December 6, 2025 • 38 mins
December arrives with a crackling edge tonight… and the veil is acting bold.
In this Beyond the Veil News episode, Beck dives into the newest wave of strange and unusual reports the mainstream won’t touch...from shadow figures walking across airport runways to VR headsets showing faces no one invited. We explore crawler cryptids climbing overpasses, landlines calling their owners, forests where sound switches off, deer with ember-red eyes, invisible ride share passengers, lakes where time stutters, dogs who vanish for eleven minutes, static-faced TVs turning on at 1:13 AM, and a forest ranger who somehow photo bombed himself.
PLUS:
A Strange Tale from History’s Shadow-The Man Who Spoke to the Winter Silence, and a Listener Lore that will make you unplug your TV before bed.
If strange patterns have been tugging at your attention lately…you’re not imagining it.
Follow the show, share the episode, and keep the lantern lit.
The world is whispering again.
☕Support the show: ko-fi.com/tothespirit
Help keep the static spooky and the strange stories flowing.
📚 Rebecca’s Books:
-Look Up: The Journey of a Soul Satellite– A spiritual memoir for seekers, skeptics, and the soul-weary.
-The Galaxy Code– A cosmic tale of awakening and remembrance, channeled through the veil.
Available now- perfect for deep divers of the metaphysical and mysterious.
Disclaimer:The content of this episode is for entertainment purposes only. The views and opinions shared by the hosts and guests are personal and do not necessarily reflect the beliefs or views of any organizations, sponsors, or affiliates. Listener discretion is advised.
Contact: Have a story to share, or want to get in touch? Email at tothespiritpod@gmail.com.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:04):
You're listening to to the Spirit Podcast.
Welcome back to be on the Veil News, everyone.
I'm back. Your guide, your narrator, your
flashlight holder in this dimly lit hallway we call reality.
And tonight, the hallway is extra drafty.
(00:27):
December has arrived with that classic holiday mix of cheerful
lights, questionable cookies, and the unsettling sense that
something unseen is standing just a little too close behind
you. And honestly, it wouldn't be the
holiday season without at least one ghost brushing past the
Garland. Tonight's lineup is stacked.
(00:49):
And by stacked, I mean the Veil appears to be dropping hints
like it's trying to get our attention before the new year
hits. Tonight's going to be a ride, so
settle in. Turn down the lights if you
dare, keep your socks on if you're a cold feet or a getaway
to the other side type of person, and maybe check your VR
(01:09):
headset before you put it on. Just saying.
Because tonight we're not just going beyond the veil.
We're stepping into the part of December where the strange gets
bold, the shadows get chatty, and the world starts whispering
again. Let's get to the headlines.
(01:29):
All right, We're kicking things off with a story that made me
physically say Nope out loud, which is impressive because, you
know, I usually greet the weird with a warm cup of coffee and a
raised eyebrow. Small airports across the
country, rural Pennsylvania, Iowa, Montana have been dealing
with late night visits from whatpilots are calling the shadow on
(01:51):
the runway. Not a person, not an animal, not
even a trick of the light. A tall, human shaped silhouette
that triggers motion sensors shows up on radar as mass
displaced, but doesn't create a heat signature of any kind.
Security footage captures the runway lights flicking on,
(02:12):
shimmering, and then just the outline of a figure walking
across the tarmac like it's returning a rental car after
hours. 1 Pilot described it perfectly.
It looked like a person made of absence.
And the weirdness doesn't stop there.
When staff review the footage, every frame where the figure
(02:34):
appears is streaked with visual tearing, like reality got tugged
sideways for a half second. Airport managers are calling it
equipment malfunction, which is adorable because equipment
doesn't malfunction in the shapeof a man who walks with
intention, pauses, and then disappears right before the
frame resets. Folklore wise, runway
(02:57):
apparitions aren't new. Smaller figures showed up in
World War 2 airfields, 1970s military bases, the Phoenix
Lights era. They're often described as
watchers, observers, entities attracted to thresholds, places
where things arrive and depart, and airports.
(03:19):
They're one big departure loungefor energy.
So while the FAA won't touch this with a 10 foot pole, the
pattern is clear. Something is crossing airspace
that isn't a plane, and whateverit is, it's not trying to hide.
It's walking right across the runway like it belongs there.
(03:41):
This next story. Honestly, if this happened to
me, I'd eat the headset into thenearest river and then sage the
river. Over the past two weeks, a
surprising number of VR users have reported the same eerie
phenomena. Whenever the headset goes to a
black loading screen, you know that blank void before the game
boots up, They're seeing a face reflected inside the lens.
(04:05):
And not their face, not the room, not an avatar, not
lighting a face, usually pale, unmoving, close, staring
directly at them. One user described it as someone
standing inches away, watching me from the inside of the
(04:26):
headset. That's a no thank you for me.
Even creepier, a few users said that the face blinked, and one
unlucky soul said the reflectionactually smiled at them, a slow,
stretched, uncanny grin, before the game finally loaded and the
image vanished like a bad omen clearing its throat.
(04:48):
VR companies, of course, are blaming residual overlays, which
is Big Tech's cute way of sayingwe have no idea what's
happening, but we're not admitting that on record.
But here's where it veers into true high strangeness.
Some users reported the face even when the headset wasn't
connected, the room was fully lit and one didn't even have
(05:11):
controllers powered on. Translation.
This isn't a glitch following gameplay, it's a glitch
following you. Folklore has long said
reflective surfaces are thresholds, mirrors, windows,
polished metal, and portals of perception.
VR lenses. They're basically mirrors
pointed directly at your soul. They reflect what's in front of
(05:35):
them, and sometimes what's behind the reflection.
Whatever people are seeing, it doesn't seem random, and it
doesn't seem like a software hiccup.
It seems inquisitive, observant,curious, like someone or
something is looking back through the dark and waiting for
(05:56):
you to put the headset on again.This next one has been making
the rounds in the paranormal corners of the Internet, and
honestly, it's giving the crypt.It took a wrong turn at
Albuquerque. Energy drivers in five different
states, Ohio, Indiana, Oklahoma,New Jersey and Tennessee have
(06:20):
captured videos of what appears to be the same creature climbing
highway overpasses at 2:00 to 4:00 AM.
Descriptions match nearly perfectly, long pale limbs, a
hunched spider like posture, movements that are too smooth to
be human, and a body shape that looks like someone stretched a
(06:41):
person like Taffy and forgot to stop, like a crawler Cryptid on
its winter road trip. But the strangest part?
The creature never shows up directly on Hwy. cameras.
People filming from their cars see it reflected in their
windows, side mirrors, the Sheenof their hoods.
(07:04):
But traffic cams pointing right at the same spot?
Nothing. Just an empty overpass.
It only shows up in reflections,which is not something wildlife
does. Authorities, as usual, say
probably a construction worker. Yes, because construction
workers are famously pale, jointinverted, nocturnal, and capable
(07:27):
of crawling upside down at 3:00 AM without OSHA throwing a fit.
Folklore has a name for these type of beings.
The betweeners, creatures that move at the edges of perception,
appear in reflections, and avoiddirect observation like it
burns. They're known to travel along
(07:48):
routes, roads, ridges, rail lines like they're following
energetic paths humans forgot existed.
