Stories of Strange Creatures | Volume 3 | Podcast E356 - Supernatural StoryTime

Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Do you know what time it is? It's supernatural story time.
And if you're easily scared, and even if you're not,
there's only one they'd left to do, just turn off
the lights, because these are stories that you listen to
only in the dark. Stories of Strange Creatures, Volume three,

(00:23):
Story number one. I grew up in a funeral home.
I hopped out in the office when I was about fifteen.
We got a call from a man whose wife and
infant baby had been murdered in cold blood. There are
very few clues. It made headlines. Cops set up surveillance
at the viewing. It was heartbreaking as the mother was
holding the baby in her arms. I was asked to

(00:44):
take the flower cards and periodically get the husband and
ask if he recognize the names. I then photocopied them
and put them back. I did it because I was
a kid. People knew me, and I was unobstrusive. I
talked to the husband quite a bit. He seemed devastated
and shaken. The cops told me that, and I witnessed
to someone leaving the house the day of the murder.

(01:06):
The witness was a three year old girl. She recognized
the man leaving it was the husband's best friend. Turns
out that the friend and the husband had made a
pack to kill each other's families and run off with
their secretaries. The little girl identified the friend, and I
guess one of them cracked. They both went to jail
in multiple counts. All the testimony with three year old

(01:29):
I still cannot believe to this day at that man
stood right beside me multiple times and I had no clue.
I don't think I've ever looked at life the same
way after that next story. About five years ago, when
I was fourteen, my best friend and I went for
a walk on a hiking route in our village that
we knew existed, but never went there, so we didn't

(01:51):
know how long the hike would take. About halfway through,
it started to get dark. Outside the route was a
road through the woods that had no street lights whatsoever.
We called our friend that had a cross our bike
to come so we wouldn't be alone. He came, and
we continued our walk in complete darkness. He turned off
the bike because it was loud, and we pushed it along,

(02:12):
but we didn't use our flashlights because the moonlight illuminated
our path as we were walking and talking I heard
something about twenty feet away in the woods that sounded
like a loud scream but also crying at the same time.
I immediately stopped and looked at my friend because I
thought I was the only one who heard it, but
their terrified looks told me they heard it too. The

(02:35):
two of them jumped on the bike and I ran
after them to the first street light. We were panicking
and trying to find an explanation for that sound, maybe
some kind of animal, until I remember the story of
a direct Kavac. I lived in the Balkans, and I
don't think the name has a translation, but I would
call it maybe a howler or a screamer. Basically, it's

(02:58):
a mythological creature characteristic in the Balcons, and there are
probably twenty different beliefs of what it is. I told
my friend a story of what I heard and that
I thought it was a direct kabat and said that
it was the soul of a baby that died on baptized.
To this day, I get goosebumps when telling the story
to someone, and I remember like it happened yesterday. Next story,

(03:24):
my ex husband lived many of his childhood years and
what they thought was a haunted house. The stories from
there are weird, for sure, but I often wonder what
exactly the source of the haunting was. For instance, the
entire family would go out to do a family thing.
There were three kids and both parents, and there were
several times they came home to find their neighbors outside
watching their house because lights were turning on and off

(03:45):
all over the house. My former father in law was
very handy, so I tend to think if there was
an electrical issue in the house, he would have found
them probably even would have been able to fix it
fairly effortlessly. There are other stories, like when my ex
was really young, say around six or seven years old,
his sisters used to gang up on him and tease

(04:05):
him bad enough to make him cry. I mean he
was a little kid. He said. He used to talk
to this thing or whatever was in his house and
asked it to make his sisters leave him alone. Apparently
there was one incident where he chased his younger sister
into a room where she hid under the bed rar
in her closet. I can't remember now how the story went,

(04:25):
and it stayed by the door, not letting her out.
I often wondered this thing attached itself to my ex.
I do have a reason for bringing this up. Obviously
you can deduce that we are now divorced. He ended
up being a horrible husband and only a mediocre father,
so I left him. He targeted me with a lot
of misdirected anger for a few years before I gave

(04:48):
up and left him. Later on, I learned that his
mother was horribly abusive to him growing up. I mean
really bad. I'm sure she messed him up so bad
that it was difficult for him to have any kind
of a healthy relationship in his adult years because health
relationships were never modeled for him. His grandparents were basically
holes as well, and all died when he was young.

(05:10):
I really have to wonder if his family is dealing
with a generational possession of some sort. Takes a lot
for me to even bring this up, because I'm a
very much a skeptic. Strange things happened during our marriage too.
We bought a house shortly after getting married back in
two thousand and one. I'm a sensitive and I've always
been able to feel bad energy in a place. When

(05:33):
we bought that house, I'm telling you, it was perfectly clean.
There was nothing bad or negative there. The woods around
the house were peaceful. Moving out of the city into
this place seemed like a God send to me. But
soon after moving in, I would say maybe a year
or so, weird things began to take place. There was
one spot in the house that sounded like a radio,

(05:53):
like someone accidentally forgot to shut off one in another room.
It sounded like talk radio music, so I would get
up to shut it off, thinking it was the radio
in the kitchen, but nothing would be on. That happened
quite a lot, and I wasn't the only one to
hear it. And you would only hear it in that
one spottle of the house. Nowhere else. We had a

(06:16):
loft instead of an attic, and we would hear footsteps
up there, go check, and of course there would be nothing.
When my kids were born, things got really weird. After
they started talking. They would say things like they they
didn't want to sleep in the one bedroom because a
demon with red eyes lived in that room and he
would sit up by the seating in his corner all

