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The Wraith by the Bog

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There’s something about small towns in summer that makes you feel untouchable. Maybe it’s the hum of cicadas in the trees, the laughter echoing off the lake, or that golden haze that settles over everything when the sun starts to dip. It’s the kind of place where you feel like nothing bad could ever really happen. That’s what Evan thought when he moved to Brookridge. He’d only been there two weeks before he met some kids his age—Jonas, Tiff, and Ryan—at the corner store near the bridge. They invited him to a bonfire by the bog that night. He didn’t know it then, but everyone in Brookridge had a story about that bog. The fire crackled, spitting orange sparks into the warm air. Marshmallows burned, laughter echoed, and somewhere in the dark, frogs croaked. The air smelled like wet moss and smoke. When the conversation turned quiet, Jonas leaned in, his grin flickering in the firelight. “You new here don’t know about the Wraith, huh?” Evan smirked. “The what?” Tiff rolled her ...
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🎲The Nightly Storyteller Chronicles — “Zombicide” 🎲

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Monologue There’s a sound you never forget once you’ve heard it. That low, dragging moan — part hunger, part despair — echoing through empty streets. You can almost taste the decay in the air before you even see them. The way the light flickers across broken windows, the way silence shatters under the weight of one groan, then two, then dozens… It’s the sound of the end — not in a flash, but in slow, shambling waves. And yet… in that chaos, in that blood-slicked ruin, there’s something almost comforting. Because when the world ends, there are no rules left to break. Only survival. Only the game. --- Game Review: Zombicide If you’ve ever wanted to know what it feels like to fight for your life with a frying pan and a prayer, Zombicide delivers that in spades. The board opens up like a neighborhood frozen in dread — cars abandoned mid-escape, doors half-open, alleys lined with shadows that move when you’re not looking. The first few turns feel manageable. You search for suppl...
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Cry Beneath the Ice — A Five-Minute Fright

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Intro by the Nightly Storyteller: > “They say curiosity killed the cat… but sometimes curiosity drags you into the forest, where shadows move and the wind whispers secrets you’re not ready to hear. Tonight, I have a tale of snow, a coin that gleams in the sunlight, and two friends whose impulsive hearts led them into danger. Marissa and Claire sought freedom from broken lives… and found far more than they bargained for. Tread carefully. Keep your wits. And maybe… don’t stray from the trail.” --- Marissa’s phone buzzed again. Claire’s name flashed. She answered, relief and fatigue mingling in her voice. “Another sleepless night?” Claire asked softly. Marissa exhaled, voice tight. “Yeah… this divorce is just… I don’t know, crushing me. Half my life feels like it’s been erased overnight.” Claire chuckled lightly, bitter but warm. “Tell me about it. I swear, some nights I just… scream into my pillow.” They laughed weakly, then sighed, sharing the quiet despair that comes wit...
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❄️ The Nightly Storyteller Chronicles: The Yeti

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"The higher you climb, the colder it gets… until even your name freezes and disappears in the wind." --- 🎭 Nightly Storyteller Monologue There’s something about the cold that strips you bare. You can lie to others, hide behind words, charm, or even fear—but in the mountains, all that melts away. The wind doesn’t care who you are. It howls through your bones, digs beneath your skin, and reminds you that the world existed long before you did. They say that when you stare too long into the snow, something stares back. Something ancient. --- 🧊 Cryptid Focus: The Yeti Few creatures are as shrouded in white silence as the Yeti, also called The Abominable Snowman. Tales of its presence echo through the Himalayas, where oxygen is scarce, and the only sound for miles is the crunch of ice beneath your boots. Locals describe a towering figure—eight to ten feet tall, covered in pale fur, eyes glimmering like lanterns in a blizzard. Its cries, they say, can shake snow from m...
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Five Minute Fright: The Coin of Gettysburg

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[Intro – The Nightly Storyteller Speaks] Some say belief fades in the light of reason. That logic shields us from superstition and keeps the darkness where it belongs—behind us. But belief… is patient. It waits in the quiet places, ready to remind us that not everything can be explained. --- [The Story] Dr. Paul and Melissa Bennett were both science teachers—married, methodical, and proudly skeptical. They didn’t believe in ghosts, omens, or anything that couldn’t be proven by observation and evidence. When summer break arrived, they loaded their RV, brought along their black Labrador, Murphy, and planned a road trip through Civil War sites. They wanted to see the landscapes they’d only shown students in textbooks—to experience history with their own eyes. At a truck stop outside Gettysburg, Paul filled the RV’s tank. Something caught the light in the gravel below the pump. A small gold coin—smooth, unmarked, and strangely warm to the touch. “Probably someone’s souvenir,” h...
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Shadows of the 80s: Top Horror Films and Secrets Unveiled

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Storyteller Monologue: "Night has a way of stretching itself thinner, longer, until every sound, every flicker of shadow, becomes amplified. I’ve walked streets where the wind whispers secrets only the desperate hear, where the corners of rooms seem to pulse with life that shouldn’t exist. And the 1980s… oh, the 1980s understood fear. They didn’t hide it behind polish or subtlety. They threw it at you in neon lights, slashing blades, and the screams of teenagers who thought the night was theirs to own. Tonight, we step back into that decade—where horror was unrestrained, unapologetic, and unforgettable." --- Top 5 Horror Films of the 1980s: 1. The Shining (1980) Jack Torrance’s descent into madness set against the icy, sprawling Overlook Hotel isn’t just a tale of isolation—it’s a symphony of paranoia. Kubrick’s direction forces every creak of the floorboards, every whisper through the walls, to feel like it’s aimed directly at you. Shelley Duvall’s terrified eyes...
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💰 Five Minute Fright: The Rake

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"Sometimes, finding something shiny isn’t luck. It’s a warning." --- 🎭 Nightly Storyteller Introduction There’s a story I keep hearing, whispered in streets at night, passed along when no one’s looking. It’s about a gold coin, a simple thing that somehow carries a curse. Some call it a warning. Some call it temptation. Whatever it is… it always finds the right person. --- 🚗 The Story It was supposed to be a normal night. A group of friends were getting ready for a party—music spilling from one apartment, laughter from another. One of them spotted a gold coin glinting on the sidewalk outside their house. “Lucky find,” someone said, shoving it into a pocket, and they headed out. The party was alive. Drinks sloshed over tables, people sang along to the music at the top of their lungs, others danced with wild abandon, spinning and laughing in circles. Some played drinking games, roaring with victory or groaning in defeat. It was one of those nights where the hours d...
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