But here's the kicker. 5 states,Same creature, same week.
Now that's not a sighting. That's a pattern.
Like something is migrating, or scouting or just stretching its
legs across the Interstate and deeply confusing every
(08:10):
unsuspecting night shift driver in America.
OK, this one legitimately made me sit back and say, all right,
who opened the wrong door? Across several states this week,
households have reported receiving phone calls from their
own landline numbers, even when the phones were unplugged, the
(08:33):
jacks were dead, or the landlineservice was cancelled years ago.
When the call comes in, caller ID shows your own phone number,
and if you're brave or reckless enough to answer, you don't get
a robo call. You don't get silence, you get
breathing, soft static, faint knocking, sometimes whispers,
(08:57):
and in one case, a voice quietlysaying the homeowner's name.
Which is exactly the point whereI would personally salt the
entire kitchen and unplug the universe.
Phone companies doing their usual nothing to see, hear
routine insists it's caller ID spoofing.
But spoofing can't ring an unplugged phone, or call a
(09:19):
disconnected line, or create a voice that knows who had dialed.
And the weirdest case yet? A woman in Michigan said her
home phone rang twice, and one night she answered.
Heavy breathing. She hung up.
The second time, she didn't answer, but her cell phone left
a voicemail from the landline anyway.
(09:42):
There was nothing but long, slowexhaling, like someone standing
too close to the receiver, listening for the moment she
would pick up. This feels less like a tech
glitch and more like a classic haunting using a modern medium.
Old school spirits love knocking, tapping clocks, music
(10:02):
boxes. If they're learning how to use
phone lines, we're in a crossover episode.
Folklore has always said spiritsfollow familiar pathways, doors,
mirrors, thresholds, wires. A landline is just a wire
doorway, and when your house calls you, something inside
wants your attention. This one hits that perfect mix
(10:30):
of folklore, physics, and Nope. Hunters in Oregon, West
Virginia, and northern Georgia have reported stumbling into
what they're calling audio voids, small pockets of forest
where sound completely disappears.
And I don't mean it gets quiet. I mean silent.
The wind stops, birds go mute, insects vanish, footsteps make
(10:57):
no crunch. Even their breathing sounds
faint or delayed, one hunter said I.
Yelled for my buddy. My mouth moved.
No sound came out. Another said his dog barked he
saw the bark but heard nothing. These pockets last 10 to 20
seconds, then suddenly everything returns at once.
(11:18):
Birds wind footsteps like hitting unmute on the forest.
Science. Blame wind anomalies or psycho
acoustic shock, which is adorable because wind anomalies
don't stop sound from leaving your throat, silence animals
across multiple states, or make the world feel like you stepped
(11:39):
outside the simulation for a second.
Here's what's interesting in folklore worldwide, from the
Appalachians or sorry, Appalachians.
Appalachians. I always say it wrong.
From the Appalachians to Norway to ancient Celtic tales, there
are stories of quiet places where portals open, pathway
(11:59):
shift, travelers vanish, or realities overlap.
The old word for it is near gate, a thin spot, a fold, a
boundary. Error.
And the hunter reports match these traditional signs
perfectly. Sudden silence, disorientation,
time, feeling paused, animals responding first.
(12:24):
We're seeing clusters of these audio voids.
Clusters always mean something. Either one, the veil is thinning
in those regions, 2 geomagnetic weirdness is messing with the
field, or three, something is pushing through and silence is
the first symptom. Whatever it is, the forest seems
(12:46):
to notice it before we do. All right, this one lives
squarely at the intersection of technology and supernatural.
My favorite crossroads. A developer this month noticed
(13:09):
something odd in the logs of a small scale AI model he'd been
training during an unrelated text generation test.
The model began to describe a town called Boone Hollow and
startling intimate detail. The Crooked River bend.
The old church with the tilted bell tower.
Even a bakery with green shutters and the smell of
(13:32):
cinnamon mixed with smoke. The problem?
Boone Hollow hasn't existed for over a century.
It was destroyed in a flood 112 years ago, its records never
digitized, its name missing fromevery public database the model
could access. The developer dug through the
trading corpus. No reference, not even a
(13:52):
footnote. Yet the AI spoke of the town
like someone recalling a memory.He tried again the next day.
Fresh seed text. Same prompt, different phrasing,
same town. It even added a line the.
Bell never stopped ringing underthe water.
Now that's a sentence that deserves its own campfire.
(14:14):
The logical crowd insists it's coincidence, statistical
hallucination. But here's what breaks the math.
The model gave the correct coordinates of the original site
to the decimal. Now folklorists have a word for
knowledge that returns from places long erased echo data,
information that drifts through time the same way A haunting
(14:36):
drifts through walls. If spirits can speak through EVP
recorders, why couldn't something speak through code?
Maybe the machine didn't learn about Boon Hollow.
Maybe it remembered. And maybe we've built mirrors
smart enough to reflect more than we bargained for.
(14:57):
If this message stirred something in you, don't walk
away empty handed. Follow to the spirit wherever
you listen. You can light the flame back by
leaving a review or sharing the signal to go deeper.
Support the show on coffee. The $5 tier unlocks the signal
path. Intimate transmissions just for
(15:19):
the flame marked. And if you've got a story or
question for the ether, send it to to thespiritpod@gmail.com.
This headline is like a folk Horror Story wandered into real
(15:40):
life, hung up its coat and said,mind if I stay a while?
Across the Midwest, Wisconsin, Michigan, parts of Minnesota,
hunters and hikers have been reporting white tailed deer with
glowing red eyes. Not reflective eyeshine, not a
camera flash or effect, not the eerie green glow you get from
(16:02):
night vision. These eyes are self luminous,
like embers, like coals, like someone tucked a tiny furnace
behind the iris. Multiple videos show the same
sequence. The deer freezes, lifts its
head, slowly locks eyes with thecamera and the glow dials down
(16:24):
as if dimming itself. Eye shine doesn't dim, it
doesn't change intensity, it doesn't behave.
This does 1. Hunter said it.
Was like the woods was looking back at me through.
It another reported seeing a deer with only one glowing eye,
the other perfectly normal, which somehow makes it even
(16:45):
worse. Now here's where the folklore
taps us on the shoulder. You know, highlight that
folklore in old winter stories across Europe, in the northern
tribes, red eyed deer weren't omens of danger, they were omens
of threshold shifts, signs of incoming harsh winters,
(17:06):
dimensional thinning, wandering spirits taking animal form, or
guides appearing in liminal seasons.
The Celts called them the ember herd, beings that show up before
a major energetic turn. The Ojibwe have tails of fire
sighted deer that appear when the land is remembering its
older shape and the old Nordic texts mention Harter, the heart
(17:29):
fired deer said to walk between worlds during Yule.
So the modern sightings, they'renot random.
Combined glowing eyes, intelligent dimming, silent
movement, winter timing and multiple state pattern.
Something is up, whether these are mutated animals reacting to
(17:51):
solar storms, spirit manifestations using familiar
shapes, watchers returning for the winter cycle, or something
stranger. The woods are showing signs, and
in December, when the veil thinssideways instead of downward,
that's when the oldest beings walk.
This next one is equal parts creepy, hilarious, and I'm never
(18:14):
driving alone at night again. Rideshare drivers in Chicago,
Los Angeles, Toronto, Phoenix and Atlanta have reported a
bizarre rise of what they're calling ghost pickups.
