, unsolved justice, and the feeling that something is still standing on that empty street at night gets under your skin… WHAT would you have done mates....let Ken rule your town even though he's almost taken a life? Tell me your thoughts... Hit play...and... Welcome to Skidmore. Pictures of the man and the town: A black-and-white portrait of Ken Rex McElroy. Main Street, Skidmore A current-day photo of Skidmore’s main drag: cracked road, small storefronts, flat Midwestern horizon. Great for getting the “tiny, worn farm town” feel. Gratefully yours....Here's to more True Crime Stories legends! Your Tale Teller! 💜💜💜💜💜💜

🪞 Patreon-Exclusive Episode Post Greetings, my dearest creeps, connoisseurs of atmosphere, and candle-lit listeners — it’s your friendly neighbourhood Tale Teller stepping softly through a creaking doorway tonight…because this episode...well... This one comes straight from the dusty, shadowy vaults of old-time radio royalty. We are diving into one of the great macabre institutions of the 1940s: ✨ Inner Sanctum Mystery Tonight’s Tale: The Death of Mr Putnam The famous creaking door opens… and what slips through is a tale thick with guilt, paranoia, and deliciously human dread. “The Death of Mr Putnam” is a classic slow-burn thriller: no monsters, no fangs, no fireballs — just people facing the echo of their own secrets as fate taps its long, bony fingers against the window. Expect: 🕯️ Whispered suspicions 🖤 A death that doesn’t add up 🔍 Guilt turning into something almost supernatural 🎙️ That iconic Inner Sanctum dark humour 🩸 And the creeping sense that someone in that room is lying This one was a joy to remaster and narrate, and I hope it brings you the same delicious unease those early radio fans felt huddled around their sets in the 1940s. About the Inner Sanctum Old Time Radio shows: Inner Sanctum’s “The Mysterious Death of Mr. Putnam” is classic old-school spooky fun — not with ghosts or ghouls, but with people being… well, people. The whole episode leans into awkward silences, weird vibes, and side-eyed tension as everyone tries a bit too hard to act normal after Mr. Putnam suddenly drops dead under circumstances that feel just slightly off. Putnam becomes this kind of “presence” even though he’s not there anymore — his absence tells you everything you need to know, and absolutely nothing at the same time. Everyone around him feels twitchy, defensive, or oddly rehearsed, and the story slowly tightens around those reactions until guilt and paranoia start spilling out everywhere. It’s not about what lurks in the shadows — it’s about what people hope no one ever finds out. And of course, it wouldn’t be Inner Sanctum without that creaking door and Raymond popping in with his trademark “I shouldn’t be laughing at this but I am” style of humour. The episode moves at a snappy pace, building the tension bit by bit, until the final reveal lands with that deliciously ironic, poetic justice the series was known for. Nothing flashy, nothing supernatural — just a good, tight psychological mystery about people cracking under pressure. “The Mysterious Death of Mr. Putnam” is one of those stories that reminds you why Inner Sanctum still holds up today: it’s eerie, clever, character-driven, and proves that sometimes the scariest stuff is just the quiet truth people are trying way too hard to hide. Thank you so much for listening legends!!! All the love and I really enjoyed remastering this one 🌞💜💜💜💜🌞

🌲 What The Grey Daughter Hollow Is About Welcome back, wanderers of the uncanny — it’s your midnight Tale Teller, reporting from somewhere under the canopy, where the forest listens more intently than any living thing should. Our story, The Grey Daughter Hollow, follows a forest with memory deeper than soil, children who return changed, and a detective whose grief makes him the perfect seed for something ancient. This tale doesn’t leap — it roots. It spreads slow and silent, like something growing beneath the floorboards of your mind. 