THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES #27 - A Sturdy Lock 

How not to be afraid of the robbers and/or demons in the night: 1. Embrace death 2. Realize that demons are hot 3. Get a cat or several (optional but recommended) 4. Realize that those sounds are probably just your neighbors boinking 5. Adopt a morbid sense of humor And just like that nothing will scare you!

I'm considering writing an actual written note book on this podcast cause I'm lowkey getting lost

The ghost: Heavy sleepers: guess i'll die

I think the lock was his wife's way of protecting him from whatever it is that is trying to get to him.

l think what l love the most about this show is that every episode after the main part is over and Jon shares his thoughts on the matter, they Always add that one unsettling detail/suspicious loose end,, it really adds to the campfire-horror vibe that you always get told that "Eventhough it's most likely rubbish, there was this one part we never could quite figure out..."

Jon sounds so annoyed constantly.

this one just makes me sad, i keep imagining that sad, scared old man

Very glad this thing was not the lock picking lawyer. Imagine being a terrified old man, trying to survive the night and between the rattling you hear "click out of three..."

What’s interesting about these stories is theres always some half explanation behind them, for this the old man can be excused as dealing with grief, aging, dementia, etc. but there’s always a part that doesn’t make sense- the blood, the photos, the keyhole And all of these stories seem to have that, which is strange This series is so good!

Someone commented on an earlier episode that there was a tumblr post saying if you have a fear, TMA will have an episode about it and, well.... here we are.

time to watch some Curious George, there is no way I'm going to bed with that in mind

I wonder what would have happened if he didn’t wash off the blood and got the police to do a DNA test on it

This is utterly what my grandfather experienced when he was getting senile, claiming strangers were rattling on his door handle trying to get it, he wasnt alone in the house though... I think

ghost of the wife trying to go to bed, no?

This episode actually makes me really sad. My grandmother had stage two dementia and she often thought people were there when they really weren’t. Heard things no one else did and insisted she left the stove on even though she hadn’t cooked in 10 years. So for the man in the story, even if no one was really on the other side of the door, in his mind… they really were. Driving him further into madness. That’s both horrifying and heartbreaking at the same time. To him they were real and his fear was legitimate.

Homeboi needs to adopt a German Shepherd

This and lost johns cave have been the scariest ones so far for me lol, its times like this that make me glad to not live alone.

i have a hunch that ALL the statements are truthful, even if embellished or distorted

Ha, just thought of this, (I sit and think about the episodes a lot) the doorhandle isn't covered in blood because it is a different door.

whats funny is almost everyone in the statements are like "no one else would believe me,, thats why i came here, you investgate these things" when the head archiviste doesnt rlly beileve either he just reads em aloud with his voice acting

You know who is so damn dramatic. . . . . . . . . Michael: gonna stand on this creaky floorboard. Gonna make him wonder if he actually heard something. Gonna make sure he knows he heard something. Gonna do a blood. Gonna use the cops to gaslight him. Gonna drive this old man mad.

this particular episode im inclined to be as skeptical as jon. old man dealing w/ grief and loneliness close to dying of brain issues? and no actual keyhole or locks? maybe ill change my mind if i hear the other statement but it just sounds like, well, a senile and sad old man

Damn have you been paid to make this so people will want to buy locks for everything? Because it has worked.

Me: One more episode before I sleep *after watching* Me: Nevermind I'm not sleepy anyway

MAG 146 (Threshold) is actually Marcus’ statement if you were wandering

Currently listening to this at midnight, my grandpa frequently walks around the house at this time to raid the fridge. So as they got to the part where someone was turning the doorknob i could hear footsteps outside my room at the EXACT SAME TIME. When i tell you my heart skipped a fucking beat-

I was sleeping in the spare room cause my partner had work and I didn't want to wake them. I had to swap rooms cause this story scared the hell out of me.

