Episode 437: Listener Tales 70

Hey weirdos, I'm Alaina and I'm Ash, and this is morbid.

Did you, did you see? Did you hear that? We were not who we said we were? Because everyone always says we sound exactly alike. I don't think we do, but I think that's a nice compliment because I don't prefer my voice, I don't either, I prefer yours.

I prefer yours. Well, look at that holy shit. Should we freaky Friday and exchange lives? Yeah.

Well, as you can tell by the moods here on this episode today, it is a listener tale which is brought to you by euphoria for me when all about you.

We're not on drugs. I swear you sounded like Blue from Blue's Clues.

I was magenta, I love that. Yeah, I was magenta, get it.

Like, you were blue and I was magenta. Hell yeah, you know, hell yeah, yeah.

Yeah, you know, it's funny. I've moved from blue to Bluey. Oh, you know, Bluey's my girl. Oh Bluey is everybody's girl.

Yeah, bandit my guy, chilly my girl. Well, I think bingo, pretty all right, pretty all right.

I'm just kidding, Oh my God, I love bingo. I know I'm not going to slander bingo on this. Don't you worry about it?

No, don't, no, don't come for me. I love bingo, bingo, bingo.

Guys, Bluey is the best, The Rain episode is my favorite one, it's so soothing. I sometimes want to watch it when I'm home by myself and I don't have your kids with me. But then I feel really fucking weird about watching Bluey by myself. You know how many people watch Bluey without their kids?

Yeah, but they have kids, that's the whole, that's the start of the recipe is children. There's been a time where John and I were sitting at night after the kids went to sleep. And John said, You want to watch an episode of Bluey? And I said, Yeah.

And then we did That's pretty iconic, and we watched a few and then we were like, Wow, off to bed, we go off to bed.

Yeah, I don't know if I could convince Drew to do that. Drew recently told me that he doesn't like scripted shows, he only wants to watch reality television. What a declaration.

And I said, You know, that's why I'm marrying you, right? Yeah, like, I like a scripted show personally, but I really love reality television, and I really got him to love reality television. Apparently. you erased scripted television for him, apparently.

Well, he also really liked drag Race, which is, um, not scripted. So yeah, it's reality, it's reality, reality. I'm trying to get on that show.

Have I told you that drag race? Yeah, I want to be a guest judge, you should be a guest judge.

I'm just saying it out loud because I'd like to manifest it. And I would like all of you to reach out to the production team and tell them that I should get to go use it. Be a guest judge, Do you want to come with me?

Oh, hell yeah, I would have to bring Drew, too. So say, like, Drew, Ash and Elena from more than all three of them here, let me type out your email for you, yeah.

Just say it like this to whom it may concern, at least get Ash on there, Ash needs to be on there and Drew.

Cause it's just necessary. Yeah, I know I want him so bad. Like I will go if I'm able to go, but like, if if we got to make cuts, you can, I'll, I'll be cut.

Imagine meeting That's so nice. thank you. Imagine meeting Michelle visage in the fucking flesh? No, I can't imagine that.

I would ship a dick. I literally can't imagine that, rue.

That's what I would do. No, I would, I would definitely pull a Um. Like when I met Andrew McMahon from Jack's Mannequin and I just went, I love you, I love that. I would write it to Rue, and then Rue would say I could picture it, I think Rue would just lol at me.

That's exactly what Rue would do. Well, anyways, it's not about me, it's about you, it's about listenertales. But are you guys also excited for, uh, the new podcast on The Morbid Network?

I was like the new podcast, I was like the new podcast, and then you said, on the morbid network, not ours, um, yeah, we are having a new podcast.

Join our little fucking family and it's called That was pretty scary. And it has Freddie Prince, but Prince. I can't even speak. Freddie Prince Jr. and John Lee Brody, two of the coolest fucking humans to exist in this world.

Literally two of the nicest humans we've ever met. I'm telling you they're so sweet, so hilarious, and this podcast is going to be so much fun. Oh my god.

They announced it last night and I was very excited about it. Yeah, we got to listen to the first episode already. And you guys are going to shit your dicks. When you hear it, it's, you know? And I saw Sarah Michelle Gellar post about it and I said, Whoa, teenage Elena, you could not conceive of a world where this is the reality of the situation. No way. And right after this, I was just chit chatting with Doug Doug Bradley and his wife on Instagram.

I don't know what life is right now, but I am loving this simulation. You're a really good manifester, I manifested the shit out of that. The aliens are getting you in a happy, happy state, so that you're a little easier to take away. Honestly, that's fine.

Cause, you know, I'm here, I'm happy, I'm living here and happy.

Talking to people that I dig, I know I'm so excited for. That was pretty scary. Such a fucking cool, exciting new show.

Yeah, it's a cool concept, you guys are going to love it. Yeah, so it's coming out in March, so be on the lookout.

Be on the lookout. And I don't really know when this episode is coming out. To be honest with you, I have no idea, but next week you should definitely come to Obituaries live show with us. It's going to be in Somerville.

A bunch of us from the Morbid network are going to support our brother and sister. I will spend some madison, madison.

That's my love language, that's it just like yelling. So yeah, if you haven't got your tickets, go get them, go get them.

If you haven't got your tickets, go get them, they're selling fast. She just was staring into my soul as she did that, and I was like, I don't know what to do here, I don't know where this is going.

You looked really uncomfortable. I just said, Ah, inside, but you know what? We, I think we got all the Biznass out of the way, Biznass.

We're only six minutes in, we're doing good, we're doing good. Let's get to the tales that are sent to us by listeners. This one features Krav Maga.

Well, yeah, it does. I'm going to need you to vamp for a little bit, though I can vamp for a second. Guys, you know what happened here? I'll tell you a little story.

I saw a picture of Doug Bradley wearing a ghost shirt. That's how this happened today. And I said, Whoa? And I posted it. And then the message. Or, Um, Steph, his wife messaged, and was like, Hey yo, we love ghosts and we're friends with Tobias.

