Plague Doctor's Round — Fexingo Horror

It was the last week of October, 1989, when the night clerk at the Twin Pines Gas Station off Route 9 in Coldwater, Ohio stopped showing up for his shifts. The owner, a man named Harlan Peevey, asked around town but nobody knew where the kid had gone. So Harlan covered the graveyard shift himself for three nights, and on the third night he saw something that made him sell the station at a loss and move to Florida within the month. I heard the story from Harlan's nephew, who was helping him pack the U-Haul. He said his uncle kept muttering about the lights — how they wouldn't stay off no matter how many breakers he flipped. And about the woman in the blue dress who stood at the pumps in the small hours, asking for a fill-up she never needed.

#TwinPinesGasStation #ColdwaterOhio #Route9 #HarlanPeevey #NightClerk #GraveyardShift #TheWomanInBlue #PhantomCustomer #LightsWontTurnOff #SmallTownHorror #GasStationGhost #OhioHorror #1989 #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #AnthologyHorror #ParanormalEncounter #LunaNarrates

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December 1987. A temporary night nurse takes a two-week assignment at Whittaker Hollow Rest Home, a county facility tucked into the hills of southern Ohio. The home is quiet, underfunded, and mostly forgotten — just twenty-three beds, a staff of four, and a hallway light that hums at a frequency that sits wrong in the teeth. On her third night, she notices that one of the long-term residents, a woman named Esther Prowse who hasn't spoken in eleven years, begins to stir at exactly 3:14 a.m. — not waking, not sleeping, but something in between. A low sound comes from her room, not quite a voice. The nurse checks the logbook and finds a pattern of entries from previous night shifts, all at the same minute, all crossed out. The administrator tells her not to open Room 12 after midnight. Of course she does. This is a story about the shape of a duty of care, about what it means to be the only person listening, and about the thing that was waiting in the dark of a county rest home for someone to finally answer.

#WhittakerHollow #EstherProwse #HotelOhio #CareHomeHorror #NightShift #December1987 #TheOldOnes #Room12 #CountyRestHome #UnspokenPatient #NightStories #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SoloNarration #PlagueDoctorsRound #WitnessHorror #SmallTownOhio #ApothecaryLamp

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A trucker’s regular stop at a lonely diner off the interstate turns strange when he notices the waitress never seems to leave. Night after night, same booth, same coffee order, same flickering fluorescent lights. The cook says she’s been there longer than anyone remembers. But it’s the thing she keeps in the back—behind the swinging doors, past the walk-in cooler—that finally makes him take the long way home. Told with the hushed, worn-out intimacy of someone who heard this story from a man named Ray at a gas station somewhere in Ohio. No blood. No screams. Just a cup of coffee gone cold and a door that should have stayed shut.

#FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #PlagueDoctorsRound #DinerHorror #OldHollowRoad #Waitress #TruckerStory #SlowBurn #AtmosphericHorror #MidnightShift #BodyHorror #CreepyWaitress #NoExit #Unsettling #CoffeeAndDread #LonelyRoad #SmallTownMystery #Stuck

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February 1987. A traveling salesman checks into the Green Gables Hotel outside Eureka Springs, Arkansas, during a freak ice storm. The third floor has been closed for years — water damage, they say — but the elevator still stops there, and the bell still rings in room 312. The man who tends the front desk has a tremor in his hands and a story he won't finish. Luna pieces together what happened to a family who never checked out, and why the hotel keeps a ledger with names crossed out in black ink. A quiet, slow-burn episode about what lodges in a place and refuses to leave. Not a ghost story, exactly — more like a bruise that never heals.

#GreenGablesHotel #EurekaSprings #Arkansas #IceStorm #Room312 #FrontDesk #ThirdFloor #TravelingSalesman #Family #Ledger #BlackInk #Lingering #SlowBurn #AtmosphericHorror #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SoloNarration #PlagueDoctorsRound

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June 2019. The boiler room of Larkspur Apartments, a crumbling complex on the edge of Denton, Missouri. Luna's friend Margie calls her in the middle of the night, whispering that the furnace man is back — the one who isn't a man at all. He tends the fire in the subbasement, and no one can remember who hired him. Luna drives over and spends the night watching the basement door with Margie, listening to the boiler groan. By morning, the furnace man is gone, but the heat never left. A story about the kind of tenant you don't report to the landlord — because the landlord might not know he exists.

#FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #PlagueDoctorsRound #TheFurnaceMan #LarkspurApartments #DentonMissouri #BoilerRoom #Subbasement #Margie #TenantHorror #ApartmentHorror #Furnace #NightShift #CreakingPipes #UnseenTenant #FoundFootage #AtmosphericHorror #SlowBurn

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In the summer of 1987, a teenager named Jess is sent to stay with her aunt in the dying town of Farlow, Kentucky. The old county road is being repaved after a sinkhole swallows a pickup truck, but what the road crew unearths is not limestone or clay. It is something that breathes, something that has been waiting under the gravel for a long time. Jess begins to dream of a hand reaching up through the ground, and she finds that the new pavement feels warm under her feet even at midnight. When she goes to look at the repair site, the foreman tells her to stay away, but the dreams get worse. This is a story about what happens when a town paves over a wound instead of letting it heal. About the sound of gravel shifting in the dark. About what it means when the road starts to move under your feet.

#FarlowKentucky #OldFarlowRoad #Sinkhole #Gravel #RoadRepair #Summer1987 #Dreams #HandUnderTheGround #WarmPavement #RoadCrew #AuntJosephine #Jess #SmallTownHorror #BuriedThing #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #PlagueDoctorsRound #SoloNarration

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October 1987. The annual Harvest Moon Dance at Pikeville Community Hall. A town tradition older than anyone can remember. But this year, a stranger arrives uninvited—a quiet woman in a white dress who does not dance, does not speak, and seems to know everyone's name. By midnight, she has chosen a partner. By morning, that partner is gone. Luna pieces together the story from the whispers that followed: the dance card found on the floor, the name written in ink that turned to rust, and the photograph from 1917 that no one in Pikeville wants to talk about. A story about a dance that never stops, a partner who never leaves, and the empty chair at the breakfast table.

#HarvestMoonDance #Pikeville #CommunityHall #WhiteDress #October1987 #DanceCard #Ghost #SmallTown #MissingPerson #RustInk #OldPhotograph #PikevilleMystery #UninvitedGuest #Grief #AtmosphericHorror #QuietTerror #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast

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I remember the first time I crossed the Porters Ford Bridge after dark. It was early autumn, 2019—the kind of warm September night where the crickets sound like static and the air smells of dry corn and diesel. The bridge was just a single-lane iron truss over the Roanoke River, built in 1927, with a wooden deck that rattled under your tires. But that night, something was wrong. There was a figure at the far end, not quite solid, holding up a hand like a crossing guard. And when I stopped—because you always stop, don't you?—I saw the toll basket. A rusted metal bucket, chained to the guardrail, filled with silver coins and a single folded note. The note said, 'For those who cross between light and dark. The keeper must be paid.' I didn't pay. I thought it was a prank. I drove on. But the bridge didn't let me go. Not really. Not ever.

#PortersFord #RoanokeRiver #TheKeeper #TollBridge #IronTruss #SeptemberNight #Cryptid #PodcastHorror #SouthernGothic #RuralHorror #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #Anthology #PlagueDoctorsRound #LunaReads #AppalachianHorror #GhostStory #TheToll

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In the autumn of 1997, a county surveyor named Owen Teague drove a stretch of rural Missouri road that didn't exist on any map. He found a town called Beechwood that had been erased from records since 1887. The people there were polite, hollow-eyed, and all wore clothes a century out of fashion. They invited him to the Harvest Social. He stayed three days. When he came back, he couldn't stop measuring things—roads, rooms, his own body. He said the town had given him a task. This is his story, as he told it to me one night in a motel room in Rolla, Missouri, while he kept checking the distance between the bed and the door.

#FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #PlagueDoctorsRound #AnthologyHorror #MissouriHorror #RoadHorror #LostTown #Surveyor #Beechwood #HarvestSocial #VanishingTown #AutumnHorror #Measurement #OwenTeague #CountyRoad17 #FolkHorror #UncannyValley #PodcastHorror

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December 24th, 1987. A blizzard traps a librarian and a stray cat inside the Carnegie library on Main Street, Oakdale. At first it's a quiet, almost cozy night—sheltering from the storm, a gas heater, an old radio playing carols. But the library has a basement. And in that basement, a door that was never supposed to be opened. By midnight, the cat is hissing at the dark. By three a.m., the librarian is whispering prayers she hasn't said since childhood. The storm doesn't let up until dawn. And by then, something else has been unlocked. Based on a real account from a retired librarian in Oakdale, Wisconsin. Luna tells the story as it was told to her: slow, small, and absolutely certain.

#FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #PlagueDoctorsRound #ChristmasEve #LibraryHorror #Blizzard #Oakdale #CarnegieLibrary #BasementDoor #StrayCat #WhisperedPrayers #SmallTown #WinterHorror #Unlocked #Librarian #Darkness #1987 #TrueAccount

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