Paranormal Peeps

Some houses feel alive. Ours begins on a bright corner of the French Quarter where music and laughter once slipped through open windows—and where a locked attic hid the kind of cruelty that still turns the air heavy. We follow Madame Delphine LaLaurie’s ascent through power and privilege, from celebrated socialite to a figure whose legacy is etched in screams neighbors swore they heard at night. Wealth, influence, a young physician husband, and a house she finished in her own name became the stage for what a city would uncover after a sudden blaze: seven survivors found chained and mutilated with spiked collars and wounds that seemed tended just enough to keep suffering alive.

The 1834 fire, set by a desperate cook, forced doors open and illusions shut. Witness accounts and newspaper reports documented the rescue, the fury of the crowd, and the couple’s calculated escape to Paris. From there the mansion became a vessel for memory. As a girls’ school and music conservatory, it gathered diary entries of cold hands at throats, an elegant woman vanishing on balconies, and students marked by forces no one could see. As apartments and a furniture store, it hosted a tenant who warned of a stalking demon before his unsolved murder and a shop plagued by stains that showed up like grief—foul, unexplained, and financially ruinous.

We sift fact from legend without sanding down the truth. The public record speaks: seven living victims, iron collars, chains, and a city that smashed interiors while its culprits sailed free. Later grotesque rumors may magnify the horror, but they aren’t required to understand why people still stop on the sidewalk and feel a pressure in the chest, hear a chain’s dull clink, or glimpse a shadow darker than dark. Whether you enter as a true crime devotee, a paranormal skeptic, or a New Orleans history lover, this story holds you in that narrow space where documented harm and lasting hauntings overlap.

Join us as we trace the LaLaurie Mansion through centuries of aftermath: from Leah’s tragic fall to modern renovations finding bone in brick and workers marked by three sudden scratches. Then tell us what you think: is this the most haunted house in New Orleans or a monument to trauma that refuses to fade? Subscribe, share with a friend who loves haunted history, and leave a review with the detail that unsettled you most.

Thank you for listening to the Paranormal Peeps Podcast.  Check us out on Facebook Paranormal Peeps Podcast or Coldspot Paranormal Research and on Instagram coldspot_paranormal_research

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The wind off the Red River doesn’t just howl, it tells stories. We’re in Fargo, North Dakota, digging into the haunted lore that clings to a city built on railroads, fast growth, and the parts of history people try to bury. First stop is the Hollow, Fargo’s original red light district, where Malvina Macy built the Crystal Palace and became a “well-known character” in town history. Today the building is long gone, but the reports haven’t faded: security guards describing women in long gowns who vanish, and strange small items like gloves and satin buttons found exactly where an apparition stood.

Then we step under the Art Deco marquee of the Fargo Theater, a landmark since 1926 and home to the Mighty Wurlitzer organ. The place is packed with classic haunted theater stories: the lady in white near the balcony, phantom children near the concessions, the smell of burnt sugar tied to old fire legends, and a projection booth that seems to come alive after hours. We also go beyond the scares by talking about EMF, old wiring, and the “fear cage effect,” because not every chilling feeling is a spirit.

We wrap with a crucial paranormal investigation lesson: bad sources spread fast, and misreported hauntings can become “truth” if nobody fact-checks. If you love Fargo ghost stories, haunted theaters, and practical paranormal skepticism, hit play, share this with a friend who’d brave the basement, and leave a review. And tell us, why do you think theaters are haunted?

Thank you for listening to the Paranormal Peeps Podcast.  Check us out on Facebook Paranormal Peeps Podcast or Coldspot Paranormal Research and on Instagram coldspot_paranormal_research

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What happens when a viral app asks you to think of “death,” “scared,” or “answers” and then sends you to a random point on the map? We take a clear-eyed tour through Randonautica’s strangest stories—EVPs in bright daylight, a rusted car on an ATV trail, a roadside fence lined with burnt dolls, and the headline-grabbing Seattle suitcase case—while asking whether intention steers chance or chance fills in our intentions.

We break down what the app claims to do, how users set intentions, and why vague prompts can turn ordinary spaces into ominous ones. You’ll hear how urban explorers landed at an abandoned house and met the police, why a couple’s “scared” prompt ended with a white Mustang following them, and how a simple word like “orange” pointed to traffic cones. Along the way, we separate plausible coincidences from obvious fakes, explore how social media rewards the most extreme narratives, and consider the psychology that makes pattern recognition feel supernatural when fear is high and expectations are set.