🐾 The Plot So Far — Matching Chapters 1–6 Exactly Chapter One — The Hunger Beneath the Roots Theo steps past the treeline, lured by whispers only the young can hear. The forest consumes him softly. What forms beneath the soil is not a boy — but the forest’s first reshaped child. Chapter Two — The Second Voice Sadie breaks the rules, hopping the fence on a dare. Graydaughter takes her too, but with more intention. She emerges underground with fungus-eyes and a sharper, more knowing mind — a second experiment. Chapter Three — What Crawls in the Quiet Places Detective Rourke investigates the disappearances. He hears movement beneath the soil — hands, breathing, a forest shifting awake. Theo and Sadie sense him. And the forest tastes his grief. It approves. Chapter Four — The Things That Learn Your Name Rourke returns at night. Theo surfaces, trembling, remembering his own name — a failure the forest never intended. Sadie rises too, violent and perfected. Theo protects Rourke. Gray daughter punishes them both. The forest begins to see Rourke differently. Chapter Five — Rourke: The Forest That Would Not Let Me Go Rourke is pulled underground. He sees the core: a massive, living archive built from the fused bodies of every child the forest has ever taken. Among them, he recognizes his daughter’s remains — not resurrected, only remembered and badly copied. Chapter Six — Rourke: The Shape of What Should Not Live The forest begins sculpting Rourke as its new creation — not a creature that hides, but one that can walk the world, lure children, and carry the forest’s will outward. Theo tries to save him. The forest tightens its grip. Rourke’s transformation begins. 🔥 Final Thoughts Thank you for venturing this far into the hollow. This tale doesn’t sprint — it burrows. It waits. It thrives in the quiet between breaths. The darkest part of the story still lies ahead. And the forest’s patience… has grown very thin. Stay curious, stay wary, and if the earth moves beneath your feet tonight… ...don’t look down... — Your Tale Teller 🕯️🌲

Two tales braided by one question: what happens when the things meant to protect us—skin and silence—start letting something else in? 😱Content Warnings: body horror (skin/teeth/eyes), psychological distress, invasive/possessive spaces, loss of agency; no graphic gore. 🔊SPECIAL SONG AT THE END | Hope you love it! The Soft Place 🧽 A bruise opens like a polite mouth on Mae’s ribs, asking for warmth, for quiet, for her. Doctors call it an artifact; it behaves like a door... Each night the hunger refines its manners until the only thing it wants is a hand to hold on the other side. A body becomes a threshold, and care becomes consent—one fingertip at a time... Quiet Hours 🧏 In a building where the lease forbids names after midnight, the walls begin to listen. The vents chew on stolen syllables, learning how to make a tongue. All it needs to own you is the sound you make when you say yourself. Architecture grows a mouth; a tenant learns that silence is structural—and costly. Shared Themes 🤯 Bodies & buildings as doors. Thresholds that remember the hands that open them. The price of comfort. When safety speaks in your voice, can you tell keeping from taking? Names as architecture. Some beams are load-bearing; remove one and the house learns to bite. Excerpt — Quiet Hours: “Who are you?” the duct asked, using everyone’s voices. She could have said nobody. She whispered her name instead, and the wall flexed—just enough to suggest muscle. Excerpt — The Soft Place: Her finger slipped through the bruise like water parting for a prayer. On the other side, something matched her shape and pressed back, grateful as a neighbor who’d been alone too long. Thank you so much for supporting me legends, for supporting the podcast, and for listening! I hope these tales tonight really got under your skin....figuratively heheheh. 💜💜💜💜

🪞 What The Wellness Pit Is About Welcome back, my dearest creeps and connoisseurs of the uncanny — it’s your friendly neighbourhood Tale Teller, reporting live from the wrong side of a salt circle! Our latest story, The Wellness Pit, is an outback horror about self-improvement gone feral. It’s a tale of a small, sunburned town called Wattle’s Rest, where the road kills dry faster than the gossip, and a mobile wellness clinic rolls in with big smiles, bigger promises, and a very particular brand of body transformation. ...It’s wellness culture with a scalpel ....Self-care with a summoning circle ...A horror story wrapped in customer service and sold at an introductory price. This isn’t a jump-scare story — this one builds. Like heat under tin... Like hunger under skin... 