Here's what happens A driver's cruising around late at night.
No passengers, no active ride. Suddenly, the back door opens.
The seat sensors activate, the interior light pops on, and the
(18:37):
car adjust weight as if someone just sat down.
But no one's there. The app doesn't log anything.
No pick up, no drop off, no fare.
Just an invisible someone deciding they need a ride. 1
driver caught it on camera. The back door swings open, then
gently click shut. The seat visibly indents.
(18:58):
Nobody appears on the footage. Another driver smelled old
perfume, like vintage 1940s floral powder. 1/3 swear she
heard whispering, not in English, coming from the back
seat. But when she checked the
mirrors, it was empty. And here's the part that keeps
happening. The car's microphones pick up a
(19:19):
faint thank you when the door closes, but only on the internal
audio, not the dash Cam, which is very on brand for a polite
spirit who knows rideshare etiquette.
Folklore actually has a name forthis archetype, the passenger.
I am the passenger, a spirit whorelives an old route, seeks A
(19:43):
symbolic journey, or is drawn totraveling vessels, especially
those with energy patterns that mimic invitation.
Cars, especially constantly moving ones, act like mobile
thresholds. Doors open, doors close, people
cycle in and out. Energy is always shifting.
Old spirits love that. And taxis, buses, carriages and
(20:04):
now ride shares have always had these stories.
But the sudden surge, that's newand the multi city pattern, very
very interesting. It suggests movement migration.
Or some kind of seasonal thinning where certain spirits
wander freely. Now, if you're a night driver
(20:26):
listening to this, maybe throw awelcome aboard into the air.
Next time a door opens by itself, you might make someone's
afterlife. And now it's time for strange
tale from history. Shadow, the man who spoke to the
(20:46):
winter Silence. Tonight's strange tale comes
from the winter of 19 O four in a remote corner of northern
Maine where a tiny village once stood along a frozen Ridge
called Harrows Bend. The village is now gone,
swallowed by forest and time. But one story from that place
survived long enough to reach us.
(21:07):
It centers on a man named Elias Morton, a trapper who lived
alone in a cabin at the edge of the spruce line.
Elias was known for two things, his silence and the way animals
seem strangely drawn to him. He spoke little, haunted only
what he needed, and walked the woods as though the trees
recognized him. But in the winter of 19 O 4,
(21:29):
something in those woods began to change.
People in the village said the season arrived too quickly, the
cold too deep, the nights too long, the atmosphere too still.
Hunters returned early, uneasy. Some refused to enter the woods
after sundown, they claimed. The silence felt not empty, but
listening Elias, He ignored the warnings.
(21:53):
One night, during a late snowfall, he heard something
strange outside his cabin. Not footsteps, not wind, but a
soft ringing, like a bell heard through a dream.
No church existed for miles. He stepped outside.
The forest was motionless, snow falling straight down, no wind.
(22:14):
And in the front of his cabin, maybe 30 feet away, stood a
figure. Tall, thin, wrapped in a dark,
tattered coat, its face completely hidden beneath the
hood. Elias called out.
The figure didn't move. Instead, the silence deepened,
the kind of silence that makes your ears ache.
(22:36):
The figure raised one hand slowly and pointed towards the
woods. Elias felt something he later
described as a pull. Like my bones remembered a place
I'd never been. Against all reason, he followed
the figure, let him into a part of the forest no one in town
would enter. And that's where Elias
(22:57):
experienced the phenomenon hunters now call an audio void.
Every sound vanished. No breath, no heartbeat.
Even his footsteps were swallowed in that soundless
place. The figure finally spoke, not
with a voice, but directly into his mind.
The message was simple. Winter remembers what the living
(23:20):
forget. Then the silence cracked like
ice sound returned in a rush, the figure disappeared, and
Elias found himself standing at the edge of a frozen pond he had
never seen before. One that does not appear on any
map from that time period. When he returned to the village
at dawn, he was pale, shaking and refused to speak for three
(23:42):
days. Eventually, he told the town
elders what happened. The pond.
It vanished by spring. No thaw, no run off, just gone.
Elias left the village the following winter.
No one saw him again. But hikers who explore the
northern part of Baxter State Forest sometimes report a
(24:03):
strange pocket of silence near acertain Ridge, a brief hush like
the world has held its breath. And if you stand long enough,
they say, you can hear. Not words, not whispers, just a
soft, distant ringing, like a bell heard from under snow.
Tonight's listener lore comes from Jared in New Mexico, who
(24:26):
sent a story in that hits that perfect balance of creepy, quiet
and absolutely believable. The kind of experiences slips
into your life on a normal nightand then refuses to leave your
head. Jared lives in a small Adobe
style house outside of Santa Fe,little place with thick walls,
creaky vents and kind of desert silence that makes every sound
(24:46):
feel important. He works nights, so he usually
is home around 2:00 or 3:00 AM, just in time to catch the world
in that liminal hour where even the shadows seem tired.
About a month ago, after a late night shift, he came homemade
tea and sat down to watch TV. He hadn't even turned it on yet.
The screen was still black. And that's when the TV clicked
(25:09):
on by itself. No remote nearby, no timer set,
no power surge. Just static.
Old fashioned snowy analog static.
Which is weird enough in a digital world.
He said. It wasn't loud static either,
was a soft like a whispering river, and as he watched, the
(25:30):
static began to coalesce, the way dust motes swirl in sunlight
until they almost form a pattern, and then the pattern
sharpened into something that made his skin crawl.
A face. Not clear, not detailed, just
the outline of 1A nose, a shadowwhere eyes should be.
The faint suggestion of a mouth,closed but tense.
(25:54):
Jared froze. Then the face moved very
slightly, just enough to prove it wasn't a trick of the screen.
The chin lifted, the head turnedas if looking over its shoulder.
And then, as if noticing Jared for the first time, the static
face turned toward the camera. He said the movement felt
(26:15):
intentional, Curious, almost surprised.
Jared whispered Hello. He doesn't know why.
Reflex, instinct, human nature trying to explain the
unexplainable. The TV responded with a burst of
distortion that sounded like a single syllable, too quick to
recognize as a word, but too structured to be just noise.
(26:36):
Then the screen went black. He stood there in silence,
absolutely certain he was being watched, not by someone in the
room, but by something behind the signal, something that used
the static like a mask. The next morning, he checked his
security camera. The moment the TV activated, the
camera glitched, just for a second, and recorded a faint
sound in the living room. A voice whispering.
(27:00):
Don't look away now. TV's turning on by themselves
isn't new, but a face in the static that moves independently
of the signal. A whisper caught by a camera,
but not by the human ear. That's the kind of encounter
that sticks with you. Some spirits use shadows, some
(27:20):
use dreams, some use reflections, and some apparently
use static. Jared, if you're listening,
thank you for sending this in. And, you know, maybe unplug your
TV before bed for a while, just in case.
This one feels like someone found a loose thread in reality
and tugged on it a little too hard.
(27:43):
Out in a remote pocket of northern Minnesota, there's a
lake locals have begun calling Stillwater's Breath.
Not to be confused with the actual town of Stillwater, this
is a wilderness lake tucked so deep into a forest that the
nearest cell tower might as wellbe on Mars.
