Blair Bathory

Hi, witches. I'm Blair Bathory, and this is the Something Scary Podcast. Thank you so much for being here, whether this is your first time or you're one of the brave souls who join us every week. And February is extra special around here because we'll be celebrating Black History Month with some incredible female writers and scary storytellers by telling their stories every week. So...

Hi, witches. I'm Blair Bathory, and this is the Something Scary Podcast. Thank you so much for being here, whether this is your first time or you're one of the brave souls who join us every week. And February is extra special around here because we'll be celebrating Black History Month with some incredible female writers and scary storytellers by telling their stories every week. So...

Hi, witches. I'm Blair Bathory, and this is the Something Scary Podcast. Thank you so much for being here, whether this is your first time or you're one of the brave souls who join us every week. And February is extra special around here because we'll be celebrating Black History Month with some incredible female writers and scary storytellers by telling their stories every week. So...

We have all at one time or another heard something that wasn't there, or felt the presence of something that couldn't be seen. We often brush it off as nothing, but that's just ignoring the truth. There are things that can't be explained by ordinary senses. Like shadows that move when no one is there and whispers that echo in empty rooms. In cold spots that linger in warm places.

We have all at one time or another heard something that wasn't there, or felt the presence of something that couldn't be seen. We often brush it off as nothing, but that's just ignoring the truth. There are things that can't be explained by ordinary senses. Like shadows that move when no one is there and whispers that echo in empty rooms. In cold spots that linger in warm places.

We have all at one time or another heard something that wasn't there, or felt the presence of something that couldn't be seen. We often brush it off as nothing, but that's just ignoring the truth. There are things that can't be explained by ordinary senses. Like shadows that move when no one is there and whispers that echo in empty rooms. In cold spots that linger in warm places.

Those with a gift, or perhaps a curse, see beyond the veil of the world that we know. Perceiving the unseen forces that linger just out of reach. The forces that are powered by the dead. First, shadows call you home, followed by it's always watching. Finally, in our last story, when intuition turns to terror. So, wanna hear something scary? A haunted vision.

Those with a gift, or perhaps a curse, see beyond the veil of the world that we know. Perceiving the unseen forces that linger just out of reach. The forces that are powered by the dead. First, shadows call you home, followed by it's always watching. Finally, in our last story, when intuition turns to terror. So, wanna hear something scary? A haunted vision.

Those with a gift, or perhaps a curse, see beyond the veil of the world that we know. Perceiving the unseen forces that linger just out of reach. The forces that are powered by the dead. First, shadows call you home, followed by it's always watching. Finally, in our last story, when intuition turns to terror. So, wanna hear something scary? A haunted vision.

When shadows call you home, it's the last dance. Like in this story written in honor of Black History Month by one of our featured writers, L. Marie Wood. Her grandmother warned her about them. She said when the time came and the shadows started to show themselves along the wall, hovering up high, where the ceiling and wall met, she was on her last dance.

When shadows call you home, it's the last dance. Like in this story written in honor of Black History Month by one of our featured writers, L. Marie Wood. Her grandmother warned her about them. She said when the time came and the shadows started to show themselves along the wall, hovering up high, where the ceiling and wall met, she was on her last dance.

When shadows call you home, it's the last dance. Like in this story written in honor of Black History Month by one of our featured writers, L. Marie Wood. Her grandmother warned her about them. She said when the time came and the shadows started to show themselves along the wall, hovering up high, where the ceiling and wall met, she was on her last dance.

The party was over and the last song was almost finished. She told her this when she was just nine years old, right after she started seeing shadows of her own.

The party was over and the last song was almost finished. She told her this when she was just nine years old, right after she started seeing shadows of her own.

The party was over and the last song was almost finished. She told her this when she was just nine years old, right after she started seeing shadows of her own.

how they call you home child she said while thumbing a pocket knife pieces of chewed apple fell from her mouth to land on her apron but she didn't seem to notice barbara did she always did i see your grandfather in him all the time addie mae went on he gets closer and closer every time he comes Grandpa wouldn't hurt you. Barbara's voice was low and nervous.

how they call you home child she said while thumbing a pocket knife pieces of chewed apple fell from her mouth to land on her apron but she didn't seem to notice barbara did she always did i see your grandfather in him all the time addie mae went on he gets closer and closer every time he comes Grandpa wouldn't hurt you. Barbara's voice was low and nervous.

how they call you home child she said while thumbing a pocket knife pieces of chewed apple fell from her mouth to land on her apron but she didn't seem to notice barbara did she always did i see your grandfather in him all the time addie mae went on he gets closer and closer every time he comes Grandpa wouldn't hurt you. Barbara's voice was low and nervous.

The idea of the shadows was frightening enough without putting faces on them. I know it. That's how I know the shadows are good. She peeled off a sliver of apple and thumped it into her mouth. What does he say when he comes? Nothing. He just stands there and smiles. Her grandmother couldn't help but smile at the thought of his visits. That bothered Barbara more than she knew

The idea of the shadows was frightening enough without putting faces on them. I know it. That's how I know the shadows are good. She peeled off a sliver of apple and thumped it into her mouth. What does he say when he comes? Nothing. He just stands there and smiles. Her grandmother couldn't help but smile at the thought of his visits. That bothered Barbara more than she knew