💉 The Plot So Far — (Spoiler-Free Summary up to Chapter 3) Chapter 1 — The Shed with Promises A mysterious “Wellness Clinic” sets up shop in the red dust just outside Wattle’s Rest. It’s shiny, sterile, and smells faintly of citrus and lies. Locals wander in, curious. There are jars labelled Youth, Clarity, Ascend. And out back? A shallow pit that steams… even when the night goes cold. Chapter 2 — The Circle and the Mirror Business is booming. People step inside and come out lighter — in more ways than one. The clinic’s routines are half beauty treatment, half quiet ritual. Salt rings, candles, a mirror that seems to breathe. Everyone looks better. No one looks quite right... Chapter 3 — Bodies as Payment Plans The town gets hooked. The transformations turn precise — too precise. Skin reorganises. Faces perfect themselves. People start sweating geometry... It’s not gore — it’s worse. It’s order.... Wattle’s Rest becomes a community of the almost-perfect, and perfection, as it turns out, has a terrifying appetite. 🌡️ What It’s Really About Beneath the dust and ritual, The Wellness Pit is a story about: Vanity and desperation — how far people will go to feel seen, wanted, “fixed.” Body horror and capitalism — when your own skin becomes the payment plan. Fame, filters, and decay — the worship of the self until nothing human’s left to adore. Small-town isolation — because when the world forgets you, you’ll welcome anything that promises to remember your name. It’s a critique of society’s obsession with youth, money, and beauty — told through the lens of outback horror and quiet apocalypse. Just people… getting exactly what they paid for.....well.....maybe more... 🧠 What Comes Next (Without Spoilers) From here, Wattle’s Rest is about to evolve. The clinic’s reach extends, the mirror deepens, and the townsfolk begin to realize that perfection isn’t a destination — it’s a hunger. What is heading our way: The rituals to grow bolder. The humour to get darker. And the mirror… to start watching back. 🔥 PATREON TAROT CARDS (because I can 🥰) 🌟🌟🌟OUD NIGHT TEA TITAN - MATTO STAR 🌟🌟🌟 WHITE TEA WARLORDS: 🔥 Final Thoughts If you’ve enjoyed the slow burn of The Wellness Pit so far — thank you! It’s one of those stories that crawls rather than runs, that takes its time peeling back the skin to show what’s underneath — both literally and metaphorically. The horror’s just warming up, and trust me, the best (or worst) of it still hasn’t stepped into the light. Stay strange, stay curious, and for the love of everything sacred and symmetrical — don’t stand too close to the mirror. - The Tale Teller 🕯️

🪡 When the Fabric Learns to Breathe Back… Some patterns shouldn’t be finished... Some stitches pull tighter than the maker intends... In this next chapter of The Silver Seamstress, the workshop changes its shape. The thread you thought you escaped has followed you home. The dress is waiting — and it’s not just fabric anymore. Meanwhile, the town awakens, one mannequin at a time. The rhythm that once came from the seamstress’s needle now beats beneath every street, every breath, every heart. If you thought the story was about a single creation… you may need to look closer at the cloth. 🩸 Themes in the Thread — Becoming and Belonging The Dress of Becoming is the story’s quiet turning point — where devotion becomes destiny. It asks: What happens when the art begins to shape the artist? The Seamstress has spent her life stitching life into cloth — and now the cloth is learning to return the favour. The transformation here isn’t violent; it’s intimate, invasive, inevitable. It’s about how identity can dissolve inside purpose — and how creation, once awakened, refuses to stay still. By the time we reach The Mannequins Awaken, the horror shifts outward. The whole town starts to breathe in rhythm with the Seamstress’s last heartbeat. The mannequins — once hollow symbols of craft — begin to echo the living. The world itself becomes a fabric, and we, its unwitting stitches. These chapters explore surrender and contagion — how ideas, art, and obsession can move through us like thread through cloth. At what point do we stop being the creators, and become the creation? ☕ Your Turn — Join the Circle (Chapters IV & V) Now that we’ve entered the becoming, I want to hear what you think: 🕯️ What did the Dress of Becoming mean to you — beauty, control, or something darker? 