Episode 10 - Terror in a Colombian village and a town ripped apart by psychological warfare
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Today's narrative unfolds two compelling tales, the first being the harrowing account of the Chameleon's Curse, which depicts a monstrous entity that instilled profound terror within a small Colombian village, transforming a once peaceful community into a realm of fear and despair. This creature, known as El Chameleon, blurred the lines between myth and reality, haunting the villagers with its nocturnal assaults and psychological torment. As we delve into this chilling story, we encounter the resilience of the villagers as they grapple with their plight, seeking solace in faith and folklore amidst escalating dread. The second tale, the Poison Pen, takes us to a quiet Ohio town where an anonymous tormentor unleashed a reign of psychological terror through a series of malicious letters that exposed secrets and shattered lives, leaving the community engulfed in suspicion and anxiety. Both stories compel us to explore the thin veil that separates our mundane existence from the extraordinary, as the echoes of these haunting experiences resonate within the human spirit.
Within the confines of the Andes, the village of San Vicente found itself ensnared by an ominous presence, a creature that transcended the boundaries of folklore and reality, manifesting as a fearsome entity known locally as the Chameleon. This narrative unfolds amidst the backdrop of a tranquil existence, where the daily lives of its residents were abruptly disrupted by supernatural occurrences that defied explanation. The transformation of the village from a serene community into a bastion of terror is chronicled through harrowing accounts of encounters with the Chameleon, a figure that embodied both myth and the darkest fears of the villagers. The episode intricately weaves together the testimonies of individuals who bore witness to the inexplicable, revealing not only the psychological impact of such terror but also the communal response that ensued. As fear permeated the air, the villagers resorted to age-old traditions and rituals in a desperate attempt to reclaim their peace, culminating in a dramatic confrontation with the unknown that tested the very fabric of their beliefs.
The second narrative presents a stark contrast, as it delves into the psychological torment inflicted upon the residents of Circleville, Ohio, by an anonymous letter writer whose malicious intent unraveled the social fabric of this seemingly idyllic small town. The episode meticulously chronicles the origins of this insidious campaign, initiated by a single, venomous letter that unveiled sordid secrets and personal transgressions, thereby igniting a cascade of paranoia and suspicion. As the community grappled with the fallout, the very nature of trust was called into question, leading to a profound transformation in interpersonal relationships. The chilling details of the ensuing chaos are punctuated by the tragic events surrounding the Gillespie family, which serve as a focal point for the broader narrative of psychological warfare waged by an unseen adversary. This exploration of human fragility amidst a relentless barrage of psychological manipulation serves as a poignant reflection on the vulnerabilities inherent in close-knit communities.
In juxtaposing these two accounts, the episode not only highlights the diverse manifestations of fear—be it through the tangible terror of the Chameleon or the insidious dread of the poison pen—but also invites listeners to contemplate the deeper implications of myth, belief, and the human psyche. The stories resonate with themes of collective memory, the interplay between folklore and reality, and the profound impact of fear on community dynamics. As the narratives unfold, we are left to ponder the essence of evil and the complexities of human experience in the face of the inexplicable. Through vivid storytelling and rich detail, the episode immerses the audience in a world where the boundaries of reality fray, and the quest for understanding becomes an arduous journey into the heart of darkness.
Takeaways:
- The Chameleon's Curse reveals the haunting tale of a Colombian village terrorized by a shape-shifting creature, instilling deep-rooted fear among its residents.
- The psychological torment inflicted by the Poison Pen in Circleville, Ohio, illustrates the destructive power of anonymous letters that shattered lives and ignited paranoia.
- Father Ignacio's unwavering faith and desperate exorcism efforts in San Vicente highlight the struggle of a community grappling with the unknown and their quest for divine intervention.
- In both stories, the intersection of folklore, fear, and the human psyche demonstrates how legends can shape collective experiences and profoundly affect small communities.
- The abysmal silence following the chameleon's disappearance suggests unresolved trauma, leaving the villagers with lingering questions about the nature of their terror.
- The unresolved nature of the Poison Pen mystery emphasizes the profound impact of secrecy and betrayal on a tight-knit community, leaving scars that echo through time.
Transcript
Imagine a world teetering on the edge of the familiar, a place where the fabric of the everyday begins to unravel, revealing glimpses of the extraordinary lurking beneath.
