Lighthouse Logs — Fexingo Horror cover art

Lighthouse Logs — Fexingo Horror

Lighthouse Logs — Fexingo Horror

By: Fexingo
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Inside a lighthouse on a jagged coast, Luna takes up the keeper's logbook each night. The stories she writes are not her own — they are the confessions, warnings, and last words of those who have come before her. Each entry is a self-contained tale: a captain who hears his drowned crew singing in the fog, a lighthouse keeper whose isolation gives birth to a second self, a shipwreck survivor who discovers the island is not what it seems. The Fresnel lens casts rotating beams across the pages, illuminating horrors that prefer the dark. Here, the sea keeps its secrets, and the lighthouse is a archive of human despair. Luna narrates in a hushed, intimate voice, as if reading by candlelight, each story a slow-burn descent into dread. For listeners who crave atmospheric horror, maritime folklore, and the loneliness of the watch. #LighthouseLogs #MaritimeHorror #NauticalTales #SeaStories #LighthouseHorror #IsolationHorror #Fogbound #ShipwreckTales #LogbookEntries #SlowBurnHorror #AtmosphericHorror #FolkHorror #SeaLegends #DrownedCrew #LighthouseKeeper #Horror #HorrorPodcast #FexingoHorror Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo© 2026 Fexingo. All rights reserved. Drama & Plays Social Sciences
Episodes
  • The Night the Library Catalogued My Silence

    The Night the Library Catalogued My Silence
    Jun 9 2026
    In the autumn of 2019, I found myself in the reading room of the Daughton Public Library in Millhaven, Ohio, chasing a ghost that only appeared in card catalogues. A patron named Ellen Cole had returned a book in 1974, and the log said she never spoke again. I spent three nights in that library, watching the Dewey decimal cards rearrange themselves, feeling the silence thicken around me as if it were a living thing. The librarian, Mrs. Gable, warned me not to look up the book's title. I looked. And then the catalogue began to remember me. This is an intimate, slow-burn horror about the stories we bury in archives, and what happens when the paper starts to whisper back. #LighthouseLogs #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #LibraryHorror #CardCatalogue #MillhavenOhio #DaughtonPublicLibrary #Silence #Archives #DeweyDecimal #EllenCole #MrsGable #AutumnHorror #SmallTownSecrets #QuietHorror #AtmosphericHorror #SoloNarration #Luna Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
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    9 mins
  • The Night the Convent Bell Rang Through the Snow

    The Night the Convent Bell Rang Through the Snow
    Jun 8 2026
    February 1987. A stalled car on a back road outside Sistersville, West Virginia. I walked through the blizzard toward a light I should not have followed — the old Saint Agatha's Convent, closed since the spring of '63. The door was unlocked. The chapel was warm. And the bell in the tower, which had no rope and no mechanism, began to toll as the clock struck three in the morning. I met Sister Margaret that night — or what wore her face and her habit and her voice. She told me the story of the last night the convent was open, and she told me why the bell never stopped. #TheNightTheConventBell #SaintAgathasConvent #Sistersville #WestVirginia #February1987 #Blizzard #ConventHorror #SisterMargaret #Chapel #BellTower #ThreeAM #Snowstorm #MidnightMass #Vigil #LostHighway #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #LighthouseLogs Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
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    6 mins
  • The Night the River Keeper Counted the Stones

    The Night the River Keeper Counted the Stones
    Jun 7 2026
    It was late October, just before the clocks fell back, when I found myself on the shoulder of a county highway in eastern Oregon, a few miles south of a town called Fossil. My car had overheated on the long stretch between Bend and nowhere, and the only light for miles came from a small clapboard house with a porch lamp burning amber. The man who answered the door introduced himself as the river keeper. He said he watched over the John Day River, that he had done it for forty-seven years, and that he kept a ledger of every stone that tumbled downstream. I thought he meant it as a metaphor. He invited me inside, and I saw the books. Stacked on shelves, floor to ceiling, each page covered in handwriting so small and precise it looked like a map of capillaries. He showed me the names. Names of people I knew. Names I had almost forgotten. Names I had never heard but recognized anyway. The river keeper told me that when a stone stops moving, the person whose name it carries dies in the night. He was not finished. He had a new entry to make, and the date was already written. It was that night's date. And the name he wrote was mine. #LighthouseLogs #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #RiverKeeper #JohnDayRiver #FossilOregon #TheLedger #October #CountyHighway #EasternOregon #Supernatural #SmallTownHorror #FolkloreHorror #AtmosphericHorror #SlowBurn #SoloNarration #Luna #Anthology Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo
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    6 mins
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