Huge paragraph on how good this episode is simply because I want to: (CW for paranoia, I know that it's a horror podcast and all but I feel the need to say) As someone with very intense paranoia (like, medically diagnosed) this episode always fucks with me lol. The fact that whatever is on the other side doesn't try to break down the door but clearly wants in is just so horrifying, it waits as long as it wants never getting tired. Of course, some people think that them breaking down the door an' shit is creepier but not if you think about it like I do. Which is creepier, someone mugging you in the middle of the night, or being stared at and followed the entire night without the other person stopping? Exactly, that's why this is such good horror. It sticks us in an unknown situation and sets up a scenario where the only way to learn is by putting ourselves in danger. Then we're given a twist on a typical fear, in this case a home invasion, then it's taken to the logical extreme (logical in this case meaning strange or absurd but not to the point of breaking the immersion; Parasite, not Deadpool). Since I'm genuinely getting paranoid by just talking about the episode I'll go to the next thing: From a non-horror perspective, they also do a very simple yet (in my nerdy opinion) very cool trick. They make us empathize with a character for the exact same reason we shouldn't trust his story. By setting up that he has brain problems and that he's been lonely since his wife died we feel bad for the old man but we start to question how much of what he's saying is real, unfaithful narrators we feel bad for are the best kind. (Also because he's an old man the whole thing of twisting the doorknob feels almost cruel as he probably has some form of arthritis).