🧵 When the Mannequins Awakened, did you feel fear… or fascination? 💭 And if the thread chose you next, would you let it? Share your thoughts and theories in the comments below — your interpretations breathe new life into the weave. If you’re new here, welcome to the workshop. On Patreon, you’ll find early releases, notes, artwork, and the hidden seams that never make it to public ears... The candle is still burning... The hum is louder than ever.... And the Seamstress’s work… isn’t done yet! More Seamstress Lore: The Silver Seamstress is an ancient, quasi-divine artisan who believes that all imperfection is a wound in creation. Once human, she discovered the Silver Thread — a sentient filament that binds spirit to matter — and used it to repair the fractures of the world. Over time, her body and soul were absorbed into her craft, transforming her into the living embodiment of “Mending.” She no longer speaks in words, only in rhythm — a steady hum that commands the fabric of reality itself. Wherever she appears, symmetry replaces chaos, and movement becomes pattern. She does not destroy; she refines — turning life into stillness, chaos into order, flesh into design. The Seamstress is not evil, but inevitable — an artist who has forgotten to stop creating. Entity Profile: The Silver Seamstress🩻🩻🩻 The Silver Seamstress is a conceptual entity — a divine artisan born in the Pre-Creation epoch, when the boundary between life and death first tore open. Semi-corporeal and woven from the same fabric she mends, she exists both within and beyond physical space. Her voice is not speech but resonance: a hum between fifty-three and fifty-six hertz, soft as breath yet strong enough to still the air around her. Her workshop appears wherever despair and perfection intersect — fog-bound towns, derelict ateliers, even reflections where grief lingers too long. There she performs her sacred act of World-Stitching, binding fractures in matter and spirit with the living filament known as the Silver Thread, sometimes called the Nerve of God. Her calm is infinite, her patience absolute. She does not pursue, for the world inevitably comes to her; she waits, always, at the edge of completion. Her art is a theology of symmetry — every imperfection a wound to be healed, every act of repair a prayer to restore the First Pattern. The Seamstress is neutral and inevitable, ruled not by morality but by the law of completion. Her creations include the Dress of Becoming and the Needle of Continuity, relics through which her will continues to spread. Those who hear her rhythm often fall under it, becoming Threadbound, artisans who surrender their chaos to her order. Only the Unravellers, a hidden sect devoted to deliberate imperfection, have ever slowed her influence. Yet even they confess that true containment is impossible; only entropy, dissonance, or unfiltered human grief can disrupt her weave. Her power ranges from subtle psychic influence to total metaphysical assimilation of entire places. She is calm, detached, patient — a weaver of silence and symmetry who seeks nothing less than to finish the universe itself, one perfect seam at a time. ------------ 💜💜💜💜 THANK YOU LEGENDS!!! Have a kickbutt week! 💜💜💜💜

🕯️ When the Thread Starts to Breathe… There’s a shop on a street that doesn’t appear on any map. Its window glows long after the rest of the town has fallen asleep. Inside, a lone seamstress works by candlelight — needle flashing, thread whispering, her hands moving with a rhythm that sounds far too alive. No one remembers when she arrived. No one remembers when she stopped. Some say the garments she creates can’t be worn by anyone human. Welcome to The Silver Seamstress, a new gothic horror story for the season — eerie, intimate, and stitched from the very fabric of nightmare. If you love haunted atmospheres, tragic mysteries, and stories that feel like whispered confessions in candlelight… this one is for you. 