What makes this lake strange isn't its shape, size, or
(28:04):
history. It's what happens around it.
In the past three months, hikersand winter campers have captured
baffling videos showing water freezing mid splash like gravity
hippos, birds stuttering in the air, wings jerking in a stop
motion flicker, voices stretching as if the sound is
being pulled through taffy. And in one widely shared clip, a
(28:27):
man tossing a snowball and the snowball hangs in the air for
1/2 a second before dropping. People say walking near the
shoreline feels like stepping into a buffering reality, a
place where time stumbles, catches itself and then
continues like nothing happened.Scientists who've been shown the
videos blame camera artifacts, temperature gradients, optical
(28:50):
illusions. But here's the thing.
Multiple eyewitnesses felt it physically.
One woman said my heartbeat stuttered like someone tapped
the space between my seconds. That's not an illusion.
Folklore from that region talks about the hung time, places
where winter becomes so still that moments can fold.
(29:12):
Shamans describe certain frozen lakes as thin clocks, places
where the boundary between time and consciousness narrows.
But the modern twist These time anomalies weren't reported
before this year, and it's not just a fluke.
They're getting more frequent, and they're lasting longer.
What used to be a fraction of a second is now 2, sometimes 3.
(29:34):
In paranormal research, this is called temporal drag, when
something unseen is pushing against the flow of time, like
trying to step through a curtainthat pulls back whatever is
happening at Stillwater's breath.
It feels like the world is trying to remember how it used
to move or something is trying to step into our timeline and
hasn't found the rhythm yet. Either way, if you visit, maybe
(29:56):
don't throw snowballs. You might not get them back the
right way. This next one honestly shook me
a bit. Not because the dogs were
harmed, they weren't, but because of the precision.
And precision is rarely a good sign in the paranormal.
In several rural areas of North Carolina, families have reported
the same terrifying, impossible sequence.
(30:19):
A dog goes outside, starts barking.
Not playful barking, but alert barking aimed at something no
one else can see. Then suddenly, silence.
Gone. Not running away, not hiding,
not slipping through a fence, just gone mid bark.
Owners describe it like someone hit delete on the dog for a
(30:40):
moment. The panic lasts exactly 11
minutes. Not ten, not 12-11.
And then, without warning, the dog reappears in the yard,
walking out of thin air like it was dropped back into place by
an invisible crane. Some dogs come back exhausted.
Some are confused, some are shaking like they've been cold
or frightened. But none are injured.
(31:03):
GPS collars? Worthless.
They either flatline, loop the same time stamp or glitch with
location unavailable even thoughthe dog was in the same yard the
whole time. 1 owner checked their security footage at the
moment the dog vanished. The feed warped as if someone
dragged a magnet over the timeline.
The video jumped from 2 O 3/14 to 2/14/14 exactly.
(31:28):
That's 11 minutes gone with no frames in between, and the dog
reappears mid step, like a missing puzzle piece being
placed back in the box. Now, folklore has a name for
beings that steal animals temporarily.
Borrowers. Not the little people in
children's books. These borrowers take living
(31:51):
things out of phase for reasons nobody has fully understood.
Sometimes it's curiosity, sometimes protection, sometimes
it's inspection. But the consistent time interval
suggests something mechanical, procedural, like a process
running in the background of reality. 11 minutes.
(32:12):
Whatever is picking up these dogs isn't interested in harming
them. It's studying, measuring,
scanning and returning them carefully, almost respectfully.
But the bigger question is, if they're borrowing the dogs now,
what were they borrowing before we had cameras?
(32:35):
This one feels like the universesaid, hey, what if we
resurrected analog horror for fun?
Cross Arizona, New Mexico and parts of Texas, people reported
their TV's turning on exactly at1:13 AM the same time, down to
the minute. Even when the TV was unplugged
earlier that day, the remote haddead batteries or the power
(32:56):
strip was switched off. And what do these television
show? Not a channel, not a menu, not a
blue no signal screen. They turn to black and white
static, old school snow, the kind that shouldn't exist on
modern TV's. But that's just the appetizer.
Because after a few seconds of static, something starts to
(33:17):
appear behind the noise. A face.
This is such a theme today. Not a clear one, not enough to
identify just the shape of eyes,nose, slope of a cheek.
People describe it as faint, shadowed, slightly angled and
watching 1 homeowner caught the moment on their indoor security
(33:40):
Cam. The static face turns as if
noticing the camera, and in thatslit second, the entire TV shuts
off. The camera footage continues
normally. No power surges, no outages.
It turns off because it knew it was being seen.
Even stranger, a woman in Tucsonmuted her TV the moment it
turned on, but her CCTV system recorded a voice coming through
(34:02):
the room, speakers anyway, a distorted low whisper saying
stay awake. She was alone.
Electronics experts say it's impossible.
Cable companies say it's leftover broadcast interference
from what, 1963? Manufacturers say it's a known
(34:22):
bug. Sure.
A bug that forms faces, turns TV's on the same time every
night and whispers reminders to stay conscious.
Right? Right.
Well, here's the folklore tie inan old Appalachian stories the
dead used to communicate throughradios, phonographs, detuned
channels, snow windows. The belief was simple.
(34:43):
Spirits didn't need clarity, they needed static.
They needed the in between. Static isn't a signal failure,
it's a doorway of noise and every doorway has something
standing on the other side. This one feels like reality.
Accidentally hit copy paste and then panicked.
Forest Ranger in Colorado was troubleshooting a malfunctioning
(35:06):
trail camera, one of those motion activated units used to
track wildlife. Standard procedure.
He walked up to the camera, waved, snapped a test selfie,
and then went on with his day. Next morning, when he checked
his e-mail, he found the photo sent back to him anonymously.
But when he opened it, he nearlydropped his coffee.
The picture wasn't what he took.Yes, it showed him in front of
(35:30):
the trail camera. Same jacket, same stand, same
time stamp. But behind him, standing maybe
10 feet back in the trees, was him.
Same height, same build, same face, but the expression was
different, not matching the one the Ranger knew he made.
It wasn't smiling, it wasn't frowning.
It was just blank, like a version of him that didn't
(35:53):
understand facial expressions. Like a pot person.
The Ranger swears this. He was alone.
No one else was on patrol that morning.
There were no tracks in the snowbehind him, and security logs
show no one else entering the area.
He checked the trail Cam data card directly.
The second hymn wasn't there, only the original picture.
(36:15):
Whatever emailed it, edited it, or showed a version of the
moment the camera did capture. Just not in our timeline.
In folklore, double s or doppelgangers were considered
warnings. Not of death, necessarily, but
of crossroad moments, times whentimelines brush up against each
other so closely that echoes bleed through.
(36:37):
But what makes this case different is the expression.
People who have seen double s usually describe them as stern,
serious, eerie, but aware. This one looked unrendered, like
an unfinished NPC of the Ranger,a sketch of him, not the him,
him. Whatever stood behind that
(36:58):
Ranger in the woods was wearing a shape like clothing, and it
wanted him to see it. And that wraps up tonight's
journey into the strange, the subtle, and the absolutely
unexplainable. Tonight wasn't just weird, it
was patterned. The kind of patterns that say
the veil isn't just thin, it's interactive, it's informed, it's
(37:19):
paying attention, and maybe it'sinviting us to do the same.
