Late Night Tales

Late Night Tales is a horror fiction podcast built from first-person accounts. Someone did something, or found something, and is telling it after the fact. That framing makes the stories feel like confessions before anything strange has happened. The narrator of 'trespass' begins by admitting that their 30s were not years to be proud of, a stretch of stalled ambition and self-blame. Then comes a break-in. The search is laid out room by room: a neatly made twin bed, bunk beds under glow-in-the-dark stars, a closet nearly the size of the bathroom and just as empty as the rest of the house. What the narrator keeps going back to afterward is a Ouija board on the coffee table, seen that night and ignored. That slow, detailed inventory is the show's clearest habit. 'leeches' starts with nothing more than the feeling of being stared at in a sunlit home office. The feeling follows the narrator out to the car and hardens into half a face at the corner of a hallway, one unblinking eye that simply stops being there once the narrator swings. It ends in blood, with a soaked dish towel and laughter between screams. Elsewhere, objects carry much of the dread. In 'echoes', a narrator grieving a father is told that a tape is holding open a window to another place, and that destroying it would turn the window into a door. The only safe move is to give it to someone else. 'new_project.mp3' turns on a trunk locked in Unit 34 at a storage facility north of Queenstown, Florida, and its narrator is a runner whose tax forms say independent consultant. Its recording is unusual: lines restart, a voice calls out 'Hello?', and the narrator ends up asking someone unseen to come out or stay quiet. 'value' follows a nervous drive down a farmland road with a tire iron within reach, and it closes on a smiling auctioneer who answers the question of what comes next with 'Metamorphosis. Then... Ascension.' Against all of this stands 'Herbert West - Reanimator: Chapter 2', heavier and more ornate: a typhoid summer in Arkham, postgraduate work at Miskatonic University, and a friend whose experiments aim at reviving the dead. The chapter ends with a revival gone badly wrong. Putting plain modern confession next to period dread gives the feed two distinct voices. For a first listen, 'trespass' shows the method most clearly, and 'echoes' suits anyone drawn to grief that turns uncanny. Suicide, graphic injury and the dead are all part of the material.