And I said, Oh my God, could the world get any sweeter right now? And it couldn't. So there's that. Well, that was the perfect amount of time to tell that story and for me to get this into a double space thing where I can read it.

Cause I'm blind, all right. I don't know if I can say this person's name. So I'm just going to start out with their tale, which is entitled Listener Tale. My Mom beat up a Serial rapist, Your mom's a badass.

That got our attention. Yeah, it did all right, it says. Hi, I'm a big fan of true crime and I love listening to your podcast, so thanks for all the wild stories.

You're welcome, you're welcome, and thank you for listening to our podcast on a Saturday morning in 2008. My mom, her partner. I'm going to call him D, because I'm not sure if he wants me to share his name. And I were sitting in the kitchen making coffee. I was seven at the time and we were waiting for a friend of my mom's who was bringing her son over to have a playdate with me.

Since we were expecting them any minute, my mom had left the front door wide open and just told them to come in when they arrived. As she was waiting for the coffee to be ready. We all heard a noise in the next room and my mom got up to see if it was our friends. A second later, we heard her scream.

D got up to see what was wrong and I followed him. We walked into the living room and saw a man in a ski mask with one arm around my mom and a gun to her head. And this is just a Saturday morning, this is a morning.

They were just like, he told me, indeed, a lay down on the ground, face down, and then made my mom find something to cover us. Oh my God, she pointed to a laundry basket with a sheet inside and right before covering both of us. He told me that if I made a sound, he would kill my mom, Oh my God.

And you're seven, Oh my god, oh. Then he told her he would shoot me and her partner if she didn't do what he said. After that. I couldn't see what was happening, but I could hear the conversation.

My mom reflexively started talking nonstop, asking him what he wanted. She said that we didn't have any cash in the house. But if he wanted money, he could take her ATM card and take out as much cash as he needed. She even suggested that he should look in my room, since I had a couple of piggy banks full of coins. This is destroying my soul. I want this man to get the shit kicked out of him.

Within an inch of his life. Yeah, I'm so angry right now. What the hell, this is insane.

I remember my dumb seven-year-old self being a little annoyed that she was volunteering my precious piggy banks to this man without even asking me. But then the intruder got angry, hit my mom in the head with a gun and pulled her into my bedroom, which was across a small hallway from the room that we were in. He pushed her against the wall, Oh, my God, and pulled off her pants.

Oh my god. My mom said that. Although she was facing the wall, she sensed him momentarily put his gun down as he reached to unbutton his own pants. This is when her bad-ass mama instincts kicked in, and she knew that it was her moment to get away and save us. My mom being a bad bitch and trained in krav, MAGA and self-defense, kicked behind her and smashed in his kneecap so he could. Hell yeah, so he fell down and could not get up. Help.

I fell in and I could not get up. Don't help him, don't help. She then ran out of my bedroom and slammed the door behind her and held the door shut with both hands. And her body, and her whole body weight, while screaming to her partner to take me and run for your life, God, he was going to do this in a seven-year-old child's bedroom with her in the morning.

Like, who the fuck is this piece of shit? Hopefully he gets caught, I hope he's dead. Oh my God, Jesus Christ.

He picked me up and ran out the back door of the house, screaming, Call the police and didn't put me down until we reached the gate. My mom stayed in the house, holding the bedroom door shut until she knew we'd made it out safely. I kept looking back at the back door and it was a really scary moment because I wasn't sure if I would see my mom again. Until a few seconds later, she ran out of the house in her nightgown. I stood in place wanting to wait for her, but she screamed at me to keep going. So I turned around and I ran faster than I've ever ran before.

She caught up. We all kept running and halfway down the block, we ran into our friend's house, who were casually strolling toward our house for a Saturday morning play date and breakfast. Imagine their shock when they realized that we were running away from an armed intruder. They turned around and we all booked it to the nearby grocery store, where we were met by the police. They drove us back to our house in the back of a police car, but by the time we got there, the attacker was gone.

There were cops in the house for the rest of the day, dusting for fingerprints and gathering evidence. They asked the same questions over and over, and over again to me, my mom and D, and they took me to a child psychologist to be interviewed again. My mom was called in for a few lineups, but not able to identify him because he'd been wearing a ski mask. They never found him. And it has remained unsolved.

Are you kidding me? I'm so angry for your entire family, like I'm raging just the invasion, that that is alone. And then, like, having to go to like that little, like little, you having to go to sleep in your bedroom, where that monstrosity almost occurred.

And it's like, this person is a fucking monster. He walked into a house on a Saturday morning and tried to rape a woman in her seven year old daughter's room. After telling the seven year old, I'll kill your mom if you make a sound, he's a fucking monster, I'm so angry.

I hope he is dead a hundred percent. oh my God, in prison, I hope.

Oh, oh, my god. Since then, my mom and I have always referred to the attacker as the guy whenever we talk about it. I wrote this story down a while back, planning on sending it in, but I ended up getting busy and forgetting to send it in. But I'm so glad I didn't now because now I have a plot twist. Wait. The attack happened in 2008, and it was a cold case until in 2016,.

The guy was pulled over for a traffic violation, and when the police took his fingerprints, they found that they were already in. The motherfucking system. I added the motherfucking fast forward to a few weeks ago. It's May of 2022 now. The guy confessed and was convicted of a series of rapes within the same month in 2008, in the same neighborhood with a very similar MO piece of shit. Another crazy detail we found out is that this man is currently.

30 years old, holy shit, which means he was only 16 at the time of the attack. My God, it blows my mind to think of a literal child committing all of these horrible crimes. He's sentenced to 24 24 years in prison now, after getting away with it for almost a decade. He should be in there for longer. Yeah, he should. So that's my story about my family's run in with a teenage rapist.

And, most of all, my mom being a powerful, amazing, bad bitch that is not to be fucked with. BS Thanks for reading, Oh my Goddess, I, your mom is my Goddess.