ARCHIVIST Statement of Paul McKenzie, regarding repeated nocturnal intrusions into his home. Original statement given August 24th, 2003. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins. ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT) It’s strange to live alone. Maybe not if you’re used to it, I suppose. If you’ve lived a solitary life then I’m sure it doesn’t feel so isolated or empty. Heck, I remember a time when I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid at living on my own. But now I’m so used to having other people in the house that it’s a sad, lonely existence I’ve found myself living. Even before I started having my nightly visitor. My son Marcus moved out about two years ago, and before that he’d spent a lot of time away at university or, later, moving around because of his work. So I’d grown accustomed to his absence. But when Diane, my wife, passed away four months ago it has… left the place so terribly hollow. I tell myself that it was a mercy, that by the end her condition meant she wasn’t able to live as she deserved to. And while I’m sure it’s true, the sentiment does little to make the bed seem anything other than far too large for just me. She’d hate me saying that. Diane never had any time for mopers or people who wallowed in self-pity, but after forty years of marriage I think I’ve earned it. The thing about living in a house full of people if that you can just ignore any noises that you hear in the night. Is that a creak on the stairs? It’s probably just someone going down for a glass of water. What was that thump? Probably Marcus up too late, and accidentally knocking things off the table. I know it doesn’t actually make you less likely to be robbed or broken into, but you stop panicking about it every time you hear the slightest noise from outside your room. I think that’s normal, at least. I’ve never considered myself to have a nervous disposition, but maybe other people just get on with things and don’t worry so much. Still, since Diane died my nights have become a constant vigil. No house is silent if you listen hard enough, and since ending up alone, I have been listening so hard that at points I have to remind myself to breathe. Now every soft groan of the settling house is the sound of some violent thug or burglar in my home, waiting to see if they need to kill me. Marcus has suggested I get a pet so the house doesn’t feel so empty, but I’ve never had a pet before, and I’m too old to learn now. Given how alert and paranoid I generally am when trying to sleep in an empty house, I’m sure you can imagine my terror when I heard something outside my room one night about a month ago. I’ve lived in the same house since I married Diane, and I know every squeaky floorboard. It was the one just at the top of the stairs. I waited, desperately straining my ears to hear any other sound of movement. I had heard no windows break or doors open downstairs, and I definitely hadn’t heard anyone coming up the stairs, but I was convinced there was someone there. I could feel their presence waiting on the landing. Had they realised how loud the floorboard was? Were they stood there, motionless, listening for any movement from me just as keenly as I was listening for them? Then the sound came again, and I was sure there was someone stood at the top of the stairs, but rather than staying there, I began to hear the heavy tread of what was unmistakably footsteps. At first I… simply lay there, paralysed with fear, thinking that I would just… stay, let them take anything they wanted from the house, and call the police once they had left. But from what I could make out they didn’t seem to be going into any of the other rooms. They were slowly, and deliberately, walking towards my bedroom. The door does have a lock on it, but it’s been so long since I even thought to use it that, at the time, I couldn’t even think where the key might have been. My heart almost stopped when I heard the door handle rattle ever so gently as a hand was placed upon the other side. And slowly, so painfully slowly, the doorknob began to turn. In a burst of adrenaline I didn’t even know I was capable of I sprang out of the bed and across the room. I seized the handle and twisted it back the other way, using both hands to try and match the strength of whoever was on the other side. Still the handle tried to turn, with a slow, relentless effort that spoke of patience and determination, but sheer panic lent me equal strength. My hands began to grow wet with what I assumed, at the time, was sweat, and I worried about keeping my grip. I did, though. For twenty long minutes, I wrestled in the dark over the door handle of my room. I could have reached the light switch, but that would have meant having only one hand to keep on the door, so I stayed in the dark. Then all at once the pressure vanished. The handle no longer tried to turn. I had heard no other sound from outside, though. No footsteps leading away, no sound of someone going down the stairs, the house was just silent. I stood there for the rest of the night, the handle gripped tight. And it wasn’t until the first rays of sun peeked through the windows that I found I had the courage to open my bedroom door and look outside. Nothing. I was so stiff that I could barely walk back to my bed and dial the number for the police. It was as I reached for the phone that I looked at my hands and saw that what was on them was not sweat. It was blood. I checked all over my hands and arms for cuts or injuries. Nothing. And the door handle was completely clean. I washed my hands thoroughly before I dialled 999. The police came and they listened patiently to my story. They checked all around my house, but there were no signs of any intruder. All the windows and doors were still firmly locked and there was no sign of forced entry, nor had any of my possessions been taken or even moved. The officers assured me it was no problem, that they were happy to help, all in that tone that told me they thought I was just a senile old man hearing things in the night. I thanked them as they left, even though they had been of no help whatsoever, and spent the rest of the day searching for the key to my bedroom door. I found it in the end, and hoped that with it firmly locked I could sleep a bit easier that night. I was wrong. When evening came, I tried to sleep. At least, I had convinced myself that I was trying to sleep. Actually, I was listening for any sign that the intruder had returned. Every creak of the house settling, every whine of the pipes sent me into a state of near terror. By two o’clock in the morning I had heard nothing, and had almost convinced myself that I would not be visited again, when there was that slow, ominous creak of the floorboard at the top of the stairs. As before, the footsteps approached my bedroom, heavy and methodical. I turned on my bedside lamp and watched as once again the handle of the door began to turn. I could see the pressure being put on the door by whoever was on the other side, but it was locked, and as the door failed to open, there was a long pause.

Yo, I've always lived in a house full of people. Even the sound of the front door opening in the middle of the night doesn't always freak me out. My dad has always worked strange hours so he'll often come home in the middle of the night. He's due to come home at around 3 in the morning tomorrow. This episode does not help my weariness at moving out in the future😅

11:30 this is why everyone needs a bigass dog. They don't care if it's a violent intruder, a teenager messing with you, or a figment of your imagination: they'll Bork it regardless. They'll charge into an empty room or a room full of burglars with the same manic energy if you tell the dog "get em!" They're gonna get got whether they're real or wether you've simply lost your mind. They're good boys.

