Wrong Station

//WHEN EVERYTHING IS SPEED & RUSHING LIGHT

//WHEN YOUR BODY ISN'T EVEN YOUR OWN

//WHAT WILL YOU DO FOR...

"THE FEELING OF CONTROL"

A TALE OF MIGHTY ENGINES FROM... THE WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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The boys yet again answer for their sins, and answer listener questions about "Mother's Milk" in this behind the scenes teaser!

--Full discussion available at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation, along with bonus episodes, our Grimoire Club, and more! The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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// YOU CAN LEARN THE SECRET WORDS TO ANCIENT CHANTS

// PLAY DESCANTS ON THE HYMNAL OF THE BARDS

// BRUSH LYRE-STRINGS TO MAKE THE WATERS DANCE

// AND KETTLE-DRUMS TO BREAK THE MOUNTAIN INTO SHARDS

// IT STILL WON’T MAKE YOU….

""THE SONGMASTER!""

A NEW THRENODY, FROM THE WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU’LL SEE 

//ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

//SOME MEN FIND GOD, SOME ART

“ROADSIDE ATTRACTION”

A NEW DISTRACTION FROM WRONG STATION

--Written and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//THIRTY THOUSAND BODIES FLOATING

//IN THE WAKE OF YOUR BID FOR THE THRONE

//THAT’S SOME BAIT, FOR SOME BIG FISH.

"PORPHYRIOS"

A NEW TALE OF THE SEA, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A SERVANT, CHEMICALLY-ALTERED TO LOVE COMPLETELY

//A MASTER, BLIND TO HIS OWN INSANITY

//HUSH LITTLE BABY

//IT’LL ALL BE OKAY, JUST DRINK SOME OF…

“MOTHER’S MILK” a tale of madness from Wrong Station.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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1969. HUMAN EXPERIMENT

2005. A PROGRAM OF TORTURE

1958. WASTELAND, CALIFORNIA

ALL THIS AND MORE IS JUSTIFIED, BY…

“THE KINDS OF THREATS WE’RE FORCED TO DEAL WITH.”

A TRUE TALE OF AMERICAN EMPIRE, FROM THE WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A RACE WITHOUT END

//TOTAL DARK, TOTAL WHITE

//NOTHING FOR IT BUT TO KEEP MOVING

//TO ESCAPE FROM…

THE “SNOWRUNNER”

A NEW EPISODE OF WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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A preview of our in-depth on that most reviled, most putrescent episode... "Vermis"

APOCALYPSE WORM. THE TRIAL OF ALEXANDER.

--Full discussion available at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation, along with bonus episodes, our Grimoire Club, and more! The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//WHO NEEDS THREE WISE MEN

//WHEN YOU HAVE FOUR HORRIBLE TALES?

““SNIPLY HAVING A SNIPDERFUL SNIPSMASTIME””

A COLLECTION OF FESTIVE HOLIDAY SNIPS

FROM OL’ SAINT THE WRONG STATION

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel and Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation. The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//HE, A KNIGHT OF VIOLENT RENOWN

//SHE, IMPERIAL AND UNTOUCHABLE

//I SHALL TELL YOU OF THEIR LOVE

//BLOODY AND BRIEF

I SHALL TELL YOU THE LAY OF...

"TALAUDINE et IPHÈME"

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation. The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A CHILD IN DANGER, AND MOTHER TOO

//WE MUST FEND IT OFF

//WE MUST FEED IT BLOOD

//WE MUST FEED THE...

“PLACENTA”

A NEW EPISODE FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation. The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//YOU'VE BEEN HAVING TROUBLE SLEEPING

//BUT DO NOT FEAR

//WE WILL GIVE YOU REST

//WE WILL GIVE YOU DREAMS

“SLEEP SERVICE”

A LULLABY, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation. The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A CURSE THAT PASSES DOWN THE GENERATIONS

//A FATHER DESPERATE TO SAVE HIS CHILD

//THE TRUTHS YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ARE HIDDEN IN OLD…

“FAMILY PHOTOS”

A REFURBISHED CLASSIC, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation. The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A GREENHOUSE FOR… UNUSUAL PLANTS

//A REEKING DUMPSTER BY THE RAVINE OUT BACK

//AND THAT’S NOT THE SOUND OF WIND IN THE…

“AUTUMN TREES”

A FURTHER HORTICULTURAL INVESTIGATION FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation. The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//OLD TRADITIONS IN A COLD NEW LAND

//TRINKETS BAKED INTO WARM BREAD

//BUT WHAT COMES OUT ISN’T ALWAYS WHAT YOU THINK YOU PUT IN

“BARMBRACK”

A NEW EPISODE FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Oliver Smith. Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation. The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//SOME PEOPLE JUST DON'T LIKE HALLOWEEN

//THE PUMPKINS, SKULLS, AND WITCHES' BOOTS

//BUT THAT'S ALRIGHT

//HALLOWEEN DOESN'T LIKE YOU EITHER

“SKULL HUNT”

A NEW SEARCH FROM WRONG STATION

***Auditory warning: DO NOT use for sleep aid***

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation. The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//HOW CAN A SOUL SURVIVE SO MUCH SUCCESS?

//WHAT CAN YOU DO WHEN YOUR FISH BECOME TOO BIG?

//WHAT CAN YOU DO BUT FEED THEM EVEN MORE?

STEP OUT ONTO TEEMING WATERS IN...

“ALL HOGS”

A LESSON IN AQUACULTURE, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho. Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation. The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//THE EMPEROR REQUIRES AN ARMY

//A SWORD TO CARRY OUT HIS WILL

//WE MUST FIND THEM

//WE MUST CREATE...