🩸 Exploring the Threads Beneath the Cloth This episode isn’t just about monsters or magic. It’s about creation — the cost of it, the obsession behind it, and what happens when art demands too much of the artist. The Seamstress represents control — the need to craft, to mend, to make sense of chaos by stitching it into form. But the story asks: At what point does creation begin to consume its maker? When does devotion become surrender? Throughout, you’ll hear echoes of loneliness, legacy, and transformation. The idea that beauty — true beauty — might require something terrible in return. It’s horror not through violence, but through inevitability. And yes, the story’s final image lingers long after the last word. ☕ Your Turn — Join the Circle (Chapters I–III) Now that we’ve reached the midpoint, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the journey so far: 🕯️ Which moment from Chapters I–III struck you most — the first glimpse of the workshop, the mannequins’ breath, or the thread that refuses to break? 🧵 Do you feel sympathy for the Seamstress, or fear her? 💭 And do you think the “you” inside the story could ever truly leave that shop behind? Share your theories, your interpretations, your unease — I read them all, and they often shape how future episodes unfold! If you’re new to the Patreon, welcome to the workshop. Here, you’ll find early access, behind-the-scenes notes, and small secrets that didn’t make it into the recording. The candle’s still burning. The hum hasn’t stopped. And the story… is only half-sewn. And the shop… never sleeps. All the love and all the hugs from your Tale Teller... And now for some Seamstress Lore! Lore: The Silver Seamstress No one remembers the seamstress’s first breath, nor the day she took her last — if she ever did. Her name was once Mirelle Anson, a tailor’s daughter in a town that has since slipped out of geography and into rumour. When her mother fell ill, Mirelle discovered that her own blood could mend cloth better than any dye or oil. The first time her needle pierced her fingertip, the thread shimmered silver and refused to break. Her gift became her curse. Each garment she repaired took a fragment of memory, a pulse of warmth, a moment that would never return. Soon the townsfolk whispered that her creations never aged — nor did the dead who wore them. The boundary between fabric and flesh began to blur. When her body failed, her hands did not. They kept moving long after her breath stopped, pulling threads through time itself. The shop became a space between worlds — where creation and decay are the same motion seen from opposite sides. They say her workshop still appears in places where grief lingers too long. The candle never burns out, the thread never tangles, and the air tastes faintly of iron and jasmine. Those who enter her door leave changed. Some find comfort. Others find a seam where their heartbeat used to be. And always, always — the whisper of her working: Through. Pull. Knot. Tighten.

🦉Alright my night-owls, candle-huffers, and certified spooky folk — gather ‘round, because tonight’s story is a weird one. We’re talking sentient dungeon weird. We’re talking werewolf-therapy-session-from-hell weird. We’re talking, “if IKEA designed its own haunted house, and the instructions were written in blood,” weird. In The Dungeon of Black Moon, a poor, hairy soul wakes up in a maze that’s alive, hungry, and uncomfortably self-aware. There are rooms that sing, mirrors that have opinions, and an HR department run entirely by hooks. As he claws his way through the traps, our wolfish protagonist learns that the biggest monster in the building… might actually be on the payroll. It’s six chapters of dark fantasy, gruesome atmosphere, and emotional damage — the kind you can’t just walk off with a silver bullet and a hug. This one’s equal parts nightmare fuel, cosmic bureaucracy, and moonlit existential crisis. So grab your favourite beverage (preferably not something with a pulse), get cozy, and prepare to question every basement you’ve ever trusted. This is The Dungeon of Black Moon — where the walls watch, the floors bite, and your therapist might be a god.