Speaker A:You're about to embark on a journey into the enigmatic, where the peculiar and the perplexing intertwine, where every tale twists the mind and tugs at the spirit.
Speaker A:It's a descent into the strange, the mysterious, and the unexplained.
Speaker A:This is When Reality Frays.
Speaker A:New episodes are published every Monday and Thursday, and When Reality Frays is available everywhere.
Speaker A:Fine podcasts are found.
Speaker A:Before we move on, please hit that Follow or Subscribe button and turn on all reminders so you're alerted when new episodes are released.
Speaker A:Today's episode contains two stories.
Speaker A:First up is the Chameleon's Curse, a story about a monster's reign of terror over a small Colombian village.
Speaker A:And the second story of the day is the Poison Pin, an incredible story about the psychological torture of an entire town.
Speaker A:Now let's get to the stories.
Speaker A:In the shadow of Columbia's Andes, a tiny village faced an unspeakable terror, a creature that walked as a man by day and hunted as a monster by night.
Speaker A:They called it the Chameleon, and its reign of fear left scars that linger to this day.
Speaker A:Was it a demon, A myth?
Speaker A:Or a truth too dark to face?
Speaker A:This is the story of the Chameleon's Curse.
Speaker A: In the summer of: Speaker A:Its 200 residents lived a life of quiet resilience.
Speaker A:Coffee beans dried in the sun, children played in dusty lanes, and the church bell called the faithful to Mass.
Speaker A:It was a place where faith and folklore intertwined, where stories of duendes, mischievous spirits, and ancient curses were as real as the rain.
Speaker A:But that summer, San Vicente would face a terror that no prayer could banish, a shadow that would haunt its people for generations.
Speaker A:The first sign came in late June, subtle as a shiver.
Speaker A:Rosa Maria Vargas, a 42 year old mother of four with a reputation for steely resolve, noticed a stranger in the village market.
Speaker A:He was tall, his face half hidden by a straw hat, but his eyes were sharp, almost luminous, and locked onto hers.
Speaker A:It wasn't just a look, Rosa later told her neighbors, clutching her rosary so tight it left marks on her palm.
Speaker A:It was like he saw my soul.
Speaker A:That night she awoke to a guttural howl, a sound that seemed to rise from the earth itself.
Speaker A:Peering through her window, she saw it, a creature nearly 7ft tall, with bat like wings and eyes that glowed like embers, crouching in her yard.
Speaker A:When dawn broke, it was gone.
Speaker A:But there were fresh claw marks gouged into her home's adobe wall, marks that no human hand could have made.
Speaker A:Rose's story spread like wildfire.
Speaker A:The villagers, steeped in tales of shapeshifters and spirits, named the entity El Chameleon.
Speaker A:The chameleon, for its ability to wear a human face by day and a monstrous form by night.
Speaker A:Soon others came forward, their voices revealing their fear.
Speaker A:Javier Rojas, a 22 year old shepherd with a quiet demeanor, recounted a chilling encounter on a mountain path.
Speaker A:I met a man who said he was a traveler, javier said, hands shaking as he spoke.
Speaker A:But when the sun dipped, his face changed, his arms stretched, wings sprouted, and he flew into the sky.
Speaker A:I ran until my legs gave out.
Speaker A:Donya elena, the village's 80 year old matriarch, swore.
Speaker A:The chameleons scratched at her door, whispering her name in a voice that echoed her late husband's.
Speaker A:It knew things, she said, her eyes wide.
Speaker A:Things only the dead could know.
Speaker A:Fear tightened its grip on San Vicente.
Speaker A:The market emptied, replaced by hushed gatherings in the church.
Speaker A:Parents forbade children from playing outside, and men patrolled the village with machetes and shotguns.
Speaker A:Crosses were nailed above doorways and amulets of garlic and salt hung from windows.
Speaker A:It was like the air itself turned heavy, says Miguel Torres, a shopkeeper who was 16 that summer.
Speaker A:His voice faltered as he recalled the dread.
Speaker A:You'd hear a twig snap and think, it's here.
Speaker A:You'd see a stranger and wonder, is that it?
Speaker A:We were prisoners in our own homes.
Speaker A:The village's priest, Father Ignacio Morales, a 50 year old man with a scholar's mind and a warrior's faith, saw the chameleon as a test from God or a taunt from the devil.
Speaker A:Evil has come to San Vicente, he declared from the pulpit, his voice booming through the wooden church.
