Episodes

  • The Night the River Keeper Counted the Stones

    The Night the River Keeper Counted the Stones
    Jun 7 2026
    It was late October, just before the clocks fell back, when I found myself on the shoulder of a county highway in eastern Oregon, a few miles south of a town called Fossil. My car had overheated on the long stretch between Bend and nowhere, and the only light for miles came from a small clapboard house with a porch lamp burning amber. The man who answered the door introduced himself as the river keeper. He said he watched over the John Day River, that he had done it for forty-seven years, and that he kept a ledger of every stone that tumbled downstream. I thought he meant it as a metaphor. He invited me inside, and I saw the books. Stacked on shelves, floor to ceiling, each page covered in handwriting so small and precise it looked like a map of capillaries. He showed me the names. Names of people I knew. Names I had almost forgotten. Names I had never heard but recognized anyway. The river keeper told me that when a stone stops moving, the person whose name it carries dies in the night. He was not finished. He had a new entry to make, and the date was already written. It was that night's date. And the name he wrote was mine. #LighthouseLogs #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #RiverKeeper #JohnDayRiver #FossilOregon #TheLedger #October #CountyHighway #EasternOregon #Supernatural #SmallTownHorror #FolkloreHorror #AtmosphericHorror #SlowBurn #SoloNarration #Luna #Anthology Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
    Show More Show Less
    6 mins
  • The Night the Truck Stop Radio Played My Name

    The Night the Truck Stop Radio Played My Name
    Jun 6 2026
    It's 2:47 AM at the Shell station off Route 9, just outside Blackwood, Ohio. The snow is coming down sideways, the diesel pumps are frozen, and the only other soul in sight is a woman in a green coat who keeps asking for a ride to a town that doesn't exist. Luna pulls in to thaw her hands on a cup of burnt coffee, but the radio in the corner won't stop playing her name between songs. Static, then her name. Static, then her name. The cashier doesn't hear it. The woman in green knows why. A quiet, snow-bitten episode about the frequency between stations, the places that wait for people who are already lost, and the night Luna almost became someone else's signal. #ShellStation #Route9 #BlackwoodOhio #GreenCoat #RadioStatic #NHVHighway #LostTowns #3AM #WinterStorm #DieselPump #BurntCoffee #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #LighthouseLogs #SoloNarration #AtmosphericHorror #Snowbound #Unresolved Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
    Show More Show Less
    5 mins
  • The Night the Truck Stop Radio Played My Name

    The Night the Truck Stop Radio Played My Name
    Jun 5 2026
    It's December 1998, two days before Christmas, and I'm driving through the Oklahoma panhandle when the interstate goes dark. No exit lights, no headlights, nothing. I pull off at a truck stop that shouldn't be there—a place called the Dust Devil Diner, with a gas pump that reads empty but a single bulb still burning over the door. Inside, one waitress who knows my order before I speak, a jukebox that only plays songs I've heard before, and a radio behind the counter that crackles with my own name, recorded in a voice I haven't heard in years. This is a story about roads that don't connect to anything, about the places that wait for you long after you've left. Not a ghost story, not quite. More like a memory that pulled over and refused to keep driving. #DustDevilDiner #OklahomaPanhandle #TruckStopHorror #December1998 #LighthouseLogs #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #LunaReads #SoloNarrated #AtmosphericHorror #RoadHorror #Jukebox #Waitress #ChristmasEve #Interstate #RadioStatic #Memory #Unsettling Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
    Show More Show Less
    9 mins
  • The Night the Drive-In Played Only for Me

    The Night the Drive-In Played Only for Me
    Jun 4 2026
    A woman driving through the Oklahoma panhandle in late October stops at a faded drive-in movie screen glowing in the middle of nowhere. The projector runs an old black-and-white film she's never seen, but the figures on screen seem to know her. The ticket booth is empty. The concession stand lights are off. But someone—or something—is in the projection booth, and the film keeps repeating the same scene, waiting for her to get out of the car. Luna recalls a night when a roadside attraction turned into a trap made of memory and celluloid, and why she still checks her rearview mirror for a face she almost saw. #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #LighthouseLogs #DriveIn #Oklahoma #FilmHorror #RoadTrip #NightDriving #AbandonedPlaces #ProjectionBooth #BlackAndWhite #Cinema #Memory #LonelyRoad #OctoberNight #SmallTown #AnalogHorror #CreepyEncounter Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
    Show More Show Less
    8 mins
  • The Night the Desert Motel Gave Me a Key