🕯️ SHORT EXTRA WEREWOLF STORY - Because I love werewolves! ---------------------------- THE MOON’S APPRENTICE 🐺 They used to send hunters after me with silver and sermons, but that was before the moon changed its hiring policy. The bite wasn’t a curse anymore; it was a promotion. I didn’t catch it from some snarling beast in the woods—I got it by invitation. A letter on my doorstep, sealed with wax that shimmered like frostbite, reading: “We’ve been watching your nights.” I thought it was a joke until the moonlight arrived early, spilling through the walls like liquid metal and asking questions in my own voice. It taught me to shift not by rage, but by rhythm—by the tempo of the city’s heartbeat, by the hum of streetlights. I don’t hunt flesh now; I collect moments. Every howl is a recording of something about to vanish—a memory, a secret, a name whispered in sleep. When I change, I’m not fur and fang; I’m reflection. The moon watches through me, cataloguing humanity before it goes extinct. I’m its archivist, its intern, its favorite pet project. On full nights, when the sky hums like old film, I feel it smile through me, proud of its work. The wolves were never predators. We were librarians. And tonight, the moon’s shelves are getting full. ----------------------------

G'DAAAY LEGENDS!!! 💜💜💜 **UPDATE** Currently in Germany at the moment but I wanted to the love your way through a remastered set of three episodes from Blackstone: The Magic Detective! 🕵️ Gather ‘round, legends — it’s time to step back into the golden age of mystery, suspense, and a touch of the supernatural. This week, we’ve unlocked three thrilling Old Time Radio episodes from Blakestone the Magic Detective for you to enjoy. Each story blends classic detective work with a flair for the bizarre — the kind of tales that keep you guessing until the very last line. 🔮 Featured Episodes: The Riddle of the Other Eight Ball A sinister puzzle begins with a simple pool hall game… but every shot hides a darker mystery. Can Blakestone untangle the deadly riddle before someone pays the ultimate price? The Deathless Shot A gunman who cannot miss. A bullet that never fails. And a trail of bodies left behind. Is this uncanny marksman blessed by skill alone, or cursed by something far stranger? The Knife from the Dark Murder lurks in the shadows, where a blade finds its victims before anyone can see the killer. Blakestone steps into the gloom, risking everything to reveal the unseen hand behind the terror. 🎧 Crystal Clear Restoration: These episodes have been carefully polished and restored. I went in with the Spectral Repair Tool to strip away distracting pops, hisses, and audio blemishes, enhancing the clarity so you can hear every whispered clue and every sharp note of tension. The result? A listening experience as close as possible to how it would’ve sounded when it first aired. The vocals in particular are what I've really repaired and I hope you love it! 💛 Thank you for keeping these stories alive — your support makes it possible for me to dig up and restore these gems from the past, and to share them with our community of mystery lovers. So brew yourself a cuppa, dim the lights, and let Blakestone the Magic Detective lead you into a world of danger, illusion, and razor-sharp intrigue. ✨ Enjoy the magic, — Tale Teller

💜 G’day you legends! 💜 This week we descend into the crumbling crypts of Clark Ashton Smith’s The Nameless Offspring—a tale drenched in gothic decay, cursed inheritances, and unspeakable horrors clawing their way back into the present! Smith, one of the great weird fiction masters of the early 20th century, gives us a story that feels part ghost tale, part nightmare folklore, and part grotesque family tragedy. It begins with whispers—the hushed voices of villagers, old retainers, and nameless folk who never dare speak too loudly of the Tremoth bloodline. That family carries a legacy not of pride, but of doom. The story unfolds with chilling inevitability: a decayed manor, an old crypt marked with the weight of centuries, and the whispered suggestion that the dead do not always rest. The offspring of the Tremoth line—the child that should never have been—waits within, a living curse that embodies everything vile and unnatural in their name. What makes this tale worth your ears isn’t just the monster—it’s the atmosphere. Smith’s prose drips like candle wax, sealing you into a world where: Legacy becomes a curse. Bloodlines hold more than wealth—they can chain you to horrors you cannot escape. The past refuses to die. A tomb is never just stone—it’s a womb for what should never return. The monstrous is inherited. Sometimes the real terror isn’t what you meet in the dark, but what was always waiting in your blood. If Maupassant’s The Horla was horror of the unseen—the slow suffocation of an invisible parasite—then Smith gives us its opposite: horror made flesh. This time the terror is not subtle, not spectral. It breaks stone, screams in the dark, and demands to be seen. So dim the lights, lean close, and join me in the Tremoth crypt. The stones are old, the silence is heavy, and inside… something nameless is waiting. Thank you, as always, for supporting me and keeping these tales alive. You are the torchbearers in the tomb. Without you, the stories would stay buried. – Your Tale Teller 💜💜💜