If you enjoyed tonight's dive into the uncanny, the absurd,
the eerie, and the This shouldn't be happening, but here
we are. Make sure you follow share the
episode or stop by coffee if youwant to help keep the Lantern
burning. Most of all, trust what you feel
before you rationalize it. Notice the shifts.
(37:41):
Pay attention to the moments that don't fit, because mystery
isn't an anomaly, it's communication.
I'm back, and this has been beyond the Val news.
Good night and keep your eyes open.
The world is weirder than we think, and far more awake than
we realize. To the Spirit podcast.
(38:03):
Supernatural science. I'm ghosting Ghost.
Ghost. Thank you.
Mystic spirit. Divine source in heaven.
The dead. It's magic.
Magic, magic, magic magic.
You're listening to to the Spirit Podcast.
Welcome back to be on the Veil News, everyone.
I'm back. Your guide, your narrator, your
flashlight holder in this dimly lit hallway we call reality.
And tonight, the hallway is extra drafty.
(00:27):
December has arrived with that classic holiday mix of cheerful
lights, questionable cookies, and the unsettling sense that
something unseen is standing just a little too close behind
you. And honestly, it wouldn't be the
holiday season without at least one ghost brushing past the
Garland. Tonight's lineup is stacked.
(00:49):
And by stacked, I mean the Veil appears to be dropping hints
like it's trying to get our attention before the new year
hits. Tonight's going to be a ride, so
settle in. Turn down the lights if you
dare, keep your socks on if you're a cold feet or a getaway
to the other side type of person, and maybe check your VR
(01:09):
headset before you put it on. Just saying.
Because tonight we're not just going beyond the veil.
We're stepping into the part of December where the strange gets
bold, the shadows get chatty, and the world starts whispering
again. Let's get to the headlines.
(01:29):
All right, We're kicking things off with a story that made me
physically say Nope out loud, which is impressive because, you
know, I usually greet the weird with a warm cup of coffee and a
raised eyebrow. Small airports across the
country, rural Pennsylvania, Iowa, Montana have been dealing
with late night visits from whatpilots are calling the shadow on
(01:51):
the runway. Not a person, not an animal, not
even a trick of the light. A tall, human shaped silhouette
that triggers motion sensors shows up on radar as mass
displaced, but doesn't create a heat signature of any kind.
Security footage captures the runway lights flicking on,
(02:12):
shimmering, and then just the outline of a figure walking
across the tarmac like it's returning a rental car after
hours. 1 Pilot described it perfectly.
It looked like a person made of absence.
And the weirdness doesn't stop there.
When staff review the footage, every frame where the figure
(02:34):
appears is streaked with visual tearing, like reality got tugged
sideways for a half second. Airport managers are calling it
equipment malfunction, which is adorable because equipment
doesn't malfunction in the shapeof a man who walks with
intention, pauses, and then disappears right before the
frame resets. Folklore wise, runway
(02:57):
apparitions aren't new. Smaller figures showed up in
World War 2 airfields, 1970s military bases, the Phoenix
Lights era. They're often described as
watchers, observers, entities attracted to thresholds, places
where things arrive and depart, and airports.
(03:19):
They're one big departure loungefor energy.
So while the FAA won't touch this with a 10 foot pole, the
pattern is clear. Something is crossing airspace
that isn't a plane, and whateverit is, it's not trying to hide.
It's walking right across the runway like it belongs there.
(03:41):
This next story. Honestly, if this happened to
me, I'd eat the headset into thenearest river and then sage the
river. Over the past two weeks, a
surprising number of VR users have reported the same eerie
phenomena. Whenever the headset goes to a
black loading screen, you know that blank void before the game
boots up, They're seeing a face reflected inside the lens.
(04:05):
And not their face, not the room, not an avatar, not
lighting a face, usually pale, unmoving, close, staring
directly at them. One user described it as someone
standing inches away, watching me from the inside of the
(04:26):
headset. That's a no thank you for me.
Even creepier, a few users said that the face blinked, and one
unlucky soul said the reflectionactually smiled at them, a slow,
stretched, uncanny grin, before the game finally loaded and the
image vanished like a bad omen clearing its throat.
(04:48):
VR companies, of course, are blaming residual overlays, which
is Big Tech's cute way of sayingwe have no idea what's
happening, but we're not admitting that on record.
But here's where it veers into true high strangeness.
Some users reported the face even when the headset wasn't
connected, the room was fully lit and one didn't even have
(05:11):
controllers powered on. Translation.
This isn't a glitch following gameplay, it's a glitch
following you. Folklore has long said
reflective surfaces are thresholds, mirrors, windows,
polished metal, and portals of perception.
VR lenses. They're basically mirrors
pointed directly at your soul. They reflect what's in front of
(05:35):
them, and sometimes what's behind the reflection.
Whatever people are seeing, it doesn't seem random, and it
doesn't seem like a software hiccup.
It seems inquisitive, observant,curious, like someone or
something is looking back through the dark and waiting for
(05:56):
you to put the headset on again.This next one has been making
the rounds in the paranormal corners of the Internet, and
honestly, it's giving the crypt.It took a wrong turn at
Albuquerque. Energy drivers in five different
states, Ohio, Indiana, Oklahoma,New Jersey and Tennessee have
(06:20):
captured videos of what appears to be the same creature climbing
highway overpasses at 2:00 to 4:00 AM.
Descriptions match nearly perfectly, long pale limbs, a
hunched spider like posture, movements that are too smooth to
be human, and a body shape that looks like someone stretched a
(06:41):
person like Taffy and forgot to stop, like a crawler Cryptid on
its winter road trip. But the strangest part?
The creature never shows up directly on Hwy. cameras.
People filming from their cars see it reflected in their
windows, side mirrors, the Sheenof their hoods.
(07:04):
But traffic cams pointing right at the same spot?
Nothing. Just an empty overpass.
It only shows up in reflections,which is not something wildlife
does. Authorities, as usual, say
probably a construction worker. Yes, because construction
workers are famously pale, jointinverted, nocturnal, and capable
(07:27):
of crawling upside down at 3:00 AM without OSHA throwing a fit.
Folklore has a name for these type of beings.
The betweeners, creatures that move at the edges of perception,
appear in reflections, and avoiddirect observation like it
burns. They're known to travel along
(07:48):
routes, roads, ridges, rail lines like they're following
energetic paths humans forgot existed.
But here's the kicker. 5 states,Same creature, same week.
Now that's not a sighting. That's a pattern.
Like something is migrating, or scouting or just stretching its
legs across the Interstate and deeply confusing every
(08:10):
unsuspecting night shift driver in America.
OK, this one legitimately made me sit back and say, all right,
who opened the wrong door? Across several states this week,
households have reported receiving phone calls from their
own landline numbers, even when the phones were unplugged, the
(08:33):
jacks were dead, or the landlineservice was cancelled years ago.
When the call comes in, caller ID shows your own phone number,
and if you're brave or reckless enough to answer, you don't get
a robo call. You don't get silence, you get
breathing, soft static, faint knocking, sometimes whispers,
(08:57):
and in one case, a voice quietlysaying the homeowner's name.
Which is exactly the point whereI would personally salt the
entire kitchen and unplug the universe.