"THE PERFECT SOLDIER"

A RECIPE, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//EVERYBODY'S LOOKING FOR THE RIGHT PERSON

//SOMETIMES THAT PERSON'S LOOKING FOR YOU TOO

//SOMETIMES THE RIGHT PERSON HAS THE WRONG REASONS

“JUST SWIPE LEFT”

A MEDITATION ON MODERN LOVE FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//THE SAME STREETCAR EVERY DAY

//THE SAME WOMAN & SAME BAG OF TRASH

//WONDER WHAT SHE'S GOT IN THERE, OR IF YOU EVEN WANT TO KNOW

“GARBAGE BAG”

A NEW EPISODE FROM WRONG STATION

--Written and performed by Alexander Saxton.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//NOBODY WANTS A REGISTRY

//EVERYBODY JUST WANTS CASH

//BUT SOMETIMES, YOUR FAMILY HAS OTHER IDEAS

“JUST GIVE CASH”

A NEW EPISODE FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//FIVE ACTIVISTS DISCOVER

//THE HARD LIMITS OF PEACEFUL PROTEST

//FOR THEM, THE ANTHROPOCENE ISN'T THE ONLY...

"EXTINCTION EVENT"

A NEW SLASHER FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//EVERYBODY NEEDS A HOBBY

//EVERYBODY MOVES ON TO SOMETHING NEW

//BUT ALL THOSE THINGS YOU'VE LEFT BEHIND, AREN'T ALWAYS DONE WITH YOU

“PLANT MOM"

A LESSON IN HORTICULTURE, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Jacquie Martin.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A CARPETBAGGER IN A QUAINT TOWN

//SOMETHING NASTY IN THE WOODS OUT BACK

//HEAD DOWN TO THE STORE AND SEE IF THEY HAVE ANY...

“AXES”

A NEW EPISODE OF WRONG STATION

--Written by Mary Gillis, and performed by Marta Da Silva.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A CHANCE DISCOVERY

//A BLOODY PAST

//NOT ALL SUBURBS ARE QUIET

//SOMETIMES THE SCREAMS ARE JUST MUFFLED

"THE SWORD"

A NEW FAIRYTALE FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A WEALTHY GENIUS, A RUINED MARRIAGE, AND A TERRIBLE CREATION

//WHAT REMAINS FROM A LIFE YOU CAN’T MAKE YOURSELF REGRET?

//AND WHAT SINS WILL YOU COMMIT FOR…

“A LITTLE BIT OF COMPANY”

A NEW EPISODE FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//THE GREATEST HARDCORE SHOW THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN

//WILL BE VISITED BY SOMEONE

//UNUSUAL

//DISCOVER WHO MOSHES AMONG US IN...

"THE PIT"

A NEW EPISODE FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A RESPITE FROM APOCALYPSE

//HUMANITY’S FINAL HOPE

//A BILLIONAIRE AND HIS 100 GENETICALLY PERFECT CLONES

//WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?

“MONOCULTURE”

A NEW STORY FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//CAN AN ANONYMOUS COMMISSION CHANGE THE LIFE OF ONE ARTIST?

//AND IF IT DOES...

//WILL IT BE FOR THE BETTER

//OR WORSE?

"COMMISSIONS ARE NOW CLOSED"

AN ARTFUL NEW EPISODE FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//SALT FLATS, DESERT HEAT, A NOT-QUITE-ABANDONED GAS STATION

//SOMETIMES YOU GOT TO STOP FOR DARTS

//SOMETIMES YOU COME AWAY WITH A LITTLE BIT MORE

“DARTS”

A NEW EPISODE FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//AN ORDINARY AFTERNOON AT THE CAFE

//WHEN YOU REALIZE THE WORLD IS SUBTLY BROKEN

//WHO WOULD BOTHER LOSING THEIR MIND,

//OVER SOMETHING SO UNIMPORTANT?

“BLACK DOVE”

THE NEW EPISODE FROM WRONG STATION.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//THERE COMES A POINT

//WHERE EVEN PERSPECTIVE LOSES PERSPECTIVE

//IF YOU GAZE THAT DEEP

//WHAT THEN SHALL YOU SEE?

“ANGULAR DIAMETER DISTANCE”

A FRESH VISTA, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//SEEKING DISTRACTION

//ONE FINDS NEW PURPOSE

//IT MAY SEEM LIKE TOO MUCH, BUT...

"THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN TRAINING MY BODY FOR"

A CAUTIONARY TALE, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A FORBIDDEN COLOUR

//A FATEFUL GIFT

//YOU CAN LIVE WITH A LOT

//BUT YOU'VE DONE SO MUCH MORE

//TOUCH THE CRUMBLING PAINT IN...

“SCHEELE'S GREEN”

A NEW MEDITATION, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//THANKSGIVING, WITH THE WHOLE FAMILY

//AN UNCLE JUST RETURNED FROM FOREIGN LANDS

//AND GODDAMN HE'S BROUGHT SOMETHING BACK WITH HIM

WHAT YOU KILL KEEPS YOU IN...“RHINO”

A NEW EPISODE, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A WEALTHY GERMAPHOBE

//AN UNTHINKABLE TROPICAL DISEASE

//THE CLEAN AND THE UNCLEAN

//ARE A WHITE SERPENT DEVOURING ITS OWN TAIL

PERHAPS OUR MOST VILE EPISODE OF ALL TIME

“VERMIS”

A FRESH CRIME, FROM WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Rachel Hart.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A REMOTE ISLAND

//THERE'S HOWLING IN THE WOODS AT NIGHT

//AND THESE AREN'T JUST ORDINARY...

