Tales from the Cold Room — Fexingo Horror

Tales from the Cold Room — Fexingo Horror

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Tales from the Cold Room — Fexingo Horror episodes

  • The Woman at the Tollbooth

    Late October, 2019. Luna is driving the old state road past Millhaven when she stops at a lonely tollbooth under the Pendleton Overpass. The woman inside the booth doesn't blink, doesn't take her money, and speaks a phrase that doesn't belong to that night. What Luna sees in the rearview mirror stays with her long after she drives away. A story about ghosts that don't know they're dead, and the small kindnesses that keep them tethered.

    #TalesFromTheColdRoom #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #GhostStory #Tollbooth #PendletonOverpass #Millhaven #LateNightDrive #October #Uncanny #Atmospheric #SoloNarration #Luna #ListenerSupported #AdFree #BuyMeACoffee #TheWomanAtTheTollbooth #Ep86

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    7 min
  • The Night She Watched the Smoke at the Dunstan Bridge

    A woman driving home from her shift at the processing plant notices a plume of smoke rising from the old Dunstan Bridge in Dunstan, West Virginia. There's no fire, no cars, nothing. She watches it night after night, drawn to its impossible stillness. When she finally reaches out, the smoke wraps around her arm, cold as river water. She pulls back, but the smoke follows her home. It settles in her reflection. Now she sees it every time she looks in a mirror—a thin wisp behind her eyes. She doesn't know if it's still there, or if she's just watching too closely. A quiet, lingering horror about the things we can't look away from.

    #TheNightSheWatchedTheSmoke #DunstanBridge #WestVirginia #AtmosphericHorror #SlowBurn #Smoke #Reflection #SmallTown #NightDrives #Bridge #Unsettling #PsychologicalHorror #Gothic #HorrorPodcast #FexingoHorror #Podcast #HorrorStory #Luna

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    6 min
  • The Night She Watched the Gate at the Glenvale Cemetery

    Luna tells the story of Evelyn Holloway, a woman whose house bordered Glenvale Cemetery. One autumn night, Evelyn noticed the cemetery's iron gate swinging open at precisely the same hour—with no wind, no person. What began as an oddity became an obsession. She watched the gate every night, and soon the gate began to watch back. A slow-burn tale of boundary lines and what crosses them. Recorded live from the Cold Room.

    #TalesFromTheColdRoom #HorrorPodcast #FexingoHorror #TheNightSheWatchedTheGate #GlenvaleCemetery #CemeteryGate #SmallTownHorror #AutumnHorror #SlowBurnHorror #UnsettlingTale #AtmosphericHorror #SoloNarrator #LunaHorror #Obsession #Boundaries #TheGate #Creepy #NightWatching

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    6 min
  • The Bird Feeder on Buckhorn Road

    December 1998 in Cleary, West Virginia. A trailer park on Buckhorn Road. Luna's neighbor, Mrs. Haskins, loves cardinals, so she hangs a feeder by her stoop. But the birds that come at night aren't cardinals. They're black, too large, and silent. They don't eat — they watch. They count the trailers. They take notes. And when Luna sees one standing on two legs on a roof, she understands that the feeder was never about birds. It was about being seen.

    #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #TalesFromTheColdRoom #ClearyWestVirginia #BuckhornRoad #BirdFeeder #TrailerPark #WinterHorror #1998 #MrsHaskins #Cardinals #BlackBirds #TheyWatch #Midnight #SilentFlight #WindowTapping #NotBirds #StandingCreature

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    6 min
  • The Night She Watched the Clock at the Hargrove Library

    Late autumn, just before midnight, I found myself in the Hargrove Public Library. The librarian, Mrs. Alden, was locking up when she noticed I had nowhere to go. She let me stay, but warned me about the grandfather clock in the main reading room. It had kept perfect time for over a century, she said, but lately it stopped at exactly 11:11 PM every night. And when it stopped, something else started. I thought she was just a lonely old woman telling stories. Then the clock stopped. And I heard the laughter. This is the story of that night—the night I watched the clock at the Hargrove Library, and what I saw in its dark glass when time stood still.

    #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #TalesFromTheColdRoom #Luna #Anthology #HargroveLibrary #GrandfatherClock #StoppedClock #ChildrensLaughter #Autumn #Midnight #Reflection #GhostStory #SmallTown #LibraryHorror #ClockStopping #Paranormal #MrsAlden

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    6 min
  • The Night She Watched the Door at the Capitol Theatre

    Winter 1998. A Friday night. Luna is hired as a night watchman at the Capitol Theatre, a crumbling movie palace in the small town of Ridgely. Her only instruction: watch the door on the left side of the stage. Never open it. The dressing room behind it was sealed after a performer named Anna hanged herself during the final show. Luna obeys — at first. But as the hours pass, she hears a rhythmic tapping from inside. Three taps. Pause. Three taps. She sees a faint glow under the door. The knob turns an inch. She does not open it. She watches until dawn, and all that remains is an inch of darkness that follows her into sleep. A quiet, slow-burn ghost story about the things we are told not to touch — and the spaces we fill with our own dread.

