It’s wedding season. The time for white dresses, vows, and dreams of a long happy marriage. But beware: fairy tale weddings can hide deadly secrets. Behind the veil, not every story ends in ‘happy ever after’. Some promises come with curses. Some “I do’s” lead to murder. In this collection, love isn’t always a blessing, it can be a curse waiting to strike. First, the ring chooses love Followed by legacy of terror Finally in our last story, vows, blood and betrayal Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Hello? Is anybody there? I called out. As soon as I saw it, a scream erupted from my mouth. Submitted by Abby. Hi, 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... It's wedding season, the time for white dresses, vows, and dreams of a long, happy marriage.
But beware, fairy tale weddings can hide deadly secrets. Behind the veil, not every story ends happy ever after. Some promises come with curses. Some I do's lead to murder. In this collection, love isn't always a blessing. It can be a curse waiting to strike. First, the ring chooses love, followed by legacy of terror. Finally, in our last story, vows, blood, and betrayal.
Before we get to our stories, the most important thing to do is hit that subscribe button if you are on YouTube, or hit the follow button on Spotify or wherever you listen to your podcast. so you don't miss a single episode. We'd also love you to leave a comment or rating.
Whatever you feel moved to do would be super appreciated, and we love hearing from our fans, and we're so excited to have you listening. Thanks for being here. So, want to hear something scary? Happily Never After. Some heirlooms carry history, others carry hunger, like in this story, based on the cursed ring urban legend written by Sarah.
The day Simone found the ring, she wasn't even looking for it. The attic of her grandmother's house smelled like thyme, dried lavender, old dust, and something faintly metallic. She'd been sorting boxes for hours, pushing past faded Christmas ornaments and long-dead Polaroids when her fingers brushed velvet at the back of a drawer. a small black pouch, warm to the touch.
Inside was a ring, antique gold, slim and elegant, set with a single deep garnet that looked black until the light hit it just right, and then it glowed like a drop of blood. It pulsed against her palm. Don't, she whispered, even as she slid it on. It fit perfectly. She didn't tell Mark about it. The ring stayed on her hand like it belonged there. At first, she figured it was all a coincidence.
She spilled coffee on her dress the morning of their engagement shoot. The florist backed out at the last minute. Mark snapping at her over nothing. It's just stress, she thought. Everyone gets nervous before a wedding. Then she heard the whispers, soft, like wind through an open window. Only there was no wind, and the windows were shut.
Simone would lie in bed beside Mark, eyes wide in the dark, and hear them. Voices not quite speaking words, like conversations in another room. Familiar. Wrong. She bought a white noise machine. She slept with earplugs, but the voices grew stronger. Sometimes they said her name. Sometimes, Marx. Then she caught her reflection watching her.
she started subtly her mirror image lagging behind blinking just a beat too late one morning she brushed her hair and paused her reflection did not it stared at her lips curled in a smile she didn't feel she stepped back heart thudding the reflection mouthed the word mine Simone decided she had to take off the ring that night, but it wouldn't budge. The skin around it had darkened.
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