Side B — Fexingo Horror

Luna finds a thrift-store record with no label in Jal, New Mexico, late November 1998. Side A is a forgotten country song. Side B... is a woman's voice, barely there, asking for help from a basement. Each time the needle falls, the plea changes. The groove never ends. A slow-burn encounter with a voice that knows you're listening.

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A letter from the Texas Panhandle leads Luna to a Route 66 diner where the neon sign never flickers. Inside, a waitress who has been there for decades serves coffee that never cools, a clock that never ticks, and a mysterious patron who has been eating the same slice of pie since 1955. Luna tries to leave but finds the door won't open—the sign stays on because someone has to be there. What happens when the neon finally burns out? This episode is a slow-burn meditation on time, obligation, and the roadside places that refuse to close.

#SideBPodcast #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #Texas #Route66 #Groom #Diner #NeonSign #TimeLoop #AtmosphericHorror #SlowBurn #Waitress #Luna #SoloNarration #SmallTown #RoadTrip #Midnight #Loneliness

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In the ghost town of Pyote, Texas, a long-haul trucker named Grace takes a wrong turn onto a forgotten county road just after midnight in August 2005. She finds herself stopped at a railroad crossing whose gates lower and bells ring without a train in sight. Each time she tries to leave, the cycle repeats at precisely 3:33 AM. When she finally steps between the rails, she discovers the tracks are singing a pattern—and the passenger door of her rig has swung open. Luna recounts a story from a vinyl record labeled only 'Side B,' a tale of isolation, rhythm, and a figure in an old uniform who raises a hand in warning. No neat resolution, just the lingering echo of bells in the desert dark.

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Luna picks up a mysterious unmarked record from a thrift store in Tucumcari, New Mexico. The record—labeled 'Side B' in handwriting—contains the faint sound of a woman singing a lullaby, with a distinct knocking in the background. When she plays it at home, the track repeats, but each time the knocking becomes more insistent, and a whisper begins: 'Let me in.' A call to the thrift store reveals the record came from a house where a woman vanished decades ago, and her husband was found dead in a locked basement. As Luna digs deeper, the record seems to be alive, broadcasting a message from somewhere inside the walls. A slow-burn horror about trapped voices, forgotten crimes, and the things that keep playing long after they should have stopped.

#SideB #HorrorPodcast #FexingoHorror #RecordHorror #ThriftStore #Tucumcari #NewMexico #Lullaby #MissingWoman #HauntedRecord #UrbanLegend #MorseCode #SOS #Basement #EstateSale #TrueCrime #Paranormal #AudioHorror

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Luna recalls the summer of 2003 in Ballinger, Texas, when the old drive-in theater reopened for one final season. The owner, a man named Harlan, ran the projector alone under a sky full of static. People came from three counties, drawn by something in the air—a hum that wasn't from the speakers, a flicker that wasn't on the screen. Luna's cousin Maggie took her there on a Friday in August, and they watched a film that wasn't in any catalog. The reel never ended. The screen kept glowing after the projector died. In the morning, Maggie's car was still there with the engine running and the driver's door open. Luna tells what she saw that night, what she heard through the speakers, and why she hasn't been back to Ballinger since. A story about small-town longing, the ghosts we project onto blank surfaces, and the image that kept playing long after the light went out.

#FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SideB #DriveInTheater #BallingerTexas #2003 #August #CousinMaggie #Harlan #Static #Reel #Projector #ScreenNeverDark #SmallTown #SummerNight #GhostInTheMachine #UnfinishedFilm #LunaStory

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A cold November night in 1997. I was working the front desk at a motel in Dalhart, Texas, a place where the only sound after midnight is the wind. The phone rang at 3:17 AM. A woman's voice, thin and distant, asking for a room she'd stayed in ten years ago. I told her we were full—we weren't—but she insisted. She described the room perfectly: the peeling floral wallpaper, the cigarette burn on the nightstand, the crack in the bathroom mirror that looked like a lightning strike. I told her I'd check. I walked to room 14, the one she described, and found it locked from the inside. The chain was on. I stood there in the cold hallway, listening to the shower running behind the door. I never opened it. I went back to the desk and the phone was dead. The next morning, the manager told me no one had checked into room 14 in six years.