“DOGS”

A NEW EPISODE OF WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A RING FOR A WEDDING

//POINT 999% PURE

//BUT SOME IMPURITIES CAN STAIN EVEN ELEMENTAL GOLD

“.999”

A LESSON IN METALLURGY, FROM WRONG STATION.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//THE RUINS OF A THRIVING WORLD

//A LONE WANDERER WITH ALLOY TEETH

//IT DOESN’T MATTER IF YOU HAVE A PURPOSE

//AS LONG AS YOU HAVE…

“BITEFORCEQUOTIENT”

A NEW EPISODE OF WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//THE BOARD MEETS

//TO DICUSS CHALLENGES FACING THE COMPANY

//CHALLENGES THAT CANNOT BE IGNORED

//NOT EVEN FOR A MOMENT

//OR ELSE

"MEETING MINUTES"

A NEW EPISODE OF WRONG STATION

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//A NEW FRIEND, IN THE STRANGEST OF PLACES

//DISGUST, DECAY, DESPAIR

//COMPANIONSHIP WHERE YOU CAN FIND IT

"HE'S MY FREIND"

A NEW EPISODE OF WRONG STATION

--Written and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station Pledge Drive by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//TELEGRAPHY CABLES, DEEP UNDERSEA

//SPAN THE OCEAN DARKNESS LIKE A SINGING NET

//BUT WHAT SHALL THEY CATCH?

“CABLE”

A NEW EPISODE OF WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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//HALLOWEEN

//A MORAL PANIC

//RAT POISON IN THE RAISINS

//AND ONE MOTHER WILL GO TO ANY LENGTH TO PROTECT HER CHILDREN

“CANDY TAMPERING”

A NEW EPISODE OF WRONG STATION

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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// TOENAILS: THE DEVIL'S FINGERNAIL? // A FATEFUL MEETING // THE GREAT MARTIAL CONTEST OF OUR TIME //

Three unusual tales pulled straight from the highly-exclusive annals of our Patreon. For more stories like this (and many more amusements besides) you can subscribe right now at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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Something is Wrong. Some signal builds upon the aether, worse than ever before. This October, stay tuned for a new episode of Wrong Station, every single night. Thirty-one episodes in thirty-one days.

Follow along for more screeling updates on Twitter, Instagram, BlueSky, and Tumblr and support our abhorrent, teeming mass at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

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If you enjoy stabbing/being stabbed, this is the interview for YOU!

Stephen Graham Jones is the modern standard-bearer for slashers and all things slashing. He joined us for an in-depth chat about horror technique, remembering your roots after international success, and the perils of making out in a car when there's a killer on the loose.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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This week we're very lucky to have horror filmmaker Brandon Cronenberg on the show! The writer and director behind the wonderfully disturbed "Antiviral", "Possessor", and "Infinity Pool".

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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The first in a new Summer series of interviews with some fine folks in the horror space! We kick things off with the prince of putrescent portraiture: Trevor Henderson.

Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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She walked alone.

Maybe she knew she wasn’t supposed to, in a part of town like this; and maybe she’d been raised to think it improper for a Young Lady to go unaccompanied in any part of town, no matter how respectable. But she went alone. She loved to feel the cool of the spring breeze coming off the rain-damp bricks. She loved to feel the hard echo of her boots in those silent, godless galleries.

And one night, she came across a Goblin.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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My anxieties were not reflected in the other men. You had to be a little bit crazy to walk those beams. I recognized myself in many of them—my pre-fall self. Being a part of something important, that was all they wanted. That, and the money that proved their involvement.

But Whitley… his relationship to the tower was unique.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation.

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People like me were lucky enough to live inside the fences. I, for example, was lucky enough to be born a slave. I know how that sounds... But in the world in which we lived a slave was just about the best thing you could hope to be. It meant you got to live among the angels.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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Rob shook his head, sighing, wiping his face with his hands. “Well isn’t that just somethin’. Jesus Chris. Never even occurred to me they wouldn’t a told ya. What a crock a shit. It’s really not fair to you, even if you are some shitty downtown whiner.” He leaned forward.

“I’m talkin about the feud, Owen. The feud.”

“Excuse me?”

He sighed, took a swig of coffee, settled in.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Anthony Botelho.

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At the sight of the great grey hog, the girls all squealed and rushed forward to rub her meaty flanks and pet her furrowed, piggy brow. All except Anne, who held back, feeling somehow suddenly embarrassed. Ill-at-ease. The memory of last night’s pork chops at the forefront of her mind. Slowly, the pig raised its heavy head and stared at her. Looked her directly in the eyes, with bitter intelligence.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, and performed by Zoe Lee.

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You know? I never quite knew what to make of that.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Jacob Duarte Spiel, and Anthony Botelho.

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She loved to get lost in those films. The colours, strange music, grainy texture of black-gloved hands pressing into smooth bare flesh. The bright, surreal flow of blood. She sat alone in her room with lights off and earbuds in, drinking in that other world. Feasting on it. That saturated, seventies otherland of vice and sin and madness, so unlike the grey little world she knew.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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"If we wait nobody’ll ever catch him, what with all his army training. The Mountie station is two days ride in the other direction. By then the tracks will be gone. There’s no choice. We’ve got to run him down.”

And as he said it, I couldn’t help but notice a whisper of excitement in his voice.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel

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“There are ways of making this more interesting, you know.”

He licked dry lips. “Go on.”

“You’re not supposed to bet on the games. You can get banned. But everyone does."

--Written by Alexander Saxton

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Dozens of mounds erected to the dead: all slightly pointed, all silent under the low thick sky. The air still within this cul-de-sac of stone; the drab grass drifting only seldom in a sluggish breeze.

No howling voices today.

Yet still Mugg-Medias thought he felt the stifling, staring presence of the dead.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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Mihail leaned forward. The red light of the candle bled up over both our faces. “Well then I’ll keep speaking your language, if you’ll survive. Have you ever heard of the ‘Devshirme System’?”

“It sounds electrifying.”

“Also sometimes called the ‘Ottoman Blood Tax?’”

--Written by Alexander Saxton. Performed by Marta da Silva.

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Those white… flakes, they fall down. On this winter night, this cold, cold winter night, the White drifts gently down to blanket me. Each inhalation of it burns my insides worse, cuts me like icy glass.

And he looks down. It looks down, white too. No face, though I know it’s saying ‘I tried to warn you.’

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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“The Oracle of Canada.” One of the great guiding lights of Canadian contemporary art. Tragic figure. Welcome to the self-guided audio tour for the 10 year retrospective of the great Eloise Kestrel’s life and work.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel. Special thanks to Isabel Brandt for providing research, writing support, and additional material for this episode.