This isn’t just a reel of shock stories. We talk risk, ethics, and practical safety: go in daylight, bring friends, avoid private property, and choose neutral or positive intentions if you’re going to try it at all. Curiosity has value, but it also needs boundaries—especially when “random” routes can drop you into real danger or legal trouble. If you’ve ever wondered whether an app can bend fate, or whether we’re just very good at finding meaning in the margins, this conversation will give you a grounded framework to think about both.

If you enjoy thoughtful, spooky explorations with real-world takeaways, follow the show, share this episode with a curious friend, and leave a review to tell us what intention you’d set next. Stay ghosty, my peeps!

Thank you for listening to the Paranormal Peeps Podcast.  Check us out on Facebook Paranormal Peeps Podcast or Coldspot Paranormal Research and on Instagram coldspot_paranormal_research

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A rail town bar with a brothel upstairs. A mob-friendly speakeasy with a basement meant for settling scores. A fire that nearly erased it all—and a renovation that seemed to wake the house. We head to the Old Baraboo Inn in Wisconsin to pull the thread on a history that refuses to fade and the hauntings that line up a little too neatly with the past.

We start with the Inn’s origins and its connection to Chicago via the rail line, then move into the Prohibition years: poker downstairs, liquor flowing, enforcers on duty, and an execution pole that still bears scars. From there, we follow the 1988 blaze, the decade of silence, and BC Farr’s painstaking rebuild that reopened the doors in 2002 and, by many accounts, stirred the spirits. Along the way, we hear about Mary—the saloon dancer—seen twirling by the jukebox, the knock-and-pace presence in the upstairs hall, and a basement entity that shows preference with the walk-in cooler door.

The stories are specific: cigar smoke with no source, a barstool flipping, batteries draining, a sudden cold hand to the leg. We interrogate claims of an EVP from Al Capone and the ethical puzzle of alleged child spirits, asking whether some presences borrow familiar forms to lower our guard. Throughout, we balance history with investigation, weighing what can be verified against what simply fits the building’s lived habits. No grand answers, no experts—just careful curiosity, grounded context, and a willingness to leave space for the unknown.

If you’re drawn to haunted bars, mob history, and the strange ways places remember, this one belongs on your list. Listen, share with a friend who loves ghost stories and true crime, and tell us your take: what lingers at the Old Baraboo Inn? Subscribe for more deep dives and leave a review to help us reach curious minds like yours.

Thank you for listening to the Paranormal Peeps Podcast.  Check us out on Facebook Paranormal Peeps Podcast or Coldspot Paranormal Research and on Instagram coldspot_paranormal_research

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Ever notice how one date can hijack your imagination? We’re pulling the mask off Friday the 13th and following its trail from medieval warnings and biblical symbolism to stock market lore, slasher-era storytelling, and the everyday rituals people still swear by. With a mix of history, myth, and measurable facts, we test whether the world is truly more dangerous on this date—or whether our brains are simply better at remembering the hits than the misses.

We start with the building blocks: why Fridays got a bad rap in old travel tales, how thirteen at a table became a cultural red flag, and when the pairing of Friday and the 13th actually entered print. From there, we track the modern engines of superstition. A 1907 Wall Street novel turned fear into a financial plot. Decades later, a film franchise transformed a day on the calendar into a cinematic shorthand for danger, priming generations to expect jump scares in real life. Expectation shapes perception; once you’re on alert, every black cat and creaky stair reads like a sign.

But stories don’t stand alone. We walk through famous events pinned to the date—Templar arrests, crashes in the Andes and Moscow, an eerie lightning strike at 13:13, a brutal market drop, Buffalo’s freak October snow, and the Costa Concordia disaster—then test them against base rates and bias. Some studies hint at higher incident rates, others don’t; what’s consistent is our selective attention. Even the economy reacts, with estimates of hundreds of millions lost as people skip flights and delay plans. Fear has a footprint, and it shows up in both memory and money.

So what do we do with a day like this? We suggest a reset: treat Friday the 13th as a live experiment in critical thinking and community. Keep the fun rituals if they calm your nerves, but pair them with better questions, clearer data, and shared stories that reclaim the narrative. With two Friday the 13ths in 2026 and the close pass of asteroid Apophis in 2029, curiosity beats dread every time. If our choices write the ending, let’s make it a good one.

Enjoy the ride? Follow the show, share this episode with a friend who loves spooky history, and leave a quick review telling us your best Friday the 13th superstition or story.

Thank you for listening to the Paranormal Peeps Podcast.  Check us out on Facebook Paranormal Peeps Podcast or Coldspot Paranormal Research and on Instagram coldspot_paranormal_research

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A drowned town, unmarked graves, and a lake that keeps pulling people under—Lake Lanier is more than a popular getaway. We dig into the 1912 murder of May Crow, the racial terror that emptied Oscarville, and the federal project that flooded homes, barns, bridges, and church pews while leaving countless unmarked graves behind. That buried history shapes everything that comes next: a staggering number of deaths, vanishings that defy common sense, and legends like the Lady in Blue seen on the bridge before stepping into the water without a sound.