I was going to say, that is, that is my goddess, oh my god. The fact that it like the plot twist I was so excited for that had me woo.

Yeah, for real, the adrenaline. Oh, I am so happy, I'm just so happy.

I am, too. I'm so happy. I'm so sorry that your family had that experience in your fucking home. In the trauma all of you must have, like the the aftermath of that, must've been so hard for you all.

You probably still deal with that. I am so sorry. You're poor, poor. You like Jesus, like, Oh, my God, and then your parents like your mom.

Yeah, like, I would be I, I, I swear, I'd be like, standing guard every night, I'd be like, so scared. Well, and that's like, I mean, that's a horrible position to be in, because duh.

But also, like, you're worried about your own safety, you're worried about your partner's safety, and then you're worried about your fucking child out there. That's the thing, and it's like, when there's a kid involved in that and like that, obviously, that piece of fucking shit had no problem. Putting a seven year old face down on the ground while attacking her mother and telling her, I'll kill your mom.

If you make a sound and that was a 16 year old, what was that kid's life? I don't even want to begin to ponder that. All right, well, let's move on from that.

I'm so glad that you're all okay, and I'm so fucking glad that you guys got justice out of that. Like, So glad and your mom is one of my heroes. Shout out to your mom.

Shout out to your, your amazing mom. I love you mom, mom, I love you mom, I love you.

All right, so this one is called That Time A Scary Ghost Saved my life. Oh, that's fun, which I like. It's like casper, but scary.

Hello, hello, I'm Zach, feel free to use my name. I was like, a relatively new listener.

My best friend kept suggesting I give you guys a listen, and I finally caved and started from one in early 2022. As of today, I wrapped up the Dahmer trilogy and I'm excited for the many episodes left for me to get through before I catch up. You guys make the ridiculous traffic in my L.A. commute bearable, and for that I can't thank you enough.

Oh, and just a quick note on our Dahmer trilogy it is no longer up at all, not for subscribers of Wondery Plus or anybody. Yeah, I don't know why it showed up that way.

It shows up as, like, subscriber only, it's not available for anyone. We took it down because we've evolved a lot and we thought with the Evan Peters Dahmer thing, that was going on and everybody was very focused on that. And I'm sure people were looking for podcasts to listen to about the case.

And when we listened to it, we just felt like we could do better. Yeah, we just didn't. There were things like we wouldn't have joked about now, like, I don't know, it just didn't feel like us.

Yeah, no, it didn't at all, you know, so we took it down just as a way of being like, you know what? Go elsewhere for your Dahmer?

Yeah, like, we want other podcasts who covered it way better than we did to get the views exactly. We might revisit it at some point and like, you know, do it the way we feel like we should do it. But that's the reason.

I think some people were confused about it. Yeah, but it's not available anywhere, like, we just took it down. This listener tale is from May of last year.

Yeah, that's last year, but we just wanted to clear that up. In case you were like, where the fuck did that go? Exactly, yeah.

So maybe we'll cover it again. It's just it's good to evolve. And if you see, you know, yeah, if you feel like you can do something better, you should do it better.

Hell yeah, brothers, and I hope other podcasts got views because of that. Me too, so, or listens I should say you're old?

I don't know either way, but thanks for listening. You guys make the ridiculous traffic in my L.A. commute bearable, and for that I can't thank you enough.

I thank you for existing. You know L.A. traffic, how the city's slow, you know, yeah, I know Boston traffic.

That's for sure, isn't it? Like, the worst in the world, L.A. Traffic or Boston? is it the worst in the world?

I think we got like that honor this year. Oh, damn, I always thought like California was worse, it's the worst in, like, the nation, I'm pretty sure.

I mean, that checks. When I used to have to drive into Boston every day, it would take me like two and a half hours. Yeah, it's no good. So anyway. My story begins when an Uber driver totals his car on the freeway, thanks to a couch sitting in the middle of the freeway. And not enough room for him to swerve around it.

It's me, I'm that Uber driver. Oh my god, on the freeway anyways. Here I am suddenly unemployed and without a car.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and I find myself working at a haunted flooring warehouse, driving, driving a forklift on the night shift. Wow, how times have changed, what a time when I say this place was haunted. I mean, the guy that interviewed me told me on the tour of the warehouse that two people have come around a certain corner. Seen a girl in a white dress floating outside of the window on the second floor and immediately quit.

That sounds beautiful, yeah, so, you know, that solves the mystery of why there was a job opening. Now I absolutely believe in ghosts, I'm convinced my grandfather haunts the kitchen where he died in his house. But, like, in a friendly way. I also saw a ghost once at a hotel in London when I was 16. But it was literally just a quick flash. Like when Shelley Duvall goes up the stairs at the end of the shining and sees the butler with the old school furry. But not as scary or weird.

I love you anyway. Obviously, the terrifying girl did not deter me from getting this job. I also learned that there was a second ghost over there, and I learned their origin stories. The dude ghost was a former employee and his fifties died of a heart attack in the bathroom about 15 years ago. That's awful.

The girl, however, she was 16 and jumped in front of a train that went by on the tracks directly behind the warehouse around the same time. Give or take a couple of years. Well, that's really sad. The old heads on my team all told me that they'd never seen the girl, but they had heard the guy whisper their names. Or see, hear random things falling here and there, and I, I myself experienced one of those after working there a few months.

I was in the back putting away a load of flooring when at the end of the aisle I was working in alone. One single box of flooring fell off a pallet about 14 feet up. Whoa, we think the guy was going back to work and somehow knocking over real shit with his ghost forklift. I love that.

It's important to note that I've always tried to maintain a positive vibe with with spirits. If I suspect or know that they're there, that's smart. Anytime I do too, I do that too.

Yeah, you know, just be be kind and you'll get kindness back exactly you know what you give you sure do.

Anytime I would find myself in that section of the warehouse, I'd call out some variation of Hey, ghosts. I'm chill. I just need to do something really quickly and I promise I'll leave you alone. I like that.