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It had to be some sort of boutique. A specialty shop. Secret, hyper-exclusive, a speakeasy of lingerie. That light on every night, and the changing silks that crawled up plastic thighs in the window. It had to be.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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A cutman isn't really a doctor, and it’s not really medicine. On the contrary; you’re patching your guy up so you can send him out there to get hurt some more. But nothing that they didn’t sign up for.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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Holidays shift and change over time, evolve, mutate one might say. Halloween is no different.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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“Jane,” she said, “when the next train comes, you will check to make sure it’s normal, and then you will get on it.” Normal? But the man- “Wait for the next train. And stay on the line with me while you wait, it’s important that you stay on the line. It’s safer.”

--Written by Mary Gillis, and performed by Rachel Hart.

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Finally, after a few weeks, Saul posted about his condition in the general board. It was a short post, written without capitalization, almost like he didn’t want anyone to think it was a big deal. I read his symptoms. Re-read them. I whispered them to myself, almost giddy. I was his only reply. I wrote: “I think you should join the Hidden board.”

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel

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Season 7 is here. The future of podcasting... is here.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel

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Some scraps to tide you over amidst this horrible, truly horrible Summer famine.

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For the last few rounds, the Witch Machine had been making a slight groan. But now that groan turned into a whine and an ominous rattle. We all recoiled as the whine rose to a moan and then a keening howl. Sometimes mechanical-sounding, sometimes almost human.

--Written by Alexander Saxton

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Three stories. Three worlds. One truth.

Featuring "NAM-LU-GAL, which means KINGSHIP," "The Crack in Everything," and "Manna From Heaven."

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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“Mr Carter,” he began, tossing down a manila file folder. “Do you know who I am and why I’m here?”

“You’re the Shrink.” Carter didn’t make eye-contact. “You’re here because the Judge wants to know if I’m crazy.”

At least he was lucid, the Shrink thought. It made for a pleasant change of pace.

--Written by Alexander Saxton

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I turned off the light on my phone and sat there, down in that space. In the utter blackness, in the cool, hidden from the pressures of the world. There were no draining bank accounts down there, no stalled careers, no worlds spinning out into madness and loss. There was nothing. And that was a relief. Down there it was safe, contained, cool... empty.

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Anthony Botelho

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“Sleipnir,” I said. It was the name of the Ghost Ship we were out there trying to find. “Sleipnir. I’m not sure I like it.”

“Your instincts serve you well,” said our own Ship, it's voice like lightning sizzling over distant hills. “It is an evil name."

--Written by Alexander Saxton

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Rip, peel, puncture... Wrench, boil, burn...

When Fado worked, the troubling dreams - if they were dreams - seemed to vanish. 

So Fado, the greatest torturer in the Holy Searchers, worked as much as he could.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel

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‘Welcome to Dastra, Let’s get you organized.’I hit ‘next’.‘Allow Dastra to access your other devices?’I chewed my lip. I didn’t like the idea, but what was the use? Data privacy was dead anyway. I hit ‘allow’ on the following stream of notifications.‘Great! You’re all set up. Now let’s get you productive.’On the word ‘productive’, my phone made a little chiming sound. The sound made my brain feel nice.

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Margaret Rose.

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"Like a Goddess of the sea, she raised her pearled hand, and with her gesture came a rising wave that darkened as it grew until it hit the shore and burst; and from the wave the Lathe-Worm howled forth." The final chapter of this short series.

--Written by Alexander Saxton

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The fog grew thick, and soon his only guide through the white void was the sound of running water up ahead. And now his foot rang not against soft loam, but hard, polished stone. As he knelt, he felt the cool touch of marble.

 “Welcome.”

The voice spoke from the belly of the mists ahead, from close to that sound of running water. It was not human. Its vibrations buzzed along his brainstem.

--Written by Alexander Saxton

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In a place like this the fog might thicken in a minute, and then could last for days or months, or never end at all. How many others had set off with a light heart, into the mist and shadow of the Dimness Fens, never again to return? How many sets of bones were black’ning in the bogs; how many sleeping bodies were preserved beneath the still and pine-steeped waters of its sumps and sloughs?

--Written by Alexander Saxton

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“I’d like to wake up please," she said. "How do I wake up? I don’t like how this feels.”

“It’s normal to feel a little bit off at first," he tried to assure her. "It took me a couple days to get the hang of it.”

“I want to wake up: please, help me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t let you wake up right now.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton

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Just listen to those bells. They ring for peace. They ring for glad tidings. They ring for pushing the pain down, deep down, and for leftover sausage meat. 'Tis a beautiful time of year.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel

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It was in the Maestro’s studio, all lit up golden and dark with the golden-hour light that streamed through its wide-arched window, that the Maestro asked Dulcamara to kill a man, for what would be the final time.“Of course Maestro,” The apprentice replied. “Shall it be the Dagger or the Poisoned Chalice?”

--Written by Alexander Saxton

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It sat there, under the light. The Egg. Huge, murky and amber. It seemed firm, but still sagged just a bit where it sat. Whatever was inside—if there was anything inside at all—wasn’t clear. The golden casing and yellow-red liquid inside were too opaque to see through.

--Written by Anthony Botelho and performed by Liz Der.

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I knew then that it didn’t matter that the black mask gave no indication, no inkling of any emotion. The Harlequin was aware of my presence and, in some way, its attention was entirely directed at me. The thing was performing, but not for my... entertainment.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel

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We've got sad ghost, mad ghost, not-a-child, big-ass skeleton, and *horrible* German man. Everything you need at this time of year. And nothing you want.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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He held up a jar containing a chunk of stone the colour of yellow pollen. Out of it grew a crystal like sunset or ruby grapefruit; striking in colour, yet… repulsive to look at in some way. It was small enough to hold in your hand, but heavy enough that it made his feeble hand shake.