I guess im not sleeping tonight

That man is my spirit animal, bc when there's a noise in the dark I also make it clear there's only enough space for one entity in _this_ apartment and I was here first so it can SCRAM

2:39 This bit really hits for me; I have to deal with Paranoia and Hallucinations, so when I moved into my current flat with its shitty paper-thin boundaries, something I thought might worsen things actually helped a great deal! You think that's footsteps in the living room? Nah, just neighbours up for a 3am shift

I work nightshifts at a small hotel. I'm glad I stumbled on this podcast during covid quarantine at home rather than during workdays. Because my home never sleeps with me going to bed just before my family wakes up and it feels alive, while the hotel dies when all the guests go to sleep and with the "right" mood it can feel somewhat creepy

This is my first listen threw of TMA, I saw a video on tiktok about Jon and how pleasant his voice is while the actual story stresses you which creates an odd feeling of unease yet calm, and I’m so glad I’ve started listening. I can’t wait to find out more about the story

Paul's son does have a statement, but it comes a lot later in the podcast. For anyone wondering

*reads title* NOT STURDY ENOUGH

The first "Diane" mentioned is an asian woman living on em place at episode 18 (the man upstairs).

Well, I WAS gonna watch one more before heading to bed, but I am NOT ending on this one....I’m usually good with most types of horror. I can watch things like The Thing, Quiet Place, Invisible Man, etc and not have an issue because I know stuff like that is fake or embellished to the point of unrealistic. But I CANNOT do home-invasion stuff. It freaks me out. Most of this series is fantastic and I love listening to it, but this is a bit too...real, I guess?

Im still sometimes a little surprised when I go back to season one and its all just there, neat as you please, laid out for you to see. Not every single detail means something, but most of them do, and they have ever since season one episode one. If youre a first time listener, keep going, it will make sense.

It amazes me that every episode sounds like a universe of their own.

"Perhaps this job is making me sentimental. . . . . . . *hysterical laughter*

Door Opens Slowly.. HELLO WE’VE BEEN TRYING TO REACH YOU ABOUT YOUR CARS EXTENDED WARRANTY

This man needs a fan. Or any source of white noise.

I did not expect to be called out in this way. Convincing myself I'm trying to sleep while paranoidly listening for sounds in the night is my status quo.

Everyone said that if you had a fear the magnus archives has an episode on it and I thought surely not me because mine is so obscure.... I have a fear of broken locks 💀

I didn't even know I had this much of a fear to hearing things during the night, while I'm trying to sleep, and knowing that no one else in the house could be making them... Now I'm about to continue my binge-watching of TMA, this time with the light turned on cause I prefer to be a coward than to be harassed by a sinister spirit that relishes on exploiting my paranoia 👍

my grandma has recently started going on about seeing people in her room and we always reassure her that it's not possible but now I'm low-key starting to get worried

Poor guy, I wonder if he actually died from a stroke or the entity got to him. I love how there could be scientific explanation but there is something that can't be explained.

Why did he not try to sleep in another room and see if the ghost was interested in him or the room

As a first time listener my advice for living alone is just blame it on a ghost it usually helps. If I hear a growl in the night or a glass shatter and nothings there just blame it on the hallway demon. If it hasn’t killed me yet then it probably won’t kill me. Also get a pet and if noise continues to get closer hide under you blanket put earbuds in and start talking to whatever you think is there like an old friend like how are you doing hallway demon been a few months since the last time you messed with me did you think I forgot about you? It will make intruders think you are crazy or entity’s think you just aren’t scared of them

"...the bedroom door, to which Mr. McKenzie refers so often, does not appear to have a keyhole, or any sort of lock." those are the little details that are really... spooky. Like. What? What is the meaning of this? Were there really a lock or did the old man conjured a lock with his imagination to safe himself? Though it's not like it helped him (or maybe it did, the thing didn't get him and the man just... genuinely dies of the stress- and grief-induced stroke?..

This is the episode that made me stop listening to TMA on the bed at night, genuenly couldn't sleep

Knock knock. Who is there. No, come on. Who is there? Um, anyone? Gulp...