That's adorable. And it seemed to work really well, as they never showed themselves or really scared me. Until one night. I'm putting a load away that goes around that girl's corner. Oh, like, I do literally every time I say my usual spiel, this time though, I see her.

She was on the ground instead of floating 10 feet above your head, like usual and in a white dress. I didn't feel whatever those guys that immediately quit felt. And she didn't seem scary or gruesome at all. She looked right at me and said, Get out, she didn't seem scary.

My whole body just went, Holy, fucking shit you guys, I. I fucking dipped. I turned to my happy little ass right around and made a beeline. Zooming full speed at seven miles per hour on my forklift when, maybe two seconds after I saw a goddamn ghost, an earthquake hits No. Like, my night wasn't scary enough already. Oh, she was telling you to get out.

I got another woomp, Yeah, it's happening, so I'm buzzing along as fast as my electric motor could carry. Me. Joining the forming convoy of my coworkers that were closer to the door than I was. As we all gather safely in the center of the yard, all accounted for.

We chilled in the lot, waiting for an aftershock that never came, smoking cigarettes and bullshitting for 30 minutes before the safety team went in to check for damage and to make sure we could return to work safely. Guys, only one thing fell, I know it the last stack of pallets I had put away had fallen right where I would have been. Oh my god. The pallet on the top of the stack was broken. And the shaking knocked it just right that it fell off and took the stuff below with it.

I would have been crushed by literal tons of hardwood flooring had she not scared the absolute shit out of me. So thanks, girl, I hope you got to cross over.

Like, Thanks, man, I think your work here is done. I never saw or heard from either of them again. Oh, and I left that job a few months later to go to a different haunted warehouse. Did not do that on purpose lol but a little boy ghost that would run around the vegetable room. Thanks for reading this far.

And if you're reading it on the podcast, shout out to Shai for getting me to listen, Shout out to Shai. Love y'all and keep up the good work Zach. love you.

Zach, I love that story. Oh my goodness, that was a good one. That was crazy. As soon as you said, she said, Get out.

I was like, wait a second, I think she's like, helping, yeah, like she wasn't like, get the fuck out, I hate you.

She was like, I'm going to save you, She was like, Get out and I love, Thanks girl. thanks girl. I hope you got to cross over.

Zach, that was amazing, and I'm glad you're alive, me too. I'm also kind of glad that you work at another haunted warehouse. It's like your thing, Tm.

It feels right for you. Zach, boop, boop, Zach just booped ya all right.

My next one is called Listener Tale Girl in the Pit, Girl in the Pit, so fitting for me, yeah.

All right, it says, Good day to your widows, Good day. I was introduced to your podcast not too long ago by a new coworker when we were comparing things we listened to. I love your mix of history, true crime and spooky. As those are the things I listen, uh, those are the three things I listen to the most.

Oh, I love that you love all those things I do, too, because we love them history, true crime and spooky.

The best and bravo. I have been enjoying all the listener tales and really wanted to share with y'all the scariest encounter I have ever had. Hell yeah, please feel free to cut this down.

No, no, because it's a lengthy ass rambling of a doozy. I love those whoop.

I will say I have told this story before on some platforms and details are different than before. See, each time I tell it, I open up a bit more about it. The first few times was just I saw a ghost girl, how spooky. I think this will be the first time I leave nothing out.

I'm going all in. Oh, I am honored as fuck right now, honored, color me, honored.

Color me happy, happy and hope you're happy. I hope you're happy.

Right, Jo? Because I've told Mom, if you don't know that video, then you don't know that video. I think it was actually like before, was it?

Probably, I hope you're happy, I hope you're happy, all right. For some background, I was practically raised in the theater.

Oh, hell yeah. Growing up, my parents worked at the local community theater and I got to work on a lot of shows in different areas, that's cool. I did have a lot of experiences while there, but I didn't realize a lot of it. Until I was older and understood that that stuff, it wasn't normal. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, my scariest experience wasn't there.

Those are tales for another day. Ooh, that day is today, please send them. Being the theater kid I was, I decided to get my degree in theater education and become a theater teacher, the theater.

Theater During the years in college, still more spooky things happened, but again, not the scariest. So another day on those, another day, another day. Um, that just reminds me of the Madonna song.

When she's like, I think I'll die another day, Oh, there you go, is that Madonna? Yeah, yeah.

It's like her and Justin Timberlake. My voice, like, betrayed my lack of confidence with that, cause. It was like, Yeah, yeah, you sounded like, Um, did you ever watch the Proud family?

I did. You sounded like Uncle Bobby, cause you used to watch it, yeah.

That was me.

Okay.

That was a great comparison. Deep cut. It was, oh God. During the years in college, still more spooky things happened, but again, not the scariest. So another day on those.

I think I read that twice, you did another day. Oh yeah, another day, but during that time it was Christ, I'm sorry.

But during that time, it was cemented that a theater is not a true theater unless it's haunted. Oh, I agree with that, good or bad doesn't matter, just need a ghost.

Just need a ghost? I also agree now to the scary story. During my last cement semester, fuck cement monster, while completing my student teaching, I was at a high school. Fuck.

About halfway through the semester, I was getting bogged down in grading. As well as my own final project for student teaching, which ended up being over 50 pages of analysis and about 50 pages of supplemental stuff. The band room was right next to our classroom, and I remember struggling to focus during a planning period. So Belle told me I could go into the theater as it would be empty until our next class. I take my veritable mountain of paperwork and lug it into the theater and decided to sit on the pit shell.

To pause the spookies for a moment. I need to try and lay out how particular this theater, how this fuck? I need to try and lay out how this particular theater is well laid out. And what the heck I mean by pit Shell? Thank you for that, cause I was lost. I have attached a janky drawing to try to help you visualize what I'm talking about. So the theater stage is raised off the ground floor by about five feet.