    #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #TalesFromTheColdRoom #CapitolTheatre #Door #Tapping #Anna #Winter1998 #NightWatch #SealedRoom #SmallTownHorror #GhostStory #AtmosphericHorror #SoloNarration #SlowBurn #PsychologicalHorror #Watcher #Luna

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    6 min
  • The Night She Watched the Dog at the Mathers House

    November 1997. A farmhouse outside Muncie, Indiana. Luna's cousin calls her about a stray dog that has been scratching at the back door for three nights straight. It looks like a Labrador but its joints bend wrong, and it never blinks. By the fourth night, the scratching is inside the walls. A story about hunger, about the shape a voice takes when it hasn't been used in decades, and about the thing that finally answered when someone said 'here, boy' into the dark.

    #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #TalesFromTheColdRoom #Luna #SoloNarration #Anthology #Episode80 #MuncieIndiana #MathersHouse #StrayDog #FarmhouseHorror #AnimalHorror #November1997 #BackDoor #Scratching #WallHorror #VoiceInTheDark #Unblinking

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    11 min
  • The Night She Watched the Pine at the Cold Spring Rest Stop

    October 1998, a little after midnight. Luna pulls over at the Cold Spring Rest Stop off Route 9 in upstate New York, a place she has passed a hundred times without stopping. Tonight she needs a break from a long drive, and the rest stop is empty — just a cinderblock building, a vending machine buzzing in the dark, and a single pine tree at the edge of the lot. But there is a woman sitting on the bench under that pine, a woman in a long coat who does not move when Luna walks past. And when Luna looks again, the woman is gone. But the coat is still there, draped over the back of the bench, wet with something that isn't rain. Luna tells the story of what she found in the pocket of that coat, what she heard on the radio on the way out, and why she still avoids that stretch of road twenty years later.

    #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #TalesFromTheColdRoom #RestStop #Route9 #ColdSpring #UpstateNY #1998 #Midnight #PineTree #WomanInACoat #EmptyLot #VendingMachine #RadioStatic #RoadTrip #Luna #SoloNarration #AtmosphericHorror

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    6 min
  • The Night She Watched the Fire at the Gilchrist House

    Winter 1994 at the Gilchrist House, a boarded-up Victorian on the outskirts of Bellbrook, Ohio. Luna's friend Claire took a job as a fire watch on the night crew, following a string of suspicious arsons in the county. It was meant to be boring—eight hours in a folding chair, a thermos of coffee, a radio. But the fire she was supposed to watch for found her from the inside. This episode is about the smell of gasoline on a cold night. The way a locked room can get warm without a source. The voice that came through the static on channel 19, asking if she was awake. Claire stopped talking about it after she quit. But she wrote it all down first, in a notebook she left at Luna's apartment with a page torn out. Luna reads from that notebook tonight.

    #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #TalesFromTheColdRoom #Luna #AnthologyHorror #FireWatch #BellbrookOhio #GilchristHouse #Claire #Channel19 #Gasoline #Winter1994 #BoardedUpVictorian #Static #LockedRoom #QuietHorror #AtmosphericStory #SleepParalysis

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    8 min
  • The Night She Watched the Man at the Van Buren Gas Station

    On a frozen December night in 1993, Luna's car died on the shoulder of Route 9, just outside Van Buren, Missouri. She walked to a gas station — the only light for miles — where the attendant seemed to have been waiting for her. He didn't speak. He didn't blink. He just watched her from behind the register, smiling that same smile, as the clock above the cigarette rack cycled through hours she couldn't account for. Outside, the pumps ticked over without anyone touching them. This is a story about being seen when you desperately want to be alone — about the small kindnesses that feel wrong, and the wrong things that look kind. Luna tells it quiet, the way you might tell a secret you're still not sure you believe.

    #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #TalesFromTheColdRoom #VanBurenMissouri #Route9 #GasStation #1993 #December #TheAttendant #Smile #Clock #Pumps #BeingWatched #SmallTownHorror #Atmospheric #SlowBurn #SoloNarration #Luna

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    7 min

About Tales from the Cold Room — Fexingo Horror

From the publisher's feed

In the cold room, the dead are never truly gone. Luna stands in a stone cellar beneath an old house, where a brass candleholder casts shadows on walls that breathe with damp and memory. Each episode of Tales from the Cold Room is a standalone story whispered from that liminal space — not ghost stories in the traditional sense, but accounts of what lingers when the body fails and the soul refuses to leave. Here, a mortician finds a corpse whose eyes follow him. A child's voice echoes from a sealed well. A woman receives letters from her own gravestone. These are quiet horrors, intimate and slow, rooted in the ache of loss and the weight of unfinished business. Luna's voice is the only constant, a guide through doorways that should stay shut. The cold room is not a place of rest; it is a waiting room for tales that demand to be told. Each story stands alone, but together they form a mosaic of grief, memory, and the thin places where the veil frays. Enter if you dare — but know that the cold will follow you home.