We balance hard hazards with hard-to-shake stories. Think zero visibility, cold shock, and an “underwater forest” that can trap even pros—alongside diver reports of warm, grasping hands in the silt and sonar scans that map upright, human-shaped figures where Oscarville’s streets once ran. Add in campsite encounters—tents shaken at 3 a.m., blue mist gliding ashore, batteries drained to zero—and the picture turns visceral. Whether residual energy replaying the past or intelligent presences reacting to us now, the throughline is the same: places remember, and Lake Lanier remembers a lot.

You’ll hear how side imaging sonar cuts through the murk to reveal submerged structures and uncanny silhouettes, why campers report footsteps circling for hours, and how trauma, geology, and water can amplify paranormal activity. We don’t ask you to choose between curse and physics; we lay out both and let you decide how you’d approach the shoreline. If you’ve boated, swum, dived, or camped at Lanier, we want your stories. Subscribe, share this episode with a friend, and leave a review telling us: would you spend a night on that shore—or keep driving?

Thank you for listening to the Paranormal Peeps Podcast.  Check us out on Facebook Paranormal Peeps Podcast or Coldspot Paranormal Research and on Instagram coldspot_paranormal_research

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Ready for a season that actually hits the road? We’re opening Season Six with a plan that’s equal parts ambitious and grounded: Waverly Hills is booked, and six more investigations are mapped across a multi-state route designed to bring you new stories, new evidence, and a few legendary locations with fresh eyes. After a year packed with real-life detours, we’re back with a tighter strategy, better pacing, and a promise to share the journey as it unfolds.

We walk through what makes Waverly Hills so compelling—the scale, the history, and the fifth floor where we captured our longest EVP to date—and how we’ll structure sessions to take advantage of long sightlines and quiet pockets. Then we widen the lens: Villisca Axe Murder House for true-crime intensity, the Squirrel Cage Jail for rotary-cell weirdness, Post-Town Elementary for documented activity and overnight experiments, plus the Gill House, the Bihl (Beal) Manor, and Loveland Castle to round out a lineup that blends famous haunts with under-the-radar gems. Each stop gives us a different acoustic profile, layout, and historical context, and we’re leaning into that variety to compare what “evidence” looks and sounds like across spaces.

Along the way, we revisit favorite moments that shaped our approach: footsteps pacing the Washoe Club hallway, pranks and sudden chills at the Stanley, and the simple truth that good energy often yields clearer EVPs. Our best captures rarely happen when we’re stiffly interrogating the room; they happen when we’re present, laughing, and paying attention. That mindset drives our road plan, our gear choices, and how we’ll share updates—expect candid check-ins, behind-the-scenes clips, and a push for more YouTube content to bring you inside the investigation.

If you love haunted history, field-tested methods, and a team that balances rigor with ridiculous laughter, you’ll fit right in. Tap play, ride shotgun on the road trip, and tell us where you want us to investigate next. Subscribe, leave a review, and share this with a friend who believes good energy attracts great evidence.

Thank you for listening to the Paranormal Peeps Podcast.  Check us out on Facebook Paranormal Peeps Podcast or Coldspot Paranormal Research and on Instagram coldspot_paranormal_research

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A basement fire, a desperate escape, and a suitcase full of contradictions turned the Hotel Congress into one of the Southwest’s most enduring ghost stories. We head to downtown Tucson to unravel how a 1918 rail-side hotel became ground zero for Dillinger’s capture and a century of spectral lore, then walk room by room through the encounters that keep investigators coming back.

We start with the history: Congress Street’s expansion, the Southern Pacific station, and the 1934 blaze that raced upward to the gang’s hideout. From there, we sift through the strangest details in the recovered luggage—Tommy guns, body armor, cash, gold coins, and whispers of a glass eyeball and a skeletal hand—and how those artifacts shaped decades of first-hand claims from staff and guests. The building’s restoration, landmark status, and still-working switchboard frame a space where time hasn’t fully moved on.

Then we dig into the hauntings with care. Room 242 carries the weight of a life cut short, with reports of a woman in white who sits at the bed or curls close in quiet grief. Room 220 is lighter, marked by a World War II veteran’s routine and the playful reappearance of butter knives left in impossible places. Room 214 hosts a dapper figure in seersucker and hat, often seen at the window of an unrented room, while 212 delivers pure anxiety: locks clicking, doors opening, and a ghostly “apprentice” practicing the craft of intrusion. Under the sidewalks, sealed tunnels with old glass lenses echo a harsher past—Chinese labor routes, smugglers, and disappearances—that anchor the hotel’s stories in Tucson’s wider underground.