The pit where the orchestra plays is centered in front, with two open doorways that are usually curtained off during the performances. With stairs leading about two to three feet from the ground floor. The top of the pit is usually uncovered during musicals, but when there's not a musical, it is covered by a wooden by wooden boards that we called the shell, hence pit shell, pit, shell, pit, shell. Other theater folk might have different names for it, but that's what we called it at that particular theater.

So that's her way of saying, Don't at me, Growy. Now, back to the spookies. I plopped down my workload and start trying to get through it. Now I was facing out to the theater, so my back is to the back of the stage.

I hear some heavy footsteps behind me now. Thinking it was the man who helps us build the sets, I turned around to greet him, only to find no one there. Now I try to be rational about things, even with all my experiences. As nine times out of 10. It's something not spooky. It's the one time you have to watch out for.

So I try to convince myself it was maybe the base of the from the band room, but also knowing that that noise was very much a work boot. Walking across the stage, I go back to work. Not even five minutes later, I hear the chains in the catwalk swinging. No one could get up there, it's locked.

But again, my brain is trying to say it's just the HVAC turning on. No spookies here. Yeah, I go back to work and get through a half a page of homework responses when the light in the pit turns on.

This is a manual light, no motion sensor, no random switch backstage. The switch is in the pit, the switch is in the pit. I can see both entrances to the pit. No one went down there, but I can definitely see the light on down there through the cracks between the boards.

Feeling less sure it's nothing now. I hop off the stage to the ground floor level and I walk around to the entrance, light definitely on and definitely no one down there.

I think I said something to the effect of, haha, hazing. The new teacher. Go on, get out of there and go to class. I won't even write you up if you leave now. But no one came out. I waited another maybe 30 seconds before turning the light off and hopping back onto the pit shell and trying to get back to work. Now, the next 10 minutes or so are filled with footsteps behind me, coming closer and closer, and chain swings more loudly in the catwalks.

This is literally Jacob Marley. Oh my god, yeah, all up in this pit. I don't like that.

All up in this pit, Jacob Marley, all up in this bitch. I feeling I'm feeling the tension, but I really need to make a dent in this paperwork. So obliviousness is what must happen. Then the lights turn on again in the pit. I just say out loud, knock it off.

And then the light goes off, a beater two passes, light goes on again. I said, knock it off a few seconds longer than the last time before the lights go off again, this time accompanied by a giggle. No, that's when I'm out.

Yeah, that is when I'm out. At this point, I'm both scared and pissed, pissed because this could be some stupid teenage prank that I'm falling right into. Let's be honest, as much as I love working with teenagers, they can be vicious, vicious creatures and scared because it could be something completely different.

And that primal part of my brain was screaming danger. I try to calm myself by organizing my mountain of work into manageable piles. Uh, it keeps me distracted for maybe three minutes, with the noises continuing to get louder and closer. Then the lights in the pit turn on, off, on, off, on, off, rapid fire. The anger went out and I jumped back down to go to the entrance of the pit.

Now not my proudest moment, but I do remember saying this as I reached for the light. Listen here, you little shit. listen here you little shit. Light goes on. And there is standing a girl in her teens long auburn hair, covering her face. Oh, I don't like that.

Wearing what looked like a long white nightgown. Oh, you need to go back to class now. Wow, girl, her hair's covering her face.

Oh, she's a ghost. Did you hear me? You need to get back to class, stop playing with the lights again, no movement.

No acknowledgement. I would be sharting. Even. She's like, I'm dead, like you can't mess with me, you can't tell me to go back to class.

My God, I'm picturing this and I'm so freaked out. I hate this. I'm also just picturing you with your hair covering your face, with my hair covering my face in a nightgown, yeah.

Now I'm freaked out, but the anger is slowly killing the fear, as I honestly believed this was just some kid from the school playing a prank. I reached toward her and went to touch her shoulder, starting to say, Listen here. When her hands snapped up and grabbed my wrist tight, then, before I could say any more, her head snapped up. And oh, boy, let me tell you, I wish, I wish I could forget her face. I'm so scared.

Stark white skin, it is Elena like a porcelain doll, lips slightly more pink, but still pale as hell, eyes so black.

Not like all black, like you can see in the movies, but just like all pupil, no color eyes. She opened her mouth and let out this scream like I've never heard before or since. It's difficult to describe, but here's the best to describe, but here's the best I got. It was like every sound possible combined. So high it made my ears hurt, but yet so low, I felt my chest rumble with it.

Oh my God, I am so stressed out right now. My whole body is wooming. I have every goosebump ever in. all of my hair is literally standing up.

Goosebumps have goosebumps. Oh my God. I yanked my arm free and she thankfully let go because, no lie, if she hadn't let me go, I wasn't going to get out of there. I had a bruise on my wrist for a couple of days to even prove it. I grabbed all my piles from the shell, thankfully within reach, and hustled on out of there, back to the classroom.

Belle gave me a funny look and asked if I was okay. And I think I tried to pass everything off as it was too quiet to work. But being a good teacher, she knew I was lying and I just said, I got spooked, just got into my own head. I was not about to tell this veteran teacher that a ghost girl scared the shit out of me.

Nope, that's a quick way to get any potential credentials revoked. But she already knew Was it Don, the monkey or the girl, ghost or the ghost girl? she asked calmly.

What wait, are those three separate things? Are they Don the Monkey or the Ghost girl? or is it Don the Monkey? I don't know.

I gotta know, Don the Monkey or the ghost girl. What did you hear? footsteps, the chains or giggles?

So I think it's three, damn? She asked just as calmly. Hey, Ja meet floor? Yeah, same.

Uh, all three, and then some. I mumbled. Each of the following question became more and more hesitant from her, like she knew what was coming, but she didn't want it to come. Did you see her? A nod from me?

Did she touch you? a hesitant nod? Did she scream? Not so much a nod, but like a singular body roll, Oh my.

