The Alexandria Archives is a late-night fiction series staged around Alexandria University’s WHAU signal. It begins in familiar campus-radio territory: greetings to Wendigos, student festivals, literary submissions, Patreon notices, interviews, and voices trying to keep a show moving. The floor drops quickly. Behind the station chatter are aliens, vampires, deep ones, fae courts, gods, institutional memory, and administrators issuing statements that deny everything obvious. The show’s core pleasure is that nobody sounds especially surprised for long. A tentacle can destroy a radio station, a best friend can be staked through the heart, and the next beat may still land as a dry aside about how weird everything has become. The mythology is broad but oddly grounded. Place names, tunnels, student unions, creative writing programs, police stations, pint glasses, and bookstore logistics make the uncanny feel like part of campus infrastructure. Covenant Bob gives the series some of its biggest scale. Squint Bob scares gods, Kilt and Blue carry shield-and-spear mythology, and Gore often becomes the baffled counterweight to whatever new reality is unfolding. The bonus-style Kilt and Gore stories lean more comic, sending the pair through sitcom logic, fae birthday numerology, cursed paperwork, and supernatural odd jobs. The archive pieces can be darker. A vampire-killer story brings grief, pursuit, and old-world monster lore into a story frame. Student fiction segments add another layer, where drunk brownies, eerie knitting, and storm-lit strangeness are treated as submissions worth reading aloud. The series also occasionally steps outside fiction for creator farewells or interviews, including a novelist Drew Hayes conversation about books, role-playing games, and writing as work. Those moments add texture, but the identity remains the Alexandria setting itself. It is genre-savvy, loose around the edges, and comfortable with absurd escalation. The show suits listeners who like horror with a lived-in mythology rather than clean monster-of-the-week containment. It is funny, but not weightless. It is sprawling, but not anonymous. Alexandria feels like a place with secrets and a student radio booth that keeps broadcasting anyway.