Speaker A:We must stand united or it will devour us.
Speaker A:Father Ignacio, who had studied theology in Bogota, was no stranger to the region's folklore.
Speaker A:But this was different.
Speaker A:The stories, the marks, the sheer terror in his flock's eyes convinced him this was no mere superstition.
Speaker A:He began nightly prayers, sprinkling holy water on thresholds and blessing homes with incense.
Speaker A:But the chameleon was undeterred.
Speaker A:By July, the incidents grew violent.
Speaker A:A farmer named Pablo Gomez found his herd of goats slaughtered, their throats torn open.
Speaker A:Their blood drained into the earth.
Speaker A:It wasn't a jaguar, Pablo told the village council, his face ashen.
Speaker A:This was for sport.
Speaker A:Days later, Rosa's cousin Luis Delgado, a wiry 30 year old known for his bravado, claimed the chameleon attacked him on a moonless night.
Speaker A:I was walking home from the cantina, he said, showing gashes on his arm that oozed a strange, dark fluid.
Speaker A:It came from nowhere, tall, with wings like a bat.
Speaker A:It grabbed me and its eyes.
Speaker A:They burned.
Speaker A:Luis's wounds refused to heal, and he began to unravel, raving about a man who followed him in his dreams.
Speaker A:A week later, he ran into the jungle and was never seen again.
Speaker A:It broke us, rosa says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Speaker A:Now in her late 80s, she sits in a rocking chair, her hands tracing the beads of her rosary.
Speaker A:Luis was family.
Speaker A:To lose him like that, it was like the chameleon took a piece of our hearts.
Speaker A:The village teetered on the edge of collapse.
Speaker A:Some whispered of a curse, perhaps tied to a long forgotten sin, a pact made by ancestors or a sacred site desecrated.
Speaker A:Others suspected a human hand, a madman hiding among them, exploiting the chaos.
Speaker A:But no one dared accuse their neighbors outright trust.
Speaker A:Once the village's bedrock had crumbled, Father Iglesio, driven by desperation, took a radical step.
Speaker A: ,: Speaker A:If this is Satan's work, he told the gathered crowd, I will cast it out.
Speaker A:Under a sky heavy with clouds, he led a procession through San Vicente, his black cassock billowing as he swung a censer of burning copal.
Speaker A:Villagers followed, clutching candles and chanting I Ave Maria.
Speaker A:Their voices raised with hope.
Speaker A:At each corner of the village, Father Ignacio drove a wooden cross into the ground, anointed with holy oil.
Speaker A:For three nights he performed rituals, invoking the Archangel Michael and pleading for divine protection.
Speaker A:It was like a war, Miguel recalls Father Ignacio, against something we couldn't see.
Speaker A:The exorcism seemed to work.
Speaker A:For 10 days, San Vicente was quiet.
Speaker A:No howls, no scratches, no sightings.
Speaker A:The villagers dared to hope.
Speaker A:But on August 26, a 10 year old girl named Clara ran screaming from the churchyard, claiming she saw the chameleon perched on the roof, its wings blotting out the stars.
Speaker A:It looked at me.
Speaker A:She sobbed and it smiled.
Speaker A:The terror returned fiercer than ever.
Speaker A:Father Ignacio, already frail from sleepless nights, was shaken.
Speaker A:He told me he felt it watching him, says Anilopez, the church's housekeeper.
Speaker A:He said it was stronger than any demon he'd read about.
Speaker A:By early September, Father Ignacio's health collapsed.
Speaker A:Confined to his bed, he whispered of a presence that mocked his prayers, a force older than the church itself.
Speaker A:On September 12, he died, his face frozen in a look of defiance.
Speaker A:The official reports cited heart failure, but the villagers knew better.
Speaker A:The chameleon took him.
Speaker A:Donya Elena insisted.
Speaker A:It broke his spirit.
Speaker A:His death was the final blow.
Speaker A:Some families fled to nearby towns.
Speaker A:Others retreated into silence.
Speaker A:And then, as if sated, the chameleon vanished.
Speaker A:No more sightings and no more attacks.
Speaker A:By October, San Vicente was still the jungle, reclaiming its secrets.
Speaker A:What was the chameleon of the Andes?
Speaker A:The question lingers like mist in the Coquetta Valleys.
Speaker A:For the faithful, it was a demon, a manifestation of evil that tested San Vicente's soul.