Oh my. She then went on to explain a few things to me. The footsteps were those of Don, a nice, older man type ghost who usually just wanted, uh, who was usually just around to help. And some of the students believe, to protect others from the girl and the monkey, Oh.

Now, the monkey wasn't the adorable primate the name conjures. Oh no, but rather a thing in the catwalks that would crawl and swing around. Oh my God. And cause mischief at best, or throw things and do its best to get people to go away at worst.

A few students claim to have seen it, but I hadn't, for which I'm thankful. And the girl ghost? A lot of people heard her, few had seen her, fewer had touched her accidentally or otherwise, and about four total had heard her scream. What the fuck. She wasn't a bad omen per se, but it was just a rarity.

Oh my God, that it. But it was just such a rarity that it did make the teacher nervous. She asked if I was okay, and I just shrugged, and I said, I guess this is a real theater then.

Holy shit. I was never alone in the theater again, always had a student or another teacher or adult with me, according to kids. Oh my God.

According to The Kid Thing Kids, things were a lot more active that semester, a lot more stories of sounds were more frequent. I tried not to acknowledge it with the students, but they knew I was hearing things too. I talked with a few of the students about the noises, but I never spoke about what I saw. It's not that I mind talking about my experiences.

I think people should be able, uh, should be able to without any stigma. But during that time, I felt like I couldn't talk about it. Like, if I did, it would make things so much worse. Give it more power, maybe.

And you? I ended up graduating with one, teaching for about 10 years. More spooky stories there for yet another day. That's that day, girl, it's today. I ended up leaving due to the pandemic and burnout, which is a real thing in education. Oh, that's a real thing everywhere.

But with education, I can't imagine. I was able to reconnect with a lot of people from my past during the pandemic and found out more about the experiences from my younger years. Which has brought a lot more questions for me personally, wondering if I'm just a ghost beacon, I say you are, but that's an introspection for another day, another day. I still work with the local theater, getting my theater fix.

I still experience odd things, both in theaters and out in the world. But hey, what can you do? Stay weird, but not so weird that a creepy ghost girl lures you into a pit and scream at you. While a monkey swings in the rafters and an old man just walks around from Kay, holy shit, Kay, oh my god.

That was one of the scariest ever. That is wow, especially cause like, what did she want? I'm? I am shooketh, what do you want from me?

I am truly shooketh. That's what I would have said. Oof, wow. I pictured that whole thing in my head and it's like, And now I'd like to get it out of my head.

Oh, yeah, okay.

KAY That was amazing and I'm really stressed out about it, so I'm going to go to the next one. It's called the curious case of Bonnie the Basset Hound.

Bonnie the Basset hound, which sounds delightful. Dear Alina and Ash, kudos for the great podcast. Thanks. My dog Bruce and I listened to it while we take walks in the woods.

He couldn't give a fuck, but I love it. I'm obsessed with you. Kudos for a laugh within two seconds. I love you so much already. He couldn't give a fuck, but I sure love it.

So sorry to hear about Bailey. Oh, thank you. I am a veterinarian and I was touched to hear all the staff at Bailey's clinic assisted you and your family with compassion. Aw, I love, I love you.

I love you for what you do. Oh, hell yeah, I'm sure she's chasing rabbits in doggie heaven, she sure is, cause she has eyes.

Now you don't have to use my name, but you can mention Bruce. He's listening, but he couldn't give a fuck, but he couldn't give a fuck. So in 2010, I finally closed my companion animal veterinary Clinic following 17 years of practice. Holy shit.

I transferred my caseload to a neighboring clinic run by a highly competent and compassionate colleague. She promised to take good care of my patients and was to become the veterinarian for my own pets because dad no longer ran a clinic. I have since dedicated my career to teaching, writing and consulting, and listening to weird podcasts and love every minute of every day. I'm so I love you, you're delightful.

I'm so glad that you love every minute of every day. You should, you absolutely should. you've earned it, everyone should. You may be wondering why the hell I chose to hang up my stethoscope in the middle of my career?

I was going to ask that, but there were many reasons, including wanting to spend more time with my girls, who in 2010 were aged 14, 16 and 18.

Oh my God, you got better and better, and my wife, the love of my life. I'm sobbing. you're a wonderful human.

You are. However, one contributing factor undoubtedly tipped the decision scale. The factor was my taphophobia, which I didn't even know how to name. Before I listened to episode Morbid Episode 253 Buried Alive. Well, maybe not genuine taphophobia, but definitely a weird variation of it. Okay, that was a crazy episode.

It all started when I was in my final year of vet school in 1993.

The last year of veterinary studies is spent in clinical practice. The students do rotations in various fields, gaining hands-on experience, preparing for finals and mostly trying to find random snippets of sleep throughout the day or night. Most of the rotations are done in the university teaching hospital. While on duty, the student receives all incoming cases, does the initial intake, and then leaves the room to consult with the attending veterinarian on the case.

After that, the student and teacher returned the owners to the owners, who have been anxiously waiting in the exam room with their ailing pet to complete the visit. Usually, the hospital attracts the unusual and challenging cases referred to by stumped vets in the community, or brought in by owners who seek a second opinion. One stormy afternoon, while I was on clinic duty, a young couple was sent into my examination room. With a lovely seven-year-old female basset hound named Bonnie. I'm a lover. After introducing myself as a student in training and explaining the teaching hospital's procedure, I asked them how I can help Bonnie.

They told me that Bonnie was feeling fine and that they just wanted a complete checkup for her. I told them that this is a highly unusual request and reminded them that this is a teaching hospital that normally only sees complicated cases. They insisted on a routine physical and said, We promise that after you complete the exam, we'll tell you why we're here. That would freak me the fuck out and I'd be like, What am I about to find inside of this dog?

That is ominous as fuck. We'll tell you why we're here. I examined the droopy eyed hound, from her perfectly healthy nose to the tip of her wagging tail. I listened especially hard to hear her beating heart trying to pick up a subtle murmur. Or anything that might tell me why the seemingly normal dog had been brought in to taunt me. I was sure that I had overlooked some rare disorder, but that at the end of my examination, I concluded that I could find nothing wrong with Bonnie.