Phone companies doing their usual nothing to see, hear
routine insists it's caller ID spoofing.
But spoofing can't ring an unplugged phone, or call a
(09:19):
disconnected line, or create a voice that knows who had dialed.
And the weirdest case yet? A woman in Michigan said her
home phone rang twice, and one night she answered.
Heavy breathing. She hung up.
The second time, she didn't answer, but her cell phone left
a voicemail from the landline anyway.
(09:42):
There was nothing but long, slowexhaling, like someone standing
too close to the receiver, listening for the moment she
would pick up. This feels less like a tech
glitch and more like a classic haunting using a modern medium.
Old school spirits love knocking, tapping clocks, music
(10:02):
boxes. If they're learning how to use
phone lines, we're in a crossover episode.
Folklore has always said spiritsfollow familiar pathways, doors,
mirrors, thresholds, wires. A landline is just a wire
doorway, and when your house calls you, something inside
wants your attention. This one hits that perfect mix
(10:30):
of folklore, physics, and Nope. Hunters in Oregon, West
Virginia, and northern Georgia have reported stumbling into
what they're calling audio voids, small pockets of forest
where sound completely disappears.
And I don't mean it gets quiet. I mean silent.
The wind stops, birds go mute, insects vanish, footsteps make
(10:57):
no crunch. Even their breathing sounds
faint or delayed, one hunter said I.
Yelled for my buddy. My mouth moved.
No sound came out. Another said his dog barked he
saw the bark but heard nothing. These pockets last 10 to 20
seconds, then suddenly everything returns at once.
(11:18):
Birds wind footsteps like hitting unmute on the forest.
Science. Blame wind anomalies or psycho
acoustic shock, which is adorable because wind anomalies
don't stop sound from leaving your throat, silence animals
across multiple states, or make the world feel like you stepped
(11:39):
outside the simulation for a second.
Here's what's interesting in folklore worldwide, from the
Appalachians or sorry, Appalachians.
Appalachians. I always say it wrong.
From the Appalachians to Norway to ancient Celtic tales, there
are stories of quiet places where portals open, pathway
(11:59):
shift, travelers vanish, or realities overlap.
The old word for it is near gate, a thin spot, a fold, a
boundary. Error.
And the hunter reports match these traditional signs
perfectly. Sudden silence, disorientation,
time, feeling paused, animals responding first.
(12:24):
We're seeing clusters of these audio voids.
Clusters always mean something. Either one, the veil is thinning
in those regions, 2 geomagnetic weirdness is messing with the
field, or three, something is pushing through and silence is
the first symptom. Whatever it is, the forest seems
(12:46):
to notice it before we do. All right, this one lives
squarely at the intersection of technology and supernatural.
My favorite crossroads. A developer this month noticed
(13:09):
something odd in the logs of a small scale AI model he'd been
training during an unrelated text generation test.
The model began to describe a town called Boone Hollow and
startling intimate detail. The Crooked River bend.
The old church with the tilted bell tower.
Even a bakery with green shutters and the smell of
(13:32):
cinnamon mixed with smoke. The problem?
Boone Hollow hasn't existed for over a century.
It was destroyed in a flood 112 years ago, its records never
digitized, its name missing fromevery public database the model
could access. The developer dug through the
trading corpus. No reference, not even a
(13:52):
footnote. Yet the AI spoke of the town
like someone recalling a memory.He tried again the next day.
Fresh seed text. Same prompt, different phrasing,
same town. It even added a line the.
Bell never stopped ringing underthe water.
Now that's a sentence that deserves its own campfire.
(14:14):
The logical crowd insists it's coincidence, statistical
hallucination. But here's what breaks the math.
The model gave the correct coordinates of the original site
to the decimal. Now folklorists have a word for
knowledge that returns from places long erased echo data,
information that drifts through time the same way A haunting
(14:36):
drifts through walls. If spirits can speak through EVP
recorders, why couldn't something speak through code?
Maybe the machine didn't learn about Boon Hollow.
Maybe it remembered. And maybe we've built mirrors
smart enough to reflect more than we bargained for.
(14:57):
If this message stirred something in you, don't walk
away empty handed. Follow to the spirit wherever
you listen. You can light the flame back by
leaving a review or sharing the signal to go deeper.
Support the show on coffee. The $5 tier unlocks the signal
path. Intimate transmissions just for
(15:19):
the flame marked. And if you've got a story or
question for the ether, send it to to thespiritpod@gmail.com.
This headline is like a folk Horror Story wandered into real
(15:40):
life, hung up its coat and said,mind if I stay a while?
Across the Midwest, Wisconsin, Michigan, parts of Minnesota,
hunters and hikers have been reporting white tailed deer with
glowing red eyes. Not reflective eyeshine, not a
camera flash or effect, not the eerie green glow you get from
(16:02):
night vision. These eyes are self luminous,
like embers, like coals, like someone tucked a tiny furnace
behind the iris. Multiple videos show the same
sequence. The deer freezes, lifts its
head, slowly locks eyes with thecamera and the glow dials down
(16:24):
as if dimming itself. Eye shine doesn't dim, it
doesn't change intensity, it doesn't behave.
This does 1. Hunter said it.
Was like the woods was looking back at me through.
It another reported seeing a deer with only one glowing eye,
the other perfectly normal, which somehow makes it even
(16:45):
worse. Now here's where the folklore
taps us on the shoulder. You know, highlight that
folklore in old winter stories across Europe, in the northern
tribes, red eyed deer weren't omens of danger, they were omens
of threshold shifts, signs of incoming harsh winters,
(17:06):
dimensional thinning, wandering spirits taking animal form, or
guides appearing in liminal seasons.
The Celts called them the ember herd, beings that show up before
a major energetic turn. The Ojibwe have tails of fire
sighted deer that appear when the land is remembering its
older shape and the old Nordic texts mention Harter, the heart
(17:29):
fired deer said to walk between worlds during Yule.
So the modern sightings, they'renot random.
Combined glowing eyes, intelligent dimming, silent
movement, winter timing and multiple state pattern.
Something is up, whether these are mutated animals reacting to
(17:51):
solar storms, spirit manifestations using familiar
shapes, watchers returning for the winter cycle, or something
stranger. The woods are showing signs, and
in December, when the veil thinssideways instead of downward,
that's when the oldest beings walk.
This next one is equal parts creepy, hilarious, and I'm never
(18:14):
driving alone at night again. Rideshare drivers in Chicago,
Los Angeles, Toronto, Phoenix and Atlanta have reported a
bizarre rise of what they're calling ghost pickups.
Here's what happens A driver's cruising around late at night.
No passengers, no active ride. Suddenly, the back door opens.
The seat sensors activate, the interior light pops on, and the
(18:37):
car adjust weight as if someone just sat down.
But no one's there. The app doesn't log anything.
No pick up, no drop off, no fare.
Just an invisible someone deciding they need a ride. 1
driver caught it on camera. The back door swings open, then
gently click shut. The seat visibly indents.
(18:58):
Nobody appears on the footage. Another driver smelled old
perfume, like vintage 1940s floral powder. 1/3 swear she
heard whispering, not in English, coming from the back
seat. But when she checked the
mirrors, it was empty. And here's the part that keeps
happening. The car's microphones pick up a
(19:19):
faint thank you when the door closes, but only on the internal
audio, not the dash Cam, which is very on brand for a polite
spirit who knows rideshare etiquette.