Speaker A:Father Ignacio's journals, discovered years later, describe it as a shadow with a thousand faces, A force tied to the Andes.
Speaker A:Ancient spirits.
Speaker A:Local folklore offers another clue.
Speaker A:Stories of the Bat Man, a shapeshifter who punishes those who stray from tradition.
Speaker A:Our elders warned us, Rosa says the jungle has its guardians.
Speaker A:Maybe we angered one.
Speaker A:Skeptics see a different story.
Speaker A:Dr.
Speaker A: st who visited san Vicente in: Speaker A:In isolated communities, fear is contagious, he explains.
Speaker A:Economic stress, guerrilla violence in the region.
Speaker A:A charismatic priest.
Speaker A:It's a perfect storm for collective delusion.
Speaker A: The: Speaker A:Pena suggests the chameleon was a projection of the village's anxiety, its attacks, misinterpretations of natural events.
Speaker A:Perhaps a large bat or a prowling jaguar.
Speaker A:But the physical evidence complicates the narrative.
Speaker A:The claw marks on Rose's wall, measured at 6 inches long and an inch deep, baffled local hunters.
Speaker A:Pablo's goats showed wounds no known predator could inflict.
Speaker A:Luis's gashes, described by the village midwife as festering with a strange odor, resisted treatment.
Speaker A:And then there's Clara's drawing of the chameleon kept in the church archives.
Speaker A:A humanoid figure with elongated limbs, bat like wings, and eyes that seem to follow you.
Speaker A:It's not the work of a child's imagination.
Speaker A:Anna insists she saw something real.
Speaker A:Other theories point to a human culprit.
Speaker A:Some villagers suspected a hermit known as El Loco, a recluse who lived in the jungle and was rumored to practice dark rituals.
Speaker A:He disappeared around the same time as the chameleon, but no evidence linked him to the events.
Speaker A:A few whispered of vengeful neighbors, perhaps settling old grudges under the guise of a monster.
Speaker A:Though the village's small size made secrecy unlikely, more outlandish ideas were posed.
Speaker A:A government experiment, a hallucinogenic plant, or even an extraterrestrial visitor circulated but found no traction.
Speaker A:The investigation, if it can be called that, was non existent.
Speaker A:The Coquetta police, stretched thin by the region's violence, dismissed the reports as peasant nonsense.
Speaker A: visited san Vicente in August: Speaker A:No forensic tests were conducted, no witnesses formally interviewed.
Speaker A:Luis's disappearance was logged as a runaway case, and Father Ignacio's death was buried in bureaucracy.
Speaker A:They didn't care about us, miguel says, his voice edged with anger.
Speaker A:To them, we were just a speck in the jungle.
Speaker A:Decades later, San Vicente is a ghost of its former self.
Speaker A:The coffee boom faded, and many residents moved to cities like Florencia or Bogota.
Speaker A:The church still stands, its walls weathered but adorned with crosses, a silent ward against the past.
Speaker A:Rosa, one of the few remaining witnesses, lives in a small house, her windows barred.
Speaker A:I still hear it sometimes, she admits, her gaze fixed on the jungle.
Speaker A:A rustle, a whisper.
Speaker A:It's out there, waiting.
Speaker A:Miguel, now a grandfather, runs a small store in a nearby town but returns to San Vicente for mass.
Speaker A:We survived, he says, but will never be whole.
Speaker A:The chameleon of the Andes remains a mystery wrapped in shadow.
Speaker A:Was it a demon born of faith and fear, a creature of the wild, misjudged by panicked eyes?
Speaker A:Or a human evil cloaked in myth?
Speaker A:In the Andes, where the mountains guard their truths, the answer lies just beyond reach.
Speaker A:A flicker in the jungle, a whisper in the dark, a face that shifts when you look too long.
Speaker A:If you're enjoying the stories, please consider supporting the research and production that go into bringing them to you by buying me a coffee.
Speaker A:The link is in the episode's show notes, and I would greatly appreciate your support.
Speaker A:Now on to today's second story, which is the Poison Pen.
Speaker A:In a quiet Ohio town, a faceless tormentor unleashed a reign of psychological terror.
Speaker A:Anonymous letters exposed secrets, shattered lives, and left a trail of questions.
Speaker A:Who was the Circleville letter writer, and what drove them to tear a community apart?
Speaker A:Let's delve into a mystery that even today still haunts the heartland.
Speaker A:This is the story of the Poison Pen.