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Rae Bernakevitch.

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One of those nights, huh? Sorry to pry; it just looks like there’s a lot on your mind. And typically when someone’s sitting at the end of the bar—at this bar, this time of night—staring into their drink the way you are, well… that’s usually a sign too.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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It didn't have to be like this—we could have gotten the big old Wrong ball rolling with Season 6 right away—but you vultures just couldn't leave well enough alone.

So here you have it, you jackals, you cretinous imps, you rancid simpletons. Here are your responses to your properly filed FOIA requests.

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Something strange happened during this rewatch. I started to cry. And it wasn’t for the sake of the man in the video. Like I told you: I’d seen him die before. I’d done my part, borne witness. But this time I was crying out of relief. I was crying because the algorithm had served me up something I could handle; something that couldn’t hurt me any more than it already had.

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Anthony Botelho

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He told me he was a type of Latin called a Frank, and that he had sworn his life to the Knights Hospitaller, and within them, to the Order of St. Lazarus.

I noticed he did not eat or drink anything, and that when the wind died away, he had a faint, unpleasant smell of rotten sweetness.

“The Order of Saint Lazarus…” I began.

“Indeed,” he said. “It is composed of lepers.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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It was morning when we got there, barely past dawn, and we had a little surprise waiting for us right there on the road into town. Now, they said that there had been killings happening. But the Agency had spared the details. Or maybe the mining company had—who knows? But this was a little more than just killing.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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“You mean a contest,” he said. A slow, crazed smile spread across Practical’s yellowed teeth. He glanced around the room, as if to reassure himself this was not a dream; it must have been the exact scenario he had fantasized about a thousand times. “Very well then, you have yourself a bet. And may the greatest Artist win.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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The monster knew nothing. And then, to a chorus of gasps, it was born. Its flesh - once rigid, tall, and wooden - had been transformed into thickly-corded muscle and dense chitin. The body that had spent so many years upright now lay along the ground supported by two dozen different legs.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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"No, altogether, people didn’t care too much for young Madeleine Graves, and though I don’t believe I would have much enjoyed spending an evening at the Graves Family dinner table, in the presence of that watchful, grey-eyed child who liked so much to gum at her hair and pick at her scabs, I can’t say it was anything other than a tragedy.

And so, being denied the companionship of people, Madeleine wanted a cat."

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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It began with a deep hum somewhere in the wall behind Samo, and then a tingle of static in the air. “Sail away, sail away, hah...” Doctor Martel said from behind the one-way glass, flicking a series of unseen switches to power up the machine. “Just like falling asleep.”

Only it wasn’t like falling asleep; just falling.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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“There is no escape from the Valley.” That’s what they say, isn’t it? I see how you could believe that. Whatever direction you look, there’s nothing out there but those distant mountains scraping the horizon. And nothing between here and there but scorched wasteland. That, and the Sentries.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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Of course, a denture carved fully from ivory is perfectly serviceable. Even one carved from the harder sorts of wood might suffice for a mere shopkeep. But for the elite, I am assured, there is no substitute for actual, human teeth.

--Written by Alexander Saxton. Performed by Liana Bdéwi and Anthony Botelho.

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How deep could that water be? Calf-deep? Knee-deep? Certainly not much more than that, with all those rocks and jags of rusted metal scraping the underside of the surface. And so it must have been a trick of the current, nothing more, that fooled my eyes into thinking they saw the shadow of something moving under the surface.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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Your questions answered by our team--NOT recorded under duress or threat of Punishment--in this first ever Q&A special.

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Tommy jolted awake. His heart started pounding. There was something, someone up there. He saw the faint glow of a bright red light—could it really be? And as shadows passed over the entry to the port, and a vague shape started lowering itself down, Tommy’s excitement kept building and building, until it was likely to make his chest burst, until... 

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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You could be forgiven for being afraid, Kaisen thought, as she walked alone through the Hall of Bodhisattvas. 

She would never have admitted to such a thing, and she had been brought up to never show any emotion, let alone fear. But even though she had lived at the Monastery for decades, a low dread still clutched at her heart each time she walked through the reddish gloom of that hall.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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He sat up, thinking about the syringes, the figure in the alley, the strange dream with… that thing. It was all too much. He put his hands over his aching eyes, took a deep breath, and made up his mind. He was a sheepdog; he was a man of action. There was something he needed to check on.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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When I began this life I didn’t muse on each hunt for as long as I now do. The morality, the greyness, or the consequences of my actions. Speed was my measure of success; not how clean the job was, whether I was efficient or cruel. It was all a race: to bathe in the blood of beasts and in the peoples’ gratitude.

But now I do muse on them. Which is why I have begun to write this journal.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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Good evening, you sweet little eggs. Tonight we will be reading from the Great Tome of All Hallows' Eve Snippets, Most Horrid and Most Foul: a collection of stories in which bad things happen to bad little children. And good ones too.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel

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I had the overwhelming sense that the threads of my life had permanently snarled together, a tangle of knots and frayed ends that sat between my throat and my heart, impossible to loosen one without tightening another.

I needed an escape. Out East. Out at Cape Spear, and the Cantwell Lighthouse.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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Do you remember the first job you ever had? I imagine you probably do; in no small part because your first job, if you’re like most people, was a shitty one.

Mine was as a prep chef at Pollo Rojo. Sounds easy enough, right? What are we talking about here, chopping onions? Hah. No… not onions.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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He’d slept less than four hours. It was the fifth night in a row. He squeezed his eyes shut. His jaw ached and his throat felt raw, as if he had been screaming. He could feel sleep lurking nearby, but every time he lunged for it, it slithered just beyond his reach.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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It's the arcane knowledge you neither wanted nor asked for. In celebration of an unspecified number, or measure of that number, of Wrong Stations (tm [tongue-in-mouth]), we present your sinners' souls with: THE MOST WRONGE STATION: AN ORAL RECOUNTING MOST HISTORICAL.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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"Fur, fins, scales, wings, legs: they all popped from the surface of the inert matter, as if testing the environment to see what adaptation would be most advantageous. Finding their niche in the constantly changing, radioactive world. I can’t be certain, but I’m not sure anything ever truly dies here."