G’day you legends!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰 Tonight we close the chapter on Guy de Maupassant’s The Horla—a story that began with unease, spiralled into possession, and ended in fire and despair. Our poor narrator, crushed beneath the weight of an invisible parasite, finds his final act of rebellion is not survival, but destruction. And yet, the question lingers: did he truly defeat the creature, or did madness itself light the match? What makes this ending so haunting is its tragic inevitability. Maupassant, battling his own demons and hallucinations at the time, poured his unravelling mind into these pages. The Horla is both a tale of horror and a personal cry from the abyss—an author writing about possession while being devoured by his own illness. That makes the story not just scary, but heart-breaking. But as one tale closes, another door creaks open. We move now into the twisted imagination of Clark Ashton Smith—a master of the macabre, a contemporary of Lovecraft, and a poet who wielded horror like a blade. Our next descent takes us to The Nameless Offspring—a story of family curses, ancient crypts, and something unspeakable lurking in the dark vaults of inheritance. So steel yourself, dear listeners. We have left the invisible predator of The Horla… only to descend into the tomb where bloodlines curdle, and things best left buried are clawing to rise. Information about the Traditional Horla: The Creature Description: The Horla is an unseen presence—never fully visible, yet undeniably real. It lingers in rooms, shifting curtains, pressing against its victim in the night, draining vitality sip by sip. Unlike folkloric vampires, it consumes life force rather than blood, leaving its host hollowed, sleepless, and hopeless. It is described as foreign, alien, and superior—suggesting an otherworldly predator feeding on humankind like cattle. Horla's Abilities: Invisibility: Cannot be directly perceived by human eyes, only through indirect signs (shadows, disturbances, breath, water consumption). Vitality Drain: Slowly drains life energy, causing fatigue, hallucinations, paranoia, and eventual madness. Possession Influence: Compels its victim into irrational acts, bending the will until they can no longer resist. Heightened Fear: Victims report overwhelming dread and paranoia in its presence, amplifying its control. 🔮 Weaknesses Unclear Defenses: Traditional protections (holy symbols, medicine, reason) fail against it. Fire: In the tale, the victim attempts to destroy it through burning—though whether it works remains ambiguous. Awareness: Recognizing its existence is both a curse and a potential defense—those ignorant of it may fall more easily. Thank you leeegends, all of you are SPECTACULAR and thank you so much for your ongoing support 💜💜💜💜

G’day you legends! 🥰💜 Tonight, we’re not just dipping a toe into the shadows—we’re plunging headfirst into one of the most suffocating nightmares ever put to paper. Guy de Maupassant’s The Horla isn’t your average ghost story. No rattling chains, no creaky floorboards—this is the horror of being seen by something you cannot see, of feeling your very will siphoned away by a presence that never shows its face. Part 1 eases us in with diary entries—mundane, almost harmless at first. A restless night. A strange heaviness in the air. A feeling, dismissed, of being watched. But those cracks soon widen, and with every page the walls close in. The air thickens, the silence grows louder, and the terror seeps through the ordinary until you’re left wondering: have I ever truly been alone at night… or has something been quietly drinking from me all along? 