*Me reading the description of the video before going in* O H G O O D I E

I am not scared of much but this episode still gives me anxiety, even after however many years and however many relistens Home intrusions are just..uhg. im so intensly afraid of someone being in my house who isnt supposed to be there that sometimes i don't even trust my family. Especially when i was younger id think they were aliens thatd come to kill me lmao. Ok typing out this comment makes me realize i should not be telling you, dear comment section of the archives, but instead someone who can actually help

Did he die of a stroke, or did he fail to lock the door-with-no-keyhole 😩

As someone who lives alone and often worries about people breaking in and will sometimes lie awake at night thinking I just heard someone open my front door, this is going to give me all kinds of nightmares

of all the episodes that I’ve listened to since starting my journey, this one broke me just a little 🥺🥺

"it was as a reached for the phone that i looked at my hands and saw that what was on was not sweat" me: haha what if its blood "it was blood" me: holy shit (btw having blood or like cuts on your body without realizing is a big mood)

Im just imagining if this man had a smartphone and started recording but everytime he did it stopped and he just keeps going back and forth and yelling at the ghost to choose one

Oh god no, one of my biggest fears is intruders... And now I'm reading that this episode was released on my birthday, aaaaah

it's 1am rn and the room I'm in does not have a door wtf, why did I think now would be a good time to listen to TMA

I'm well over thirty now, but the small child in me seconds getting a pet as a way of explaining odd noises at your place _so hard_

I am a bit of a night owl, and after listening to a few more episodes of this podcast I have some things to do in poorly lit, big rooms while everyone else is asleep. This episode will not have helped with my peace of mind (I literally heard my mum’s steps as I wrote those last words and almost had a heart attack, lol). Another factor in my rising anxiety is likely going to be the fact that the firewood in my living room ALWAYS creaks. Writing this here makes me feel slightly better about it, but I know I’ll still be scared walking around later.

One of the interpretations I got from it is that the locked door is in his mind aka the Thing is trying to get into his consciousness or to snatch his soul, not physically come and get him. That’s why no proof manifested physically: it did happen “in his head”, but it was paranormal.

this is the one episode so far we truly regret listening to before bed.

First time listener, and so far this was the episode that sent the most chills down my spine, wow. I love this

So was his wufe any how involved.or not that's the question. I like to believe that she did and tried to protect him

Uff. that one appears to be my fear, thank you for letting me know TMA...

Spoilers / / / / / / / To other re-watchers, which entity was this? I’m guessing possibly Micheal, given the ‘people think I’m crazy’ and a door that doesn’t exist, but idk