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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The candle sputtered as bits of badly-rendered fat crackled in the burning tallow. Exhausted from the day’s work, he sat back on his cot, watching the smoke rise like rain in reverse, to pool on the ceiling.

Then something interesting began to happen.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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As a child, I’d loved this forest; maybe because it was where I went to get away from the cottage, and the dark, brooding pressure of my Grandfather’s presence. But something had changed. The woods no longer seemed like a place of reprieve. I felt that I was being… not watched, per se, but noticed, and that it wasn’t a friendly kind of noticing.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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"Year... II? Yes, it must still be. Brother! The pocket watch tells me it is now Prairial, which is strange, one because it is broken, and two, because it is only supposed to tell minutes and hours, not months. Nevertheless, greetings from Chateau Malheur-Infini!"

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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“I have done what you forced me to do,” he said. “I have initiated The Final Snow.”

Even dampened by the snow, she could hear the outraged cry of despair that lifted from a million throats; across the city. He had passed a sentence of death upon them, and in so doing, upon all of humankind. There were no worlds left, and no ships left to go to them.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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Nothing specific about this episode, no no, not at all, oh no no my friends...

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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Has the quarantine madness set in yet? No? Allow us to help you with that.

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“Here’s the place,” she said, and then loitered by the door, impatient for us to get out. The apartment was a little grimy: she hadn’t cleaned up after the previous tenants, but it was nothing objectionable. I only had one question.

“What’s that door in the hallway?”

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Breanna Maloney.

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“I guess I always wanted to be a farmer.” I expected laughter, but instead the silence plunged deeper.

“No,” said the farmer. “You don’t. The vermin, the too-small harvest, the too-big loneliness, up before dawn, asleep after dark. The forces of nature and God bending you to their will. Breaking you. And of course, this part of the country is prone to The Early Frost.”

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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“Sorry, Hannah,” he said. “I forgot you liked horses so much, and didn’t want to hear about them getting lit on fire until their bones showed through. Just be careful, you know? And watch out down by the tracks, too. You know, after what happened to that chick over in Chase. After the accident.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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They arrived at the crime scene, a gorgeous space: plasterwork ceilings illuminated by broad sash windows. A floor of unsurpassed versailles parquetry was disfigured only by the pool of dried blood.

“I do wish the police would allow us to clean that up,” said the Duke.

“It is distasteful, ouais,” said Belanger. “But distasteful things are useful in this line of work.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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A pair of guards bowed low on the other side, and though their weapons were sheathed, he felt a spike of alarm, and nearly struck them with his sword, for both men were deformed, and hideous in his sight.

But though their appearance repulsed him, they spoke elegant Spanish, and welcomed him most courteously.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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The Badalisc is an Epiphany-time tradition, a creature that visits towns and gives a comedic speech where it talks about the town gossip and reveals people’s secrets. There’s singing, dancing, eating, and at the end of it the creature wanders back into the woods.

At least, that’s what I was told it would be like.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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“That… play,” I said. “What did it represent?”

He frowned at me and tilted his head. I repeated the question, but it seemed he’d understood my words, but not their meaning.

“Represent?” he said. “Nay. It represent nowt. Tis just only the Auld Tup.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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At four in the morning, I awoke writhing in pain. It was a hunger like nothing I’d felt up to that point. Like a force of nature. A vacuum needing to be filled.

I tried in vain to sleep, to turn my thoughts away from eating and onto anything else, the blue rose, my future plans, my investment portfolio, literally anything. But it was no use.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel and performed by Melissa Taylor.

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“Your son must be initiated,” said the shaman, Shiao-Duun. “For his sake and yours. You are all too young to remember the hard times, the cold times. But Shiao-Duun is not too young. And I tell you, such times will come again. The tribe will need its sons. The initiation must come.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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“We just sail through.”

And so we did. No flash, no psychedelic effects, it was like walking through a door. On one side, we left behind the world’s largest ocean; on the other, we entered a body of water nearly twice the size.

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Jacquie Martin.

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Fallen leaves swirl beneath the feet of devils, witches, and demons. Flame is put to ten hundred thousand wicks, making faces glow through the dark October night. You crush a sweet thing between your teeth as you wait. You do not know for what but you know it will be unusual.

It must be time for more snips, and it must be time for Halloween.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel. Featuring Anthony Botelho, Joey Graff, Rachel Hart, Alexander Saxton, and Chelsea Jayne Bray.

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Shavash Day came on a cold October morning. Stumbling to the window, I saw people already lining the grey streets, dressed in drab traditional attire, or the Red and Grey of the Caraghian flag. Something that struck me, even from the window, was that nobody looked happy. They all just stood, waiting without anticipation, listening to the music without clapping their hands.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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“But that’s not fair,” she whispered. Her grandmother grinned at her, mouth very wide, long yellow-grey teeth clicking as they met.

“Get used to it,” she said. “It’s an unfair world. You’re going to have to learn that if you want to run the Company someday."

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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It was an hour past sunset, which in this land is earlier than you might think it, when there was a knock on our door. Not abnormal at that hour, but not common. In this land work is best done under what meagre sunlight there is, and the night is best left to its creatures.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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Something Wrong is back.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel

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That’s not to say I ever stopped fearing fish, but by the time I stepped through the doors of the aquarium that fear had been buried under 16 straight years of education and exposure. I thought I had it beat.

But you’re not here for the story of my life. You’re here for the story of the Darkfish.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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“And what do you ask in return?” She said. The Druj shook her head at the question, as though saddened by a small, suspicious mind. “My child,” she said. “Who made you so mistrustful? I ask almost nothing in return. A small inconvenience, and quickly mended.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Ashlie White

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So staring at this painting every day, well, you can imagine the kinds of tricks my mind started playing on me. Or at least, that I thought it was playing on me.