Folklore actually has a name forthis archetype, the passenger.
I am the passenger, a spirit whorelives an old route, seeks A
(19:43):
symbolic journey, or is drawn totraveling vessels, especially
those with energy patterns that mimic invitation.
Cars, especially constantly moving ones, act like mobile
thresholds. Doors open, doors close, people
cycle in and out. Energy is always shifting.
Old spirits love that. And taxis, buses, carriages and
(20:04):
now ride shares have always had these stories.
But the sudden surge, that's newand the multi city pattern, very
very interesting. It suggests movement migration.
Or some kind of seasonal thinning where certain spirits
wander freely. Now, if you're a night driver
(20:26):
listening to this, maybe throw awelcome aboard into the air.
Next time a door opens by itself, you might make someone's
afterlife. And now it's time for strange
tale from history. Shadow, the man who spoke to the
(20:46):
winter Silence. Tonight's strange tale comes
from the winter of 19 O four in a remote corner of northern
Maine where a tiny village once stood along a frozen Ridge
called Harrows Bend. The village is now gone,
swallowed by forest and time. But one story from that place
survived long enough to reach us.
(21:07):
It centers on a man named Elias Morton, a trapper who lived
alone in a cabin at the edge of the spruce line.
Elias was known for two things, his silence and the way animals
seem strangely drawn to him. He spoke little, haunted only
what he needed, and walked the woods as though the trees
recognized him. But in the winter of 19 O 4,
(21:29):
something in those woods began to change.
People in the village said the season arrived too quickly, the
cold too deep, the nights too long, the atmosphere too still.
Hunters returned early, uneasy. Some refused to enter the woods
after sundown, they claimed. The silence felt not empty, but
listening Elias, He ignored the warnings.
(21:53):
One night, during a late snowfall, he heard something
strange outside his cabin. Not footsteps, not wind, but a
soft ringing, like a bell heard through a dream.
No church existed for miles. He stepped outside.
The forest was motionless, snow falling straight down, no wind.
(22:14):
And in the front of his cabin, maybe 30 feet away, stood a
figure. Tall, thin, wrapped in a dark,
tattered coat, its face completely hidden beneath the
hood. Elias called out.
The figure didn't move. Instead, the silence deepened,
the kind of silence that makes your ears ache.
(22:36):
The figure raised one hand slowly and pointed towards the
woods. Elias felt something he later
described as a pull. Like my bones remembered a place
I'd never been. Against all reason, he followed
the figure, let him into a part of the forest no one in town
would enter. And that's where Elias
(22:57):
experienced the phenomenon hunters now call an audio void.
Every sound vanished. No breath, no heartbeat.
Even his footsteps were swallowed in that soundless
place. The figure finally spoke, not
with a voice, but directly into his mind.
The message was simple. Winter remembers what the living
(23:20):
forget. Then the silence cracked like
ice sound returned in a rush, the figure disappeared, and
Elias found himself standing at the edge of a frozen pond he had
never seen before. One that does not appear on any
map from that time period. When he returned to the village
at dawn, he was pale, shaking and refused to speak for three
(23:42):
days. Eventually, he told the town
elders what happened. The pond.
It vanished by spring. No thaw, no run off, just gone.
Elias left the village the following winter.
No one saw him again. But hikers who explore the
northern part of Baxter State Forest sometimes report a
(24:03):
strange pocket of silence near acertain Ridge, a brief hush like
the world has held its breath. And if you stand long enough,
they say, you can hear. Not words, not whispers, just a
soft, distant ringing, like a bell heard from under snow.
Tonight's listener lore comes from Jared in New Mexico, who
(24:26):
sent a story in that hits that perfect balance of creepy, quiet
and absolutely believable. The kind of experiences slips
into your life on a normal nightand then refuses to leave your
head. Jared lives in a small Adobe
style house outside of Santa Fe,little place with thick walls,
creaky vents and kind of desert silence that makes every sound
(24:46):
feel important. He works nights, so he usually
is home around 2:00 or 3:00 AM, just in time to catch the world
in that liminal hour where even the shadows seem tired.
About a month ago, after a late night shift, he came homemade
tea and sat down to watch TV. He hadn't even turned it on yet.
The screen was still black. And that's when the TV clicked
(25:09):
on by itself. No remote nearby, no timer set,
no power surge. Just static.
Old fashioned snowy analog static.
Which is weird enough in a digital world.
He said. It wasn't loud static either,
was a soft like a whispering river, and as he watched, the
(25:30):
static began to coalesce, the way dust motes swirl in sunlight
until they almost form a pattern, and then the pattern
sharpened into something that made his skin crawl.
A face. Not clear, not detailed, just
the outline of 1A nose, a shadowwhere eyes should be.
The faint suggestion of a mouth,closed but tense.
(25:54):
Jared froze. Then the face moved very
slightly, just enough to prove it wasn't a trick of the screen.
The chin lifted, the head turnedas if looking over its shoulder.
And then, as if noticing Jared for the first time, the static
face turned toward the camera. He said the movement felt
(26:15):
intentional, Curious, almost surprised.
Jared whispered Hello. He doesn't know why.
Reflex, instinct, human nature trying to explain the
unexplainable. The TV responded with a burst of
distortion that sounded like a single syllable, too quick to
recognize as a word, but too structured to be just noise.
(26:36):
Then the screen went black. He stood there in silence,
absolutely certain he was being watched, not by someone in the
room, but by something behind the signal, something that used
the static like a mask. The next morning, he checked his
security camera. The moment the TV activated, the
camera glitched, just for a second, and recorded a faint
sound in the living room. A voice whispering.
(27:00):
Don't look away now. TV's turning on by themselves
isn't new, but a face in the static that moves independently
of the signal. A whisper caught by a camera,
but not by the human ear. That's the kind of encounter
that sticks with you. Some spirits use shadows, some
(27:20):
use dreams, some use reflections, and some apparently
use static. Jared, if you're listening,
thank you for sending this in. And, you know, maybe unplug your
TV before bed for a while, just in case.
This one feels like someone found a loose thread in reality
and tugged on it a little too hard.
(27:43):
Out in a remote pocket of northern Minnesota, there's a
lake locals have begun calling Stillwater's Breath.
Not to be confused with the actual town of Stillwater, this
is a wilderness lake tucked so deep into a forest that the
nearest cell tower might as wellbe on Mars.
What makes this lake strange isn't its shape, size, or
(28:04):
history. It's what happens around it.
In the past three months, hikersand winter campers have captured
baffling videos showing water freezing mid splash like gravity
hippos, birds stuttering in the air, wings jerking in a stop
motion flicker, voices stretching as if the sound is
being pulled through taffy. And in one widely shared clip, a
(28:27):
man tossing a snowball and the snowball hangs in the air for
1/2 a second before dropping. People say walking near the
shoreline feels like stepping into a buffering reality, a
place where time stumbles, catches itself and then
continues like nothing happened.Scientists who've been shown the
videos blame camera artifacts, temperature gradients, optical
(28:50):
illusions. But here's the thing.
Multiple eyewitnesses felt it physically.