Speaker A: ircleville, Ohio, in the late: Speaker A:Neighbors waved from porches and secrets were shared over cups of coffee at the local diner.
Speaker A: But in: Speaker A:A poison pin that would turn neighbor against neighbor and leave a legacy of fear.
Speaker A:It began with a single letter slipped into the mailbox of mary Gillespie, a 34 year old school bus driver known for a quick laugh and a steady hand on the wheel.
Speaker A:The envelope was plain, the handwriting blocky and crude, but the words inside were sharp as a blade.
Speaker A:I know you're having an affair with Gordon Massey.
Speaker A:Stop it or you'll pay.
Speaker A:I'm watching you.
Speaker A:Gordon Massey, the school superintendent, was a married man and a pillar of the community.
Speaker A:Mary, married to Ron Gillespie, a factory worker with a protective streak, was stunned.
Speaker A:The accusation was baseless, but the letter's details, her daily routes, her children's names, struck her like a violation.
Speaker A:Someone wasn't just guessing.
Speaker A:This had to have come from someone who knew her and was intimately familiar with her life.
Speaker A:I thought it was a sick joke at first, mary later told police, her voice steady despite trembling hands.
Speaker A:But the letters kept coming.
Speaker A:They wouldn't stop.
Speaker A:Mary wasn't alone.
Speaker A:Mailboxes across Circleville began receiving similar missives, each one a dagger aimed at the town's heart.
Speaker A:Teachers, shopkeepers, even the mayor received letters exposing affairs, financial troubles or petty grudges.
Speaker A:The writers seemed to know everything.
Speaker A:Who was skimming from the till, who was sneaking out at night, who was whispering behind closed doors.
Speaker A:It was like the town had a ghost, said Betty Thompson, a retired librarian who lived through the ordeal.
Speaker A:You'd look at your neighbors and wonder, are they writing about me?
Speaker A:The letters targeting Mary were the most relentless.
Speaker A:They arrived weekly, sometimes multiple times a week, each one more venomous than the last.
Speaker A:Your kids aren't safe.
Speaker A:Your husband knows.
Speaker A:End it with Massey or else.
Speaker A:Mary and Ron tried to Shield Their children, 12 year old Tracy and 10 year old Bobby, but the strain was palpable.
Speaker A:Ron, a man of few words but fierce loyalty, grew increasingly volatile.
Speaker A:He'd sit at the kitchen table staring at those letters, Karen Sue Foley, Mary's sister in law, recalls.
Speaker A:He'd say, I'll find this coward.
Speaker A:I'll make him pay.
Speaker A:The town whispered theories.
Speaker A:Was it a jilted lover?
Speaker A:A disgruntled school employee?
Speaker A:Some even suspected Gordon Massie himself, though he denied any affair and claimed that he too received threatening letters.
Speaker A:Sheriff Dwight Radcliffe, an aging lawman with a reputation for fairness, was stumped.
Speaker A:The letters were postmarked locally, but fingerprint tests yielded nothing.
Speaker A:Handwriting analysis was a dead end.
Speaker A:The block letters were too generic.
Speaker A:We were chasing a phantom, radcliffe later admitted.
Speaker A:Whoever it was, they were careful.
Speaker A:Too careful.
Speaker A:Then, on August 19, the mystery took a deadly turn.
Speaker A:Late that night, Ron's phone rang.
Speaker A:Mary watched as his face darkened, his knuckles whitening around the receiver.
Speaker A:He didn't say much, just grabbed his gun and said he was going to end this, she recounted.
Speaker A:I begged him to stay, but he was gone.
Speaker A:Hours later, police found Ron's pickup truck smashed into a tree on Antrim Road, a desolate stretch outside of town.
Speaker A:He was dead at 39.
Speaker A:His.38 caliber revolver had been fired, but police were never able to find where the bullet had gone.
Speaker A:The coroner ruled Ron's death an accident, citing a blood alcohol of.16.
Speaker A:But Mary and her family cried foul.
Speaker A:Ron wasn't a drinker, karen sue insists, her voice cracking.
Speaker A:He was set up.
Speaker A:Someone lured him out there.
Speaker A:The tragedy emboldened the letter writer.
Speaker A:Signs began appearing along Mary's bus route, scrawled with accusations.
Speaker A:Massey and Gillespie.
Speaker A:Everyone knows.