[CLICK] ARCHIVIST Statement of Paul McKenzie, regarding repeated nocturnal intrusions into his home. Original statement given August 24th, 2003. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins. ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT) It’s strange to live alone. Maybe not if you’re used to it, I suppose. If you’ve lived a solitary life then I’m sure it doesn’t feel so isolated or empty. Heck, I remember a time when I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid at living on my own. But now I’m so used to having other people in the house that it’s a sad, lonely existence I’ve found myself living. Even before I started having my nightly visitor. My son Marcus moved out about two years ago, and before that he’d spent a lot of time away at university or, later, moving around because of his work. So I’d grown accustomed to his absence. But when Diane, my wife, passed away four months ago it has… left the place so terribly hollow. I tell myself that it was a mercy, that by the end her condition meant she wasn’t able to live as she deserved to. And while I’m sure it’s true, the sentiment does little to make the bed seem anything other than far too large for just me. She’d hate me saying that. Diane never had any time for mopers or people who wallowed in self-pity, but after forty years of marriage I think I’ve earned it. The thing about living in a house full of people is that you can just ignore any noises that you hear in the night. Is that a creak on the stairs? It’s probably just someone going down for a glass of water. What was that thump? Probably Marcus up too late, and accidentally knocking things off the table. I know it doesn’t actually make you less likely to be robbed or broken into, but you stop panicking about it every time you hear the slightest noise from outside your room. I think that’s normal, at least. I’ve never considered myself to have a nervous disposition, but maybe other people just get on with things and don’t worry so much. Still, since Diane died my nights have become a constant vigil. No house is silent if you listen hard enough, and since ending up alone, I have been listening so hard that at points I have to remind myself to breathe. Now every soft groan of the settling house is the sound of some violent thug or burglar in my home, waiting to see if they need to kill me. Marcus has suggested I get a pet so the house doesn’t feel so empty, but I’ve never had a pet before, and I’m too old to learn now. Given how alert and paranoid I generally am when trying to sleep in an empty house, I’m sure you can imagine my terror when I heard something outside my room one night about a month ago. I’ve lived in the same house since I married Diane, and I know every squeaky floorboard. It was the one just at the top of the stairs. I waited, desperately straining my ears to hear any other sound of movement. I had heard no windows break or doors open downstairs, and I definitely hadn’t heard anyone coming up the stairs, but I was convinced there was someone there. I could feel their presence waiting on the landing. Had they realised how loud the floorboard was? Were they stood there, motionless, listening for any movement from me just as keenly as I was listening for them? Then the sound came again, and I was sure there was someone stood at the top of the stairs, but rather than staying there, I began to hear the heavy tread of what was unmistakably footsteps. At first I… simply lay there, paralysed with fear, thinking that I would just… stay, let them take anything they wanted from the house, and call the police once they had left. But from what I could make out they didn’t seem to be going into any of the other rooms. They were slowly, and deliberately, walking towards my bedroom. The door does have a lock on it, but it’s been so long since I even thought to use it that, at the time, I couldn’t even think where the key might have been. My heart almost stopped when I heard the door handle rattle ever so gently as a hand was placed upon the other side. And slowly, so painfully slowly, the doorknob began to turn. In a burst of adrenaline I didn’t even know I was capable of, I sprang out of the bed and across the room. I seized the handle and twisted it back the other way, using both hands to try and match the strength of whoever was on the other side. Still the handle tried to turn, with a slow, relentless effort that spoke of patience and determination, but sheer panic lent me equal strength. My hands began to grow wet with what I assumed, at the time, was sweat, and I worried about keeping my grip. I did, though. For twenty long minutes, I wrestled in the dark over the door handle of my room. I could have reached the light switch, but that would have meant having only one hand to keep on the door, so I stayed in the dark. Then all at once the pressure vanished. The handle no longer tried to turn. I had heard no other sound from outside, though. No footsteps leading away, no sound of someone going down the stairs, the house was just silent. I stood there for the rest of the night, the handle gripped tight. And it wasn’t until the first rays of sun peeked through the windows that I found I had the courage to open my bedroom door and look outside. Nothing. I was so stiff that I could barely walk back to my bed and dial the number for the police. It was as I reached for the phone that I looked at my hands and saw that what was on them was not sweat. It was blood. I checked all over my hands and arms for cuts or injuries. Nothing. And the door handle was completely clean. I washed my hands thoroughly before I dialled 999. The police came and they listened patiently to my story. They checked all around my house, but there were no signs of any intruder. All the windows and doors were still firmly locked and there was no sign of forced entry, nor had any of my possessions been taken or even moved. The officers assured me it was no problem, that they were happy to help, all in that tone that told me they thought I was just a senile old man hearing things in the night. I thanked them as they left, even though they had been of no help whatsoever, and spent the rest of the day searching for the key to my bedroom door. I found it in the end, and hoped that with it firmly locked I could sleep a bit easier that night. I was wrong. When evening came, I tried to sleep. At least, I had convinced myself that I was trying to sleep. Actually, I was listening for any sign that the intruder had returned. Every creak of the house settling, every whine of the pipes sent me into a state of near terror. By two o’clock in the morning I had heard nothing, and had almost convinced myself that I would not be visited again, when there was that slow, ominous creak of the floorboard at the top of the stairs. As before, the footsteps approached my bedroom, heavy and methodical. I turned on my bedside lamp and watched as once again the handle of the door began to turn. I could see the pressure being put on the door by whoever was on the other side, but it was locked, and as the door failed to open, there was a long pause. Then it began to turn violently back and forth, rattling and banging as it rotated with such force that I worried it might come off entirely. I let out a cry as the assault intensified, and phoned again for the police. It took them twelve minutes to reach me, and all the while my bedroom door shook with the relentless turning of the handle, but the lock held firm. As soon as the doorbell rang, it went immediately still and silent. I didn’t want to unlock and open the door, but if I didn’t the police officers might break down my front door or, even worse, leave. What happened next was almost identical to what had happened the day before, except this time there was less gentle tolerance in their voices when they spoke to me. I got the clear impression that if I called them again without proof, there would be… undesirable consequences. One of the two muttered something about how difficult it must be for me to live on my own, a message I got loud and clear. I have no intention of being put in a home.