If you love haunted hotels, true crime legends, and the way residual energy loops through old routines, this tour of the Hotel Congress is your next deep dive. We share what to watch for, how to plan a multi-room investigation, and where to extend your trip—Tombstone, Bisbee, and beyond—for a full Southern Arizona paranormal circuit. Subscribe, share with a fellow ghost nerd, and leave a review telling us which room you’d dare to spend the night in.

We apologize for the echo and technical difficulties.

Thank you for listening to the Paranormal Peeps Podcast.  Check us out on Facebook Paranormal Peeps Podcast or Coldspot Paranormal Research and on Instagram coldspot_paranormal_research

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The quiet streets of Baraboo hide a thundering past. We head straight into Circus City’s living history—where the Ringling Brothers built their empire—and follow a single case that starts with an old house, a fallen barn, and a family desperate for sleep, then spirals into one of the strangest hauntings we’ve explored. When sledgehammer blows rattle the walls, a window bursts without warning, and a goldfish bowl hits the floor with no water and no fish, a no-nonsense police chief and three deputies step in. What they witness—clean snow, no footprints, and a Buick sedan dragged uphill with its wheels locked—turns a simple vandalism call into a mystery of weight, force, and a presence that refuses to be seen.

We connect the dots the way a good investigator would: biography, materials, and place. Rose Holliday’s late husband trained elephants for the circus. The house on 8th Street? Built from reclaimed lumber taken from a Ringling elephant-training barn that once held 24 giants. Suddenly the reports make a different kind of sense. The “dog-shaped” shadow children feared, the barn collapse, the house-quaking booms—these aren’t parlor tricks. They feel like boundaries enforced by something that knows its size and space. Whether you land on intelligent haunting, place memory, or an extraordinary string of coincidences, the story forces a new respect for how history embeds in wood, earth, and routine.

Along the way, we revisit how the Ringling Brothers rose from a one-ring show to a national force, how circus territory agreements shaped entertainment, and why Baraboo’s winter quarters mattered. We consider the ethics of spectacle, the emotional residue of training, and what happens when you build a home from timbers that learned the rhythms of command, fear, and applause. The result is part ghost story, part cultural archaeology, and entirely unforgettable.

If this kind of deep-dive haunt keeps you curious, tap follow, share the episode with a friend who loves strange history, and leave a review with your best theory—intelligent haunting, residual echo, or something wilder?

Apologies for echo and technical difficulties.

Thank you for listening to the Paranormal Peeps Podcast.  Check us out on Facebook Paranormal Peeps Podcast or Coldspot Paranormal Research and on Instagram coldspot_paranormal_research

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A modest council house on Green Street shouldn’t turn into a stage for flying toys, hot marbles, and a chair that slides on command—but that’s where our night begins. We pull apart the Enfield Haunting with a clear lens: not just what was claimed, but who saw what, when, and how the story held together across months of pressure, fatigue, and scrutiny. From neighbors who fled next door, to a police constable who watched a chair move, to a photographer who took a Lego to the eyebrow, the details pile up—and so do the questions.

We walk through the turning points: the Society for Psychical Research arriving with Maurice Grosse and later Guy Playfair; strange interference that kills video yet allows photos; knocks that track movement; marbles that land hot and refuse to bounce; a child at the center of the storm. Then the voice arrives—deep, gravelly, and eerily specific—identifying itself as “Bill,” later matching a former occupant’s death. Doctors argue false vocal folds; tests with taped lips and water complicate the easy answers. Some moments can be staged; the girls admit the pressure to perform. But other moments—curtains twisting like hands, stones manifesting in the garden, the medium’s cleanse coinciding with a slow fade—refuse to be filed away as tricks.

Rather than force a verdict, we explore three frames: a human spirit with unusual ability, a layered haunting where something non-human rides the chaos, and a psychosocial amplifier centered around a bright, stressed child on the edge of puberty. The label “poltergeist” starts to feel less like a species and more like a weather pattern: conditions where a house becomes conductive, technology misbehaves, and people of all stripes witness things they can’t quickly explain.

If you enjoy careful, grounded storytelling about the paranormal—sourced, skeptical, and still open to wonder—this one’s for you. Hit follow, share with a friend, and tell us: which single detail would make you a believer?

Thank you for listening to the Paranormal Peeps Podcast.  Check us out on Facebook Paranormal Peeps Podcast or Coldspot Paranormal Research and on Instagram coldspot_paranormal_research

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