#Dalhart #Texas #Motel #PhoneCall #Room14 #NovemberNight #1997 #FrontDesk #EmptyRoom #ShowerRunning #Wind #LonelyRoad #NoOneThere #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SideB #Anthology #SoloNarrated

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August 1997. A hundred-year drought has cracked the Texas earth and drained the Brazos River to a muddy trickle. Near the town of Seymour, the old Wichita Falls Dam — decommissioned since the fifties — stands dry for the first time in living memory. A retired lineman named Hollis Purdy drives out one Sunday night to see what the receding water has uncovered. He finds a door in the concrete. Not a maintenance hatch. A proper door, with hinges and a knob, set into the downstream face of the dam where no door should be. Inside, the air is cold and moving. And something in the dark chambers beneath the reservoir has been waiting for the water to leave. This episode is a slow, quiet walk into a place that was never meant to be dry. A story about the weight of what we build to hold back — and what holds back, waiting.

#FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SideB #Luna #BrazosRiver #SeymourTexas #WichitaFallsDam #August1997 #OldDam #DoorInConcrete #RetiredLineman #DryReservoir #AirMovingUnderground #WhatWaits #SlowBurnHorror #AtmosphericHorror #SoloNarration #TexasHorror

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Somewhere between Liberal and Guymon, on a dead-straight stretch of Highway 54, there's a billboard that never goes dark. Not because the bulb is stuck. Not because the sign company forgot. Luna heard about it from a trucker named Del who drove that route every Friday at 3 a.m. for eleven years. He said the billboard used to advertise a motel that burned down in 1987. Now it just shows a woman's face. Same woman. Every night. No logo. No phone number. No address. Just her looking down at the road with something between recognition and pity. Del never stopped. But one night his rig overheated exactly under that sign. This is what he saw when he stepped out into the cold and looked up. And what the woman mouthed to him through the static of the sodium lights. Luna tells the story like a confession whispered across a diner counter at dawn—because that's exactly where she heard it.

#FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SideB #Highway54 #Billboard #TruckerStory #RuralHorror #KansasOklahoma #LunaNarrates #Anthology #AtmosphericHorror #SlowBurn #WomanInTheSign #Del #Guymon #Liberal #SodiumLights #Unsettling

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It was the hottest summer on record in the high plains of West Texas, and Luna's car died on a farm-to-market road three miles south of Lamesa. She walked to the only light for miles: a clapboard church with a single blue bulb burning over the door. Inside, a woman named Esther sat alone in the front pew, her hands folded around a cassette tape she said had been playing in her husband's truck the night he disappeared twenty years ago. She asked Luna to listen to it—just one minute, just the last minute. She said she needed someone else to hear what she heard. The tape plays. The tape doesn't stop. And the man on the tape is still asking for help as if it's happening right now, in real time, in a station wagon that never arrived home.

#WestTexas #Lamesa #Esther #stationWagon #cassetteTape #disappearance #church #blueBulb #farmToMarket #heatWave #August #emptyTank #voiceFromThePast #loop #helpMe #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SideB

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A lone lineman in the Texas Panhandle keeps hearing music in the power lines — faint melodies that shouldn't exist, played by something that knows his name. When he traces the sound to an abandoned transformer station, he finds a voice that has been waiting decades for someone to listen. Luna tells a story about isolation, transmission, and the frequency of longing.

#FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SoloNarration #TexasPanhandle #Mobeetie #PowerLines #TransformerStation #Transmission #Melody #Lineman #Isolation #Loneliness #Voice #Frequency #RuralHorror #Atmospheric #SlowBurn #SideB

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