Subtle things at first. I’d let the colours blend, imagine the trees blowing in the wind and the water moving with the tide. It was only four months ago that the... strangeness began.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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But the Hunter was not fazed; if anything, their tawny eyes seemed to catch light. They passed back and forth in front of the dead animal, examining it from many angles, clicking their tongue.

“Do you know,” said the Hunter, turning to their followers. “I think the animal did this on purpose. To frighten us. I think this ‘Tiger’ may be the one we’ve been looking for.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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It was the sort of place with the same number of people in it at 11am and 2am, and often the exact same ones. You could stick your head in the door at noon, and it would already be night inside. The people who drank there had been banished from the day.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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The solitude, on the other hand, was, what’s the word? Palpable. I wasn’t at all prepared for it. They tried to tell us, but it’s something you can’t really understand until you go through it. Knowing you’re 3 trillion klicks away from the closest human. Well, the closest human who isn’t asleep.

--Written by Mary Gillis, and performed by Joey O'Dael and Alexander Saxton.

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I remember even now how our grandmother described the Draugr’s corpse-blue flesh, his long fingernails, and how he crept away at night to gorge on the blood of children in their cradles. But as I say, such tales are no longer encouraged. The Christians say we have eternal life, and dislike the suggestion there is something unnatural about wanting to live forever.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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The meat hissed as it slapped onto the grill, and the Pit Master pressed down with his chrome spatula, not hard enough to release the juices, but enough to sear the geometry of the cooking grate into the beef.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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“It was big.” “How big?” “Big.” I saw it a few nights after that. I was sitting in the kitchen, and I heard what I thought was the cat, coming down the hall. It wasn’t the cat. But it wasn’t much smaller, either.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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Tradition has it they come out of the mountains once a year at Golowan Night, in midsummer, to visit the Town. They walk the streets; see what’s changed, and then they take one thing back with them.

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Jonathan Shaboo.

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From a central column, it branched upward; a disturbingly fleshy plant corralled into a rigid, diamond lattice. It had no leaves, which I thought strange; so few plants are ever out of season in a greenhouse.

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Annelise Hawrylak.

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Antlers are the fastest growing bone in the animal kingdom. In June and July, the antlers of a White-tailed deer can grow as fast as an inch a day. An inch. In order to grow so quickly, the bones need blood; lots of it, and so they’re covered in a thin, soft tissue filled with blood vessels. Velvet.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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I am currently standing in the biomedical laboratories of the *REDACTED*—or simply the Institute, as I shall here on refer to it as—and am just outside of the main lab. In front of me is the holotype, species yet unnamed, currently thawing after being put on ice to best preserve its tissue.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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Don’t worry though. I know I look a little intimidating to everyday people, but I promise there’s a reason for the way I look. I’m not gonna talk your ear off, either. I know most people hate having people next to them on the bus, but I’m usually able to change their minds.

But enough about me. Where are you going?

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Joey Graff.

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The rest of her pregnancy was without complication. The town marvelled; many had been sure she would die. But she had picked up a strange habit. It was remarked on in town how she would leave her home in the evenings, and walk along water’s edge in the marsh, even until long after dark.

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Tara Wink.

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See, what you oughta do is get yourself an older vehicle. Take the Chimera for example. That engine has been running smooth and clean for over 60 years. With a few replacement parts, of course. They just don’t make cars like this anymore.

Say, could you hand me that flathead over there? The missing leg makes walking to the tool bench a real pain.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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Open your eyes. Don’t fall asleep, you mustn’t fall asleep. You have to stay awake, or the crows will eat you. Some think that they go for the eyes first, but it’s always the tongue. They take your tongue so you cannot cry for help, then leave you to bleed. The eyes they save for last.

--Written by Anthony Botelho and performed by Thomas Gough.

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You've been so good this year that we decided to leave you an extra little something in your stocking. Just make sure to give it a few good whacks before reaching in, to make absolute sure that it's dead.

--Performed by Anthony Botelho and Tara Wink.

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Later, I found out it was the coldest that day had been in a hundred years. I’m convinced I nearly died on the road that afternoon. And there’d be times that night when I wasn’t sure I hadn’t, and that the cabin I’d arrived at wasn’t hell.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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The letters swam, spilling into different words. “The crowning achievement of the Greatest and Best was Universal Discovery. Our voyagers found the outermost edge of the universe. We found the answers we were looking for, and the answers you are looking for. We built this monument afterwards. Come and see.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton. Performed by Amaka Umeh, and featuring Chris Vergara and Anthony Botelho.

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I never thought a hospital could be so pleasant. It began to feel like a home and besides the healing, visits from friends, and watching some of the trashiest daytime TV you can imagine, it was a pretty uneventful winter for me.

Except for that one night of course.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel and performed by Hugh Ritchie.

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Not long after Thomas’ return, I started noticing strange things in and around the house. Noises at first, at night. Something like the sound of distant thunder. Boom… boom… boom… off in the distance, in the middle of the night. Oddly, at around the same time Thomas would leave bed.

--Written by Anthony Botelho and performed by Rachel Hart.

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The chill wind blows and carries the smell of pumpkin rot. Creatures and bones and things peer from every home. The doorbell rings in the dead of night on a dark street. Do you dare answer? It must be time for more snips, and it must be time for Halloween.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel. Featuring, in order of appearance, Anthony Botelho, Rachel Hart, Jacob Duarte Spiel, Alexander Saxton, Hugh Ritchie, Liz Der, Chris Vergara, Margaret Rose, and Jada Rifkin.

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Now, that all sounds a bit dispassionate and business-minded when I listen to myself. This isn’t supposed to be a sales pitch. No… please don’t mistake me as being blase, this work really is my passion. As are the pigs.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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The sun was right overhead. It was so hot I thought the plastic wheels of my travel bag would melt to the pavement. As I turned from the parking lot down the side of the highway, the fresh dose of codeine washed over me, like white surf on a sunlit beach. The pills made everything even brighter and hazier. I felt like I was floating on the thick humid air, floating down the road like a raft down a warm stream.

