ABOUT THIS EPISODE
Night nurse Katie knows Mr. Thompson will die an hour before the monitor does. Then she finds what the thing at the foot of his bed left behind: a long ash-gray feather, cold in her glove and softer than any feather should be.
By the next night she can see how the people on her floor will die, and the feather keeps coming back no matter where she leaves it. The one face she refuses to look at belongs to her closest friend on the ward.
Original horror fiction from Macabre Miscellanea — every week, without comfort.
Macabre Miscellanea: a curated collection of creepy curiosities.
Watch on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@macabremiscellanea
All platforms: https://macabremiscellanea.com
English
United States
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OTHER EPISODES IN THIS PODCAST
A man's forearm tattoo starts as nine interlocking triangles. Four days
later there are sixty-three, rearranging themselves every night whether
anyone's watching or not — and something new has just started showing up
on his other palm.
He isn't the only one. A dead grandmother's recipe cards keep s…
Six accounts of something in the woods that isn't hiding from anyone —
a dropped flashlight, picked up and clicked off; a torn trash bag,
returned retied in a perfect knot; a voice, mimicked badly, like it's
still learning the shape of the sound.
Every account agrees on the same unsettling detail: …
A prisoner of the Inquisition wakes in total darkness, paces out the walls of his cell, and trips to land with his chin at the edge of a pit he never saw. That was supposed to be the easy death.
When it fails, he is strapped beneath a crescent blade that descends a fraction of an inch with every sw…
She filmed her mother's funeral in daylight on November third. The tape insists it happened at 11:19 PM the night before—while the funeral home was locked and empty.
That impossible timestamp is only the first recording that refuses to obey its owner. An inherited harbor tape moves backward through…
No services for 47 miles. Then a gas station, a red truck with its hood up, and nobody standing beside it. Then the same gas station again.
Nineteen miles by the odometer, nineteen miles of the same half mile, and at the edge of the light, a girl slowly shaking her head. It's almost one in the morn…
Disclaimer: The podcast and artwork embedded on this page are from Alex Thorn, which is the property of its owner and not affiliated with or endorsed by Listen Notes, Inc.
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