One woman said my heartbeat stuttered like someone tapped
the space between my seconds. That's not an illusion.
Folklore from that region talks about the hung time, places
where winter becomes so still that moments can fold.
(29:12):
Shamans describe certain frozen lakes as thin clocks, places
where the boundary between time and consciousness narrows.
But the modern twist These time anomalies weren't reported
before this year, and it's not just a fluke.
They're getting more frequent, and they're lasting longer.
What used to be a fraction of a second is now 2, sometimes 3.
(29:34):
In paranormal research, this is called temporal drag, when
something unseen is pushing against the flow of time, like
trying to step through a curtainthat pulls back whatever is
happening at Stillwater's breath.
It feels like the world is trying to remember how it used
to move or something is trying to step into our timeline and
hasn't found the rhythm yet. Either way, if you visit, maybe
(29:56):
don't throw snowballs. You might not get them back the
right way. This next one honestly shook me
a bit. Not because the dogs were
harmed, they weren't, but because of the precision.
And precision is rarely a good sign in the paranormal.
In several rural areas of North Carolina, families have reported
the same terrifying, impossible sequence.
(30:19):
A dog goes outside, starts barking.
Not playful barking, but alert barking aimed at something no
one else can see. Then suddenly, silence.
Gone. Not running away, not hiding,
not slipping through a fence, just gone mid bark.
Owners describe it like someone hit delete on the dog for a
(30:40):
moment. The panic lasts exactly 11
minutes. Not ten, not 12-11.
And then, without warning, the dog reappears in the yard,
walking out of thin air like it was dropped back into place by
an invisible crane. Some dogs come back exhausted.
Some are confused, some are shaking like they've been cold
or frightened. But none are injured.
(31:03):
GPS collars? Worthless.
They either flatline, loop the same time stamp or glitch with
location unavailable even thoughthe dog was in the same yard the
whole time. 1 owner checked their security footage at the
moment the dog vanished. The feed warped as if someone
dragged a magnet over the timeline.
The video jumped from 2 O 3/14 to 2/14/14 exactly.
(31:28):
That's 11 minutes gone with no frames in between, and the dog
reappears mid step, like a missing puzzle piece being
placed back in the box. Now, folklore has a name for
beings that steal animals temporarily.
Borrowers. Not the little people in
children's books. These borrowers take living
(31:51):
things out of phase for reasons nobody has fully understood.
Sometimes it's curiosity, sometimes protection, sometimes
it's inspection. But the consistent time interval
suggests something mechanical, procedural, like a process
running in the background of reality. 11 minutes.
(32:12):
Whatever is picking up these dogs isn't interested in harming
them. It's studying, measuring,
scanning and returning them carefully, almost respectfully.
But the bigger question is, if they're borrowing the dogs now,
what were they borrowing before we had cameras?
(32:35):
This one feels like the universesaid, hey, what if we
resurrected analog horror for fun?
Cross Arizona, New Mexico and parts of Texas, people reported
their TV's turning on exactly at1:13 AM the same time, down to
the minute. Even when the TV was unplugged
earlier that day, the remote haddead batteries or the power
(32:56):
strip was switched off. And what do these television
show? Not a channel, not a menu, not a
blue no signal screen. They turn to black and white
static, old school snow, the kind that shouldn't exist on
modern TV's. But that's just the appetizer.
Because after a few seconds of static, something starts to
(33:17):
appear behind the noise. A face.
This is such a theme today. Not a clear one, not enough to
identify just the shape of eyes,nose, slope of a cheek.
People describe it as faint, shadowed, slightly angled and
watching 1 homeowner caught the moment on their indoor security
(33:40):
Cam. The static face turns as if
noticing the camera, and in thatslit second, the entire TV shuts
off. The camera footage continues
normally. No power surges, no outages.
It turns off because it knew it was being seen.
Even stranger, a woman in Tucsonmuted her TV the moment it
turned on, but her CCTV system recorded a voice coming through
(34:02):
the room, speakers anyway, a distorted low whisper saying
stay awake. She was alone.
Electronics experts say it's impossible.
Cable companies say it's leftover broadcast interference
from what, 1963? Manufacturers say it's a known
(34:22):
bug. Sure.
A bug that forms faces, turns TV's on the same time every
night and whispers reminders to stay conscious.
Right? Right.
Well, here's the folklore tie inan old Appalachian stories the
dead used to communicate throughradios, phonographs, detuned
channels, snow windows. The belief was simple.
(34:43):
Spirits didn't need clarity, they needed static.
They needed the in between. Static isn't a signal failure,
it's a doorway of noise and every doorway has something
standing on the other side. This one feels like reality.
Accidentally hit copy paste and then panicked.
Forest Ranger in Colorado was troubleshooting a malfunctioning
(35:06):
trail camera, one of those motion activated units used to
track wildlife. Standard procedure.
He walked up to the camera, waved, snapped a test selfie,
and then went on with his day. Next morning, when he checked
his e-mail, he found the photo sent back to him anonymously.
But when he opened it, he nearlydropped his coffee.
The picture wasn't what he took.Yes, it showed him in front of
(35:30):
the trail camera. Same jacket, same stand, same
time stamp. But behind him, standing maybe
10 feet back in the trees, was him.
Same height, same build, same face, but the expression was
different, not matching the one the Ranger knew he made.
It wasn't smiling, it wasn't frowning.
It was just blank, like a version of him that didn't
(35:53):
understand facial expressions. Like a pot person.
The Ranger swears this. He was alone.
No one else was on patrol that morning.
There were no tracks in the snowbehind him, and security logs
show no one else entering the area.
He checked the trail Cam data card directly.
The second hymn wasn't there, only the original picture.
(36:15):
Whatever emailed it, edited it, or showed a version of the
moment the camera did capture. Just not in our timeline.
In folklore, double s or doppelgangers were considered
warnings. Not of death, necessarily, but
of crossroad moments, times whentimelines brush up against each
other so closely that echoes bleed through.
(36:37):
But what makes this case different is the expression.
People who have seen double s usually describe them as stern,
serious, eerie, but aware. This one looked unrendered, like
an unfinished NPC of the Ranger,a sketch of him, not the him,
him. Whatever stood behind that
(36:58):
Ranger in the woods was wearing a shape like clothing, and it
wanted him to see it. And that wraps up tonight's
journey into the strange, the subtle, and the absolutely
unexplainable. Tonight wasn't just weird, it
was patterned. The kind of patterns that say
the veil isn't just thin, it's interactive, it's informed, it's
(37:19):
paying attention, and maybe it'sinviting us to do the same.
If you enjoyed tonight's dive into the uncanny, the absurd,
the eerie, and the This shouldn't be happening, but here
we are. Make sure you follow share the
episode or stop by coffee if youwant to help keep the Lantern
burning. Most of all, trust what you feel
before you rationalize it. Notice the shifts.
(37:41):
Pay attention to the moments that don't fit, because mystery
isn't an anomaly, it's communication.
I'm back, and this has been beyond the Val news.
Good night and keep your eyes open.
The world is weirder than we think, and far more awake than
we realize. To the Spirit podcast.
(38:03):
Supernatural science. I'm ghosting Ghost.
Ghost. Thank you.
Mystic spirit. Divine source in heaven.
The dead. It's magic.
Magic, magic, magic magic.
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