Speaker A:Parents complained, children whispered, and Mary's reputation crumbled.
Speaker A:I'd drive my route and people would stare, she later said.
Speaker A:I felt like I was on trial.
Speaker A: a horrifying peak in February: Speaker A:Inside a taped up box, she found a crude booby trap, a pistol rigged to fire.
Speaker A:By sheer luck, it didn't.
Speaker A:I could feel my heart stop, mary told investigators.
Speaker A:Whoever did this wanted me dead.
Speaker A:Police traced the gun's serial number to Paul Freshour, Karen Sue's husband and Ron's brother in law.
Speaker A:Paul, a quiet man who worked as a factory supervisor, was an unlikely suspect.
Speaker A:He had no clear motive, and his marriage to Karen sue seemed stable.
Speaker A:But the gun was registered to him, and a handwriting expert claimed his block letters matched the writer's, though the evidence was shaky at best.
Speaker A: In October of: Speaker A:I didn't write those letters, he said at his trial, his voice calm but resolute.
Speaker A:I'm not that kind of man.
Speaker A:The conviction should have closed the case.
Speaker A:But then a chilling twist.
Speaker A:The letters kept coming.
Speaker A:Behind bars, Paul received taunting notes, as did Mary, Sheriff Radcliffe and dozens of others.
Speaker A:You got the wrong man, one letter sneered.
Speaker A:The writer is still out there.
Speaker A:Circleville descended into paranoia.
Speaker A:If Paul wasn't the rider, who was?
Speaker A:And how were they still operating undetected?
Speaker A:With police scrutiny at its peak, it was like the town was cursed, says Tom Reynolds, a former diner owner who received a letter accusing him of tax evasion.
Speaker A:You'd look at your friends, your co workers, even your family and think, Is it you?
Speaker A:Are you the one?
Speaker A:Some suspected a conspiracy.
Speaker A:A few corrupt officials, perhaps.
Speaker A:A wilder theory suggested Gordon Massey was orchestrating the letters to deflect from his own scandals.
Speaker A: then later moved away in the: Speaker A:Investigators were baffled.
Speaker A:The letters volume hundreds, possibly thousands over nearly two decades suggested an obsessive, almost superhuman effort.
Speaker A:Some were mailed from Columbus, 30 miles away, others from within Circleville itself.
Speaker A:The riders seemed to know when police were closing in, switching tactics or lying low.
Speaker A:We tried stakeouts, mail surveillance, everything, says retired deputy Jim Carter, shaking his head.
Speaker A:It was like they were always one step ahead.
Speaker A:For Mary, the toll was unbearable.
Speaker A:Her husband was dead and her reputation in tatters.
Speaker A:She left her job, moved her children to a new town and tried to rebuild.
Speaker A: ted peace, she said In a rare: Speaker A:But every time I thought it was over, another letter would come.
Speaker A: Paul Fresh hour, released in: Speaker A:He spent his final years researching the case, compiling a dossier of letters and suspects, but found no answers.
Speaker A:Whoever did this, he wrote in a journal, they're either dead or they're laughing.
Speaker A: By the mid-: Speaker A:Circleville began to heal, its younger residents unaware of the terror that once gripped their town.
Speaker A:But for those who lived through it, the scars remain.
Speaker A:It changed us, betty Thompson says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Speaker A:You don't trust people the same way after something like that.
Speaker A:Today, the Circleville letters remain one of America's strangest unsolved mysteries.
Speaker A:Mysteries?
Speaker A:Was it a lone obsessive?
Speaker A:A spurned lover?
Speaker A:Or a cabal of locals with a vendetta?
Speaker A:Did Ron Gillespie die by accident, or was he silenced to protect the writer's identity?
Speaker A:And what drove someone to wage a decades long campaign of psychological warfare against a small town?
Speaker A:Somewhere in the faded pages of those hateful letters, the truth lies buried.
Speaker A:But in Circleville, the shadow of the poison pen lingers, a reminder that some secrets are written in ink too dark to ever be erased.
Speaker A:The stories presented are inspired by true events.
Speaker A:Names may have been changed for privacy reasons.
Speaker A:New episodes are uploaded every Monday and Thursday.
Speaker A:If you're enjoying the journey into the strange, the mysterious and the unexplained Be sure to press that Follow or Subscribe button and turn on all reminders so you're alerted whenever an episode drops.
Speaker A:Until next time, thank you for listening to When Reality Frays.