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Liz Der.

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"It’s dangerous to face them alone. You must have others with you, others you trust, even if it puts them in danger." That's what Laudens told me when I first became the Catcher. It was the soundest of advice. And yet, sometimes we do not have the luxury of following sound advice.

--Written by Alexander Saxton. Featuring Thomas Gough.

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Sit tight folks, We're Taking Calls. Followed by announcements for Season 3. Featuring Alexander Saxton, Jada Rifkin, and Anthony Botelho.

---Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel

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She would stand in purple darkness, back pressed against one of the marble pillars supporting the window’s arch, and strain her ears to catch scraps of conversation as they drifted up through the purple leaves and white flowers of the citrus trees. In Constantinople, somebody was always listening.

--Written by Alexander Saxton

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And then, some strange, lingering sense of wrongness resolved itself into a realization. The people at this party were strange. They were all slightly too long and slender in the limbs and body. They all moved the same way, with the same liquid nonchalance.

--Featuring Alexander Saxton, Mirka Loiselle, and Louis-Alexandre Boulet.

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One night – it was late in the fall, I think – a foreign sound leaked into my father’s left ear, the one with the hearing aid. He took out the device and shook it, a habit that seemed to help, like the way you might hit an old radio to get it back to its senses. But when he put it back in, the sound didn’t disappear; if anything, it became a little clearer.

--Written by Ilan Tzitrin.

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She looked down at her drink, and tilted it to watch the fluid stick to the sides of the glass. She wrinkled her nose. He’d said it was “Bessenjenniver,” a specialty, and the bartender had poured her a thick shot in a yellowed tumbler, after unscrewing the cap and tearing open a crust of old sugar. For this, he had charged the absurd sum of 35 cents.

--Written by Alexander Saxton. Performed by Frances Loiselle and Alexander Saxton.

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Another collection of stories, tales of strange beasts and far-flung places. None of them a beginning or an ending, all of them short.

--Performed by Arun Varma, Kevin Matthew Wong, and Rachel Hart.

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Tell me, what draws you to that place? Were you raised here as child, wandering to the cliffs in your youth to throw rocks at the crumbling caves past the inlet? Did your elders tell you never to go near it, and you’ve just never shaken the childish want to disobey? Or have you passed by it in the middle of the night, and seen a dim pale light shining through the water and shining through the cracks in the rock face?

--Written by Anthony Botelho. Featuring Louis-Alexandre Boulet.

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I was mesmerized by the building, looking up and up at its titanic height. Near this end, it had a tower which soared to a height nearly double that of the bell tower at St. Mark’s. At the peak of the spire was a golden weather vane. Unlike St. Mark’s, the figure on that weather vane was not an angel.

--Written by Alexander Saxton. Featuring Mirka Loiselle, Arun Varma, and Rachel Hart.

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You know, I’ve seen the video. There was a good six months where she watched it almost every day, desperately searching for a clue, any kind of hint. All for nothing, obviously. I think we all knew that, the neighbours. But we’d sit with her while she did it, so she wouldn’t have to be alone.

--Written by Alexander Saxton. Performed by Sarah Marchand, and featuring Kevin Matthew Wong and Frances Loiselle.

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You see, the people who lived here choose to do so for a very specific reason. In spite of the fact that, until their being here, no humans who had ever set foot in this place wanted any part of it.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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My old man turned to me, and he said, Jimmy, it’s a bad stretch of road along here. If you can avoid it, never drive it after dark. It’s a bad stretch, and bad strange things happen to folks along here after dark.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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There's something Wrong with the signal.

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Now I’d been in that camp fer 'bout six months, an' Jack’d been there fer 'bout four, an' it was me'n'im together what found the Frenchman, floatin’ facedown in that swamp. An' we thought for sure that he was dead. But he wasn't.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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I’ve never felt at home with my wife’s family, and neither has Alison for that matter. But this time I had this special, sick feeling. There was something about this dinner, and the awful people at it, that felt like a disaster waiting to happen. Featuring, in order of appearance, Emma Burns, Hannah Wilkinson, Alexander Saxton, and Rachel Hart.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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I must say that I was surprised when I received your call. Not many people are very interested in learning the fine details of my work, given the nature of it. Yet here you are, the Brabant River Funeral Home.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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I went through sort of a rough patch when I was younger, and one summer I ended up in one of those outdoor education programs so I wouldn't have to redo a year. I thought I'd be okay when they left me alone on one of those little islands. But I wasn't okay, and I wasn't alone.

--Written by Alexander Saxton. Featuring Eric Synnott.

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Not every story has an end, or a beginning. Every day we glean half-stories, based on half-memories of half-facts. Catharsis is a rare treat for those who hear these tales, and for those who experience them.

--Featuring, in order of appearance, Emma Burns, Chai Valladares, Alexander Saxton, Ilan Tzitrin, and Rachel Hart.

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Things have been pretty good since the war ended. Energy is a lot cheaper, and that drives down the price on pretty much everything else. Everything seems perfect, though there was a while when I wasn’t sleeping all too well. Let me tell you about it, about that hum.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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She was walking home on one of the snowiest nights of the year, she tells me. She kind of loses track of time, and eventually comes to this park. A place she'd never heard of, and one she was never able to find again. That big park, with that little house right in the middle of it.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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I used to be a sawyer, you know? Sawmill man. This weather tonight makes me think of the last place that I ever worked. The terrible cold and the awful feeling you'd get at night. Like you were being watched by something, just beyond the trees. Featuring Chai Valladares and Eric Synnott.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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I guess you wanna hear that story, huh? It all happened a short while after my father died, years ago. I never knew much about his side of the family, but maybe it was better that way. Maybe it would have been better if I'd never found those photos.

--Written by Alexander Saxton. Support The Wrong Station by subscribing at www.patreon.com/thewrongstation. The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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