I recently discovered this podcast a day or so ago and have been binge listening to it ever since, its incredibly well written and i have been talking off my family's ears about it.

As a child growing up near the capital of the state I live (SP - Brazil), and always catching glimpses in the news about and those sensationalists news programs, my worst fear during night time would be that someone would enter our home at night and rob us of everything or worse, that someone would sneak into my room and kidnap or something. Finally an episode that was about one of my worst fears, as everyone says in the comments of every episode.

Does anybody else get really tempted to skip ahead to the titles they find the most interesting? I mean, not saying that the others aren't, but man, "Hive" and "Anatomy Class" sound like they're gonna be bonkers. :D

This is my first time listening through. I saw a tiktok from what I'm assuming is the latest season about Nikola Osoloph I was like what is this?! Sounds interesting. Well here I am several days into binge listening.

I just started listening during lockdown and I'm genuinely enjoying listening! While it is hard to keep track of names and dates, its something interesting to listen to while doing school work

"I would like to inform you about you cars extended warranty!"

I dont get scared of these much usually (at least not yet), but this one gave me a little chill when talking about the face on the wall. Facinating as usual and really considering a notebook or smth to keep track of names

A gun with a flashlight attachment and a cat takes care of most physical and supernatural problems.

I still cant get over the fact that the head archevist is named Jhonny Sims

"I'm not entirely made of stone"

This episode started off feeling like it could be one of my hypnagogic hallucinations during sleep paralysis. I hope my brain doesnt actually bring this shit to life

Late to this I know but I believe what was happening may be that the creature was.. death. Every night he fought not to die and in the end the creature got in.

Why not film the door knob turning with your cell? I mean, hours of footage of a violently shaking doorknob would be SOMETHING.

It's funny but I've recently been hearing a lot of weird noises in and outside my room. However we have been having building work so I can put it off to being that... haha...

i have trypophobia and this hive thing is driving me maaaaaad

Really liked the Fuan no Tane energy this one has, loving the series so far 🙏

Plot twist: it was all in his head...

i can excuse waking up and holding the door/grabbing a weapon if you hear a LOUD noise, but if i had to listen to the slightest creek every night, id rather die. thats an obvious gateway to sleeplessness and paranoia. even if theres a one in a million chance that the quiet noise will be a burglar, and not neighbours at their place or creekking wood (which creeks on its own), unless youre winning the lottery then the sleeplessness will be so much worse of a consequence. frankly id rather live a life where id be dissapointed if the burglar did come to me, than be dissapointed when he *doesn't*.

Silence is a very important part of almost every episode...

Fears scaring an old man just because smh

First time listening through (this being my first horror podcast ever) and I’m fascinated, let’s see what happens

I hate myself for listening to this at 3am alone

why in the world would he deleted the footage ToT even if it was scary❕

As soon as they mentioned sweat I was like 'thats bl00d'

Dark? Spiral? maybe?

I first thought that it was a sleep paralysis demon but i am not sure now

that was just Micheal playing around