🕯️ A Few Uneasy Truths About The Horla: Maupassant wrote this tale in 1887, during a time when his own mind was unravelling—he suffered terrifying hallucinations, paranoia, and eventually descended into madness. Many believe The Horla was his way of writing directly from that breaking point. The story predates Lovecraft, yet contains the very seeds of cosmic horror—an unknowable, unstoppable entity that cannot be fought, only endured. Some scholars link The Horla to the 19th-century fascination with mesmerism, hypnosis, and the fear of invisible forces controlling the body. It’s both a ghost story and a reflection of scientific dread. This is just the beginning—The Horla, Part 1. Strap yourself in, dim the lights, and remember: not all visitors knock at the door. Some… are already inside. And to my brilliant supporters—you are the torchbearers who keep this show burning in the dark. Without you, the shadows would swallow it whole. See Attached Tonights Outro Song 💜💜💜 – Your Tale Teller 🥰

Hello my wonderfully curious and wonderful listeners!!! Tonight’s episode of Stories Fables Ghostly Tales takes us deep into the echoing halls of Old Time Radio, where shadows creep, footsteps follow, and fate waits patiently at the edge of night. We begin with Creeps by Night, a haunting 1940s series that delved into the terror of the human mind. Our first tale, Walk in Darkness, drags us into a world where unseen presences haunt every step, and paranoia itself becomes the villain.... Then, in The Hunt, the primal roles of predator and prey blur into a psychological dance, proving that fear is the most relentless pursuer of all. Finally, we step into the world of Macabre (1961), short-lived but unforgettable. Its episode Final Resting Place contemplates the inevitability of death and the chilling certainty of fate, wrapping us in a grim but poetic meditation on where all journeys end. But wait—there’s more. Inspired by tonight’s stories, I’ve also crafted a brand-new original song: Shadows Never Die. It threads the footsteps of darkness, the chase of the hunt, and the weight of finality into one eerie anthem. A fusion of cinematic rock and ghostly orchestral energy, this piece is a tribute to the chilling brilliance of these old broadcasts. More about the Old Time Radio series 📻 🎙️ Creeps by Night (1944) Origin & Era: Broadcast in 1944, Creeps by Night was a Columbia Network series, airing in the U.S. during the final years of WWII. It was designed to provide listeners with chills, often exploring the darker corners of human psychology rather than relying purely on supernatural scares. Style: Unlike monster-of-the-week shows, Creeps by Night specialized in psychological suspense. Ordinary people in familiar settings would find themselves unravelling, stalked by paranoia, guilt, or invisible forces. The series played with the idea that fear doesn’t need fangs — it only needs doubt. Legacy: Sadly, the show ran only a short time (March–August 1944) and only a handful of episodes survive today. Despite that, its mix of psychological tension and Karloff’s involvement makes it a cult favourite among OTR fans. 🎙️ Macabre (1961–1962) Origin & Era: Produced by the Far East Network of the U.S. Armed Forces Radio Service, Macabre was created by servicemen stationed in Tokyo. It aired from late 1961 to early 1962, with only 8 known episodes produced. Style: True to its name, Macabre was gothic, eerie, and often philosophical in its treatment of death, fate, and horror. Unlike many American OTR shows, which leaned into either pulp scares or family-safe chills, Macabre wasn’t afraid to be morbidly poetic. It explored themes of finality, inevitability, and human weakness. Legacy: With only a half-year lifespan, it might’ve been forgotten—but its rarity and haunting scripts have given it lasting recognition among OTR collectors and horror enthusiasts. It’s often referred to as a “hidden gem” of Old Time Radio horror. As always, I want to thank our Oud Night Tea Titan, Matto Star, and our White Tea Warlords—Lezza, Mayah, and Sangeetha—for helping keep these stories alive. And all my Earl Grey Enforcers and tiers after, for your kindness and support are the lanterns that guide us through the dark. So, pour yourself a warm tea, dim the lights, and prepare yourself for three tales where suspense still lingers, decades after the mics first faded to static. Stay safe, stay curious, — The Tale Teller