I told them that I'm going to consult with my attending and that they would both. We would both be back. Momentarily after telling my teacher about the case, we returned to the exam room and the attending doctor performed a complete physical. Only to confirm, much to my relief, that she could find nothing wrong with Bonnie, she said that we could run blood work, but only after they tell us the reason for coming to an expensive referral center. With a seemingly healthy pooch. Their story was morbid as fuck. Uh-oh.

That said, so they said that the week before, Bonnie was feeling weak and had started to limp on her hind leg. The next day, she stopped eating and they took her to the neighborhood vet. He examined her and told them that she had advanced incurable bone cancer, and he recommended that they put her to sleep. Oh my God.

He assured them that it was the humane choice because she was suffering and it would only get worse. They explained the heartbreaking situation to their two small children and told them that Bonnie was very sick and that she will be with grandma in heaven. Bonnie was euthanized and buried by her family in the woods, not far from their house. No, she wasn't, cause, um, she's, she's here right now.

My following the tragic and unexpected chain of events. The family went on a four day vacation to relax and mourn the loss of their beloved pet. When they returned home, Bonnie was waiting for them on the front porch. What?

What, what? At first, they assumed that a new basset hound had miraculously adopted them. But after visiting Bonnie's grave and finding it to be dug up with a torn body bag, they knew that Bonnie had either come back from the dead or had been buried alive. The latter being the more logical explanation. Oh my God.

Holy shit. She was hungry and had lost some weight, but was otherwise perfectly healthy. What? Which is why they chose an advanced teaching hospital for her post mortal checkup. We never did figure out what ailment had mimicked her misdiagnosed bone cancer, because after running an additional battery of tests, she was declared perfectly healthy.

Oh my God, happy to have Bonnie back. And after explaining to the children that no grandma is not coming back, they chose not to confront their now ex veterinarian on his malpractice. Which included not only a reckless and false diagnosis, but also a failed attempt at euthanasia. Holy shit, the case of Bonnie, the resurrected Basset Hound, haunted me from that day on.

I am.

I don't even have words right now. That dog dug themselves out of their own grave, oh my God, and that family, and this isn't even done yet. But that family had to think about the fact that they buried their pet alive and that while they were on vacation, he unburied himself. She, I would literally be thinking about that.

24, seven that if that was Bailey, I'd be like, Oh my god, Bailey woke up in a body bag, I know, and had to dig herself out.

Oh my God, holy shit. I am just like, I'm like, flabbergasted right now, okay? So, it says euthanasia of a pet is an act of mercy that we veterinarians are thankful to be able to perform when justified.

Yeah, but every time we take a beloved pet's life, a little part of us dies with it. Oh, my practice was in a royal rural area, where most owners chose choose to bury their pets. So for me, the emotional burden of performing euthanasia was weighed down even more by the deep terror that I would fought via that I would fail, and that the animal would be buried alive because of me.

After every euthanasia, I was a mess, I had nightmares and couldn't sleep for days. The image of Bonnie standing on the porch to meet her grieving family wouldn't leave my mind. My tap, a phobia, phobia by proxy, eventually brought me to leave clinical practice. A difficult decision, but one that I'm totally happy with and which has brought me new opportunities and adventures. So that's my story.

Keep it weird, but not so weird that you obsess about burying dogs alive because of an asshole veterinarian that kills dogs for no reason and can't even get that right. Oh my god, holy shit, like, that's the thing.

Why did, like, why there was no. I'm just I'm just saying things, I am shook, I'm just saying, and you know what, I totally get why you would leave for that?

Because I, I always thought like I was, I'm always in like. I'm really amazed by veterinarians that they can handle what they can handle when it comes to animals. And and I always thought about that, like when they, you know, when Bailey passed away, I was sitting there and I was like, we're grieving. But this poor vet has to go back and finish their day at work. After they just killed, not like, killed, but you know what I mean, like, they had to put this dog to sleep. I know I've never, actually, even really thought about that.

And that's like a huge responsibility. And that's why, like, we made sure, like when it happened, we were like, thanked them. And we're like, you know, thank you for making us feel comfortable about this, and like, you know, we trust you and like, thank you so much. Like. That's a huge burden that like, and for you to recognize that that just was like, too much like, good for you. And I'm so glad that you found like, new adventures.

And Bruce, I know you don't give a fuck, but like, But Bruce, holy shit dude, Bruce, my guy, my guy. Like, Oh, and Bonnie, I. That was a wild tail, like that tail, just like that shook me from, like my core. One of the craziest we've heard. That's just really wild. Thank you for sharing that, me, yeah.

You said, Thank you for sharing that, and I was going to say, me too, me too, motherfucker, yeah, and you know what, Bruce? Have a great day.

Have a blessed day, blessed Day, Bruce, blessed Bruce-y day. All right, I think we have time for one more listener tail.

And it's going to be called, actually, you know what? Let me see, which one do I want to do? Let me see. Oh, I found it.

It's called listener tail, smiley face, Hello, I am more Morgan. I was going to call you Morgan, I'm Morgan.

I'm Morgan, a short-term listener I am. Uh, I don't even remember what case I searched an Apple podcast to find y'all, but I'm glad I did. I am too me too.

Well, happy to have ya. I love true crime and all things spooky, so what a great combo this podcast is. Hell yeah, aw, thanks, Morgan.

You love the spooky stuff, look at the like, the spooky. I will preface this with that. I am absolutely a believer in most. I just can't get behind the idea of zombies, but I'm open to someone to try to convince me.

Things paranormal, I love that I'm open to a zombie, trying to convince me I'm open to it.

I think there are some things in this world we can't explain. Even in the height of this technological era, there are still mysteries that have plagued humanity for millennia that we cannot explain. I agree that was beautifully written. I will say that this is not my only encounter with the paranormal.