    The Night the Desert Motel Gave Me a Key
    Jun 3 2026
    Luna pulls off Highway 95 near a dried-up town called Goodsprings at 3 a.m. The Desert Star Motel has no cars in the lot, no clerk at the desk, but a key waiting on the counter with her name on it. Room 11's light is already on. The mirror in the bathroom reflects something that doesn't move when she does. The man in the photograph above the bed wears her grandfather's face, but the picture is dated 1987—eight years before she was born. A story about the places that wait for you without meaning to, and the debt that accumulates in rooms where nobody stays. #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #LighthouseLogs #DesertStarMotel #Goodsprings #Highway95 #Room11 #Photograph #Mirror #Grandfather #EmptyMotel #Key #NevadaDesert #SmallTown #AtmosphericHorror #SlowBurn #Luna #Alone Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
    Show More Show Less
    8 mins
  • The Night the All-Night Laundry Folded My Life

    The Night the All-Night Laundry Folded My Life
    Jun 2 2026
    Luna recalls a summer in the late 90s when she worked the graveyard shift at Sparkle Wash, a rundown laundromat on the edge of a dying mill town in upstate New York. One humid August night, a woman in a damp coat brought in a single black trash bag. She never spoke. Luna helped her load a machine, and the clothes inside—wool sweaters, child's pajamas, a man's flannel—were still wet with river water. The woman watched the dryer spin for six hours, then left the bag behind. Luna opened it in the back room after closing. Inside was a high school yearbook from 1987, its pages glued together with something dark. The last page held a single photograph: the same woman, younger, standing on a bridge over the Blackwater River. Behind her, a group of children waved from the railing. The water below was perfectly still. Luna kept the yearbook. She still has it. She never found out who the woman was, or why she came back that night. But sometimes, on humid August nights, she hears the dryer running in her own basement—when she knows nothing is in it. #SparkleWashLaundromat #BlackwaterRiver #MillsburgNewYork #1987Yearbook #Late90s #GraveyardShift #UnsettlingEncounter #RiverGhosts #ChildPajamas #DampCoat #WoolSweaters #Grime #PhosphorescentBubble #LunaPersonalStory #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #LighthouseLogs #StandaloneEpisode Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
    Show More Show Less
    6 mins
  • The Night the I-10 Overpass Remembered the Dead

    The Night the I-10 Overpass Remembered the Dead
    Jun 1 2026
    February 2023. A cold rain on Interstate 10 outside Deming, New Mexico. Luna's car broke down at the base of the old Overland Park overpass — a concrete span known locally for the white crosses bolted to the railing. Thirteen crosses, one for each year a driver had died at that exact curve. But the crosses were gone the night she stopped. The railing was clean. And yet she heard the tires. Heard them hydroplaning, over and over, the same squeal of rubber on wet asphalt, the same hollow thud of metal against concrete. No cars. Just the sound of impact, repeating. And a woman in a yellow raincoat standing on the shoulder, counting. This is the story of what Luna saw beneath the overpass that night — and what she understood about the ones who stay to remember. #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #LighthouseLogs #NewMexico #Interstate10 #Deming #OverlandPark #GhostStory #RoadHorror #CarCrash #WhiteCrosses #FebruaryRain #Overpass #DeadHighway #TrafficGhosts #RecurringAccident #YellowRaincoat #CountingTheDead Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
    Show More Show Less
    8 mins
  • The Night the Crawlspace Sang Back

    The Night the Crawlspace Sang Back
    May 31 2026
    October 1998. The week I house-sat for my aunt in Iron Forge, Pennsylvania. A small town folded into the Allegheny foothills where every house has a root cellar older than the town itself. I was twenty-two and grateful for the quiet. The house sat on Ridge Road at the edge of state forest, a two-story clapboard with a porch that listed east and a furnace that clicked all night. The crawlspace was accessed through a trapdoor in the hallway linen closet. I didn't think about it until the third night. That was the night I heard the first knock. Not from the door. From below. Three taps. Slow. Deliberate. Coming from the space between the floor and the earth. This is not a story about a haunting. It is a story about what happens when something that has been waiting decides you are ready to listen. And about the things I said back to it before I understood what I was doing. #TheNightTheCrawlspaceSangBack #IronForgePA #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SoloNarrated #LighthouseLogs #CrawlspaceHorror #HouseSitting #October1998 #RootCellars #RidgeRoad #PennsylvaniaHorror #AtticAndCrawlspace #KnockingFromBelow #EchoGame #SilentDread #AtmosphericHorror #SlowBurn Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
    Show More Show Less
    7 mins