I have several, this is just the most recent. It's called Whose Blood is it? Anyways? I wish that was a name to a quirky game show.

Alas, it is a burning question that literally haunts me. Oh man, what a game show that would be. Yeah, right, some background before I jump in.

Setting Summer 2020.

Oh, I am very pregnant with my first child. Crap, congrats.

My husband and I purchased a home in my hometown as my mom is going to watch the baby when we have to go back to work. The house we purchased was in okay condition, definitely livable. But the house had previously been a rental property. And the last tenants before we purchased the house left a mess and some damage to the home. The home was built in the early eighties, so every room had lovely popcorn ceilings. Before we moved in, we hired somebody to repaint every room and scrape those ceilings.

This job was not quite finished before we moved in. The master bedroom and the bathroom was the last two to be painted and scraped. So, for the time being, our bed and most everything was in the living room. For about two weeks until the contractor could finish the job. So onto the good part, my stepdad was having a birthday party in town.

Anyone who had a key to my house was at this party. This will be important. Later, I was pregnant, was the designated and was the designated driver for my husband. After a few hours, I was tired and I wanted to go home. A severe summer storm.

Oh, those are my favorite. I want a severe summer storm so badly right now. Well, one had blew through and all the many party guests were now stuck inside. We live in Texas, for anyone who is curious, and September is peak tornado season, so severe storms are common. We leave and I pull into the garage, and my husband, who has only had about three beers, was still for the most part sober.

We walked through the kitchen when I observe that there's blood splattered on the kitchen tile. Oh, I think, okay, maybe Carl, our cat, hurt herself, Carl the cat, Carl the cat.

I love it and I love that Carl is a woman. Yeah, she's a woman.

She's a woman, Yes, she is a female cat named Carl. I didn't question it, I love that. It's like, I was like, I am not giving any explanation into that.

Just yep, I love it, I love it. So I, as quickly as my pregnant body would allow, waddled into the living room to find more blood. There was blood spattered on the on the bed, a blood trail across the living room. Until it finally created a small pool by the front entrance.

What? When I looked up, I saw in disbelief that the front door was wide open. This was weird as the doorknob was still locked. What so?

The best theory that we had was that the storm blew the door open. Maybe an animal walked in and Carl fought it, Carl, the female cat fighting animals, Carl fighting it. The only thing was Carl darts out any open door for the Oh my God, I'm so sorry.

The only thing was Carl darts out any open door the second it's opened. And she was pleasantly sleeping in the guest room, perched on a box, unbothered. Nothing had been moved in the house, no valuables taken, nothing out of place there was. There were several electronic items in plain sight that could have easily been stolen.

What before I could think straight? I was, I was full on, panicked that the blood needed to be cleaned, it could not be on the floor. The reason set in, then reason set in, and I decided to call my dad, who's a retired police officer. He immediately told me to call the police and get out of the house in case there was still a person there.

I think that was good advice, me too, I would also give you that advice. So we wait in my car until the police show up, they clear the house.

No one's inside and we're allowed back in. They ask us some questions, most of which we have no answers for, as we have no idea where this blood came from. Our cat's not injured, nor do we have any injuries. They collect a blood sample and run a field test, it is human blood.

What? They swab several locations and take the bloodstained sheet from our bed and tell us to call if anything happens. What? A few days later, I get a call from a detective telling me that she's just trying to close her case.

The blood was ran through whatever system they had and there was no matches. Um, I'd be like, I don't live here anymore, I'd be like, That's not the end of this, my friend. It's not fast forward, maybe a month.

My husband and I were painting our office. We step out of the house to go have lunch. And there's a small blood splatter on the freshly painted wall that was definitely not there before. Currently, we find random blood every so often, in random spots, always small, nothing like the first time, and we clean it and ignore it.

What? There have been times in this house that I have felt like I was being watched or just got the shivers because I was feeling creeped out. Things have gone missing to return in a not so obvious place days to a week later. Other than the creepy feelings I have, I've not had any feelings of malice. We ran a history check on the house and no one's died in the house.

The land is not on an ancient burial ground. We have no idea whose blood it is, or even what it means. It's very creepy and for the most part, I just like to pretend it didn't happen. What?

I can send pictures if you'd like. Yeah, thanks for reading. Yeah, please do, that's it.

Please send pictures. Holy shit, you just find random blood in your house for no fucking reason. you gotta send that. I'm sure you got to call someone.

I call somebody other than the police because I don't know what they're going to do past what they already did. Maybe ghostbusters, I'm not sure. call someone holy shit.

That's fucking terrifying guys, What have you done this episode? What a strange ass episode. That's scary as hell.

Wow, damn damn, those were some stories, guys, those were.

I want to know what that blood is, I gotta know I love that you just cleaned it and it's like, Is it, is it fresh blood every time?

Or does it show up like a little?

Happy, fresh blood, there you go. That's a great sound, I know.

Uh, is it like, is some of it old? or is it always new? is it a little mix of both? Do you get a variety pack of blood? What do you get?

What do you get when you find it? Where's the source of the blood? That's what we're all wondering here. A human, obviously, but like, not, because there's no human inside.

Sure, not Carl, unless Carl is a human in a cat's body. And we're we're just finding a cryptid here, or maybe it's Frank Frank.

Look at you, look at you, bringing it, bringing it back around, that was finger guns and wrapped right around, full circle. I like it.

I like it. Hey Doug, come on the pod, come on the pod, hey Frank, stop bleeding in that person's house and hey guys.

We love you, we do love you, we love. When you send in these tales. And if you have a tale that you would like us to read on the pod, go ahead and send it on in to Morbidpodcast at gmail.com. And please put Listener Tale somewhere in the subject line. Do it.

We hope you keep listening, and we hope you keep it weird and keep it so weird that you name your female cat. Carl. Thank you, bye. Yes, do that.

If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at Wondery.com Slash Survey.