(06:36):
the time. My oldest used to have night terror, screaming
like someone was killing him, waking up the entire house.
I could not console him. He was out of his
mind terrorized. I finally just moved him out of the
room and let him sleep in the same room as
me so he wouldn't be afraid at night. I stopped
sleeping in the same room as my ex around this

(06:56):
time because soon baby number two came and he had
to get up already four work, so I just stayed
in one room with the kids, away from where he slept.
Baby number three came soon after. I was so busy
with babies and so sleep deprived during this time. I
really can't say if all that happened in that house
was just because of my state of mind, or if

(07:17):
something was really messing with us. The dog slept with
my ex and the demon bedroom, and I have a
video of her looking up at that corner like she
actually saw something there, the same corner. My kids say
they saw it. My oldest was a teenager, he was
living up in the loft. One day while he was
just sitting there drawing a book that was on a shelf,

(07:38):
when flying across the room, not like it was aiming
for anything, just randomly. All three of the kids swore
they saw the red eyed demon when they were each
between the ages of two to about six, and the
same spot in the same bedroom that none of them
would sleep in. Only my ex would. My youngest swore
there were things in the woods that we looked in

(08:00):
the windows at us at night. Out a very large
Florida room that I divided into two rooms. The entire
wall to the outside was windows. It was a gorgeous
room with southern exposure. We had no neighbors behind us.
We started using these two spaces as bedrooms. I ended
up having to put up curtains because my youngest was
too afraid, thinking whatever was in the woods could see

(08:23):
him and watched him. I also would get a little
freaked up because the windows in there at night. For me,
it was the reflections. I always avoided looking at the
windows at night because with the lights on inside the
house and outside was pitch dark. The windows were like mirrors,
and I was afraid of what I would see, so
avoided looking at them at all. It was much better

(08:45):
when I put the curtains up. So there was a
lot of little things here and there in that house
over the twenty years that we owned it. After we
broke up, I was only too happy to let my
ex keep the house. I had no interest at all
in owning it. When I left, I took down all
the protection objects i'd put in all the windows to
take with me, And looking back, maybe I shouldn't have

(09:07):
done that. I'm really wondering if all that energy I
put into all the windows keeping negative energy out was
protecting my ex because after I left, his health seriously
declined to the point he could no longer work. Eventually
he couldn't pay the mortgage and he started foreclosure as
banks are wont to do, and he lost the house.

(09:28):
He was living there on borrowed time for a few
years until all legal possibilities were exhausted and he had
to leave, which was a very very recent time, only
a few weeks ago. That property was beautiful when we
moved in. There was nothing negative by that house. The
woods behind the house were clear, I'm sure of it.
By the time everyone moved out to place is just

(09:49):
a mess, both physically and energy wise. It always seemed
so dark now, even if he had all the lights on.
It didn't used to be that way. I remember gorgeous
sunny days playing with the kids when they were little.
Those sunny days completely disappeared over the years. Even when
the weather was gorgeous, the house was dark, the woods
became creepy and scary. When I first moved in there,

(10:12):
I would see wood creatures all the time, ground hogs
and squirrels and deer and bearers and all the things
you'd expect to see in the woods. Now it's over
one with feral cats. There's nothing about that property that
is the same from when we first bought it. A
lot of awful things happened in the house directly across
the road as well, but honestly, I couldn't say my
excess negative energy was responsible, or if they had something

(10:36):
over there, or maybe it joined forces with each other.
Who knows. The family dealt with their oldest kid being
a perfect future serial killer material. He threatened to kill
my kids, and he killed a cat in front of
them to drive home his point. Both parents had cancer
and other really awful health issues. The father a stroke
at only fifty five years of age. He was always

(10:58):
active and in very good fits shape, so it's bizarre
that this happened to him, turning him into a vegetable
that would never get out of bed again and couldn't speak,
and had been the target of a terrible abuse by
the oldest kid. The older boy also threatened his brother
that he was going to kill him, to the point
he had to get a restraining order and the older
one was kicked out of the house. The mother had

(11:20):
forced suicide attempts that I know of, all unsuccessful. Then
one day she just died, like out of the blue,
had a heart attack through no effort of her own.
Really really bad stuff there, But being a skeptic, I
often just wonder maybe it was just two families who
lived across the road from each other that had terrible luck,

(11:41):
or maybe bad jeans or something. Who knows. It's just
an awful lot of coincidence to justify it as bad luck.
There's way more that happened, but it just would take
too long to talk about it. Maybe one day I
should write a book. Next story. I was home from
college in the summer of two thousand one. Since nineteen

(12:04):
ninety four, me, my mom, and two of my sisters
had lived in an old mobile home out in the
middle of nowhere in South Georgia. The woods were near by,
and my bedroom was at the end of the trailer
and the window faced out into the woods. I always
felt the heaviness in that trailer. One night, I was
suddenly awakened and looked down at the foot of the bed,
where I saw a black faced demon. It was not

(12:25):
a cartoon devil. It was like his face was burned.
He communicated without speaking, but I heard him in my head.
He asked me to join him and told me that
if I didn't, then innocent people would suffer. I saw
images in my head of people I didn't know being
hacked to pieces with a machete, but in my mind,
I somehow knew it was a trick, and I said no.

(12:46):
I drifted back to sleep and woke up in the morning,
vividly remembering the demon's face, but telling myself it wasn't real.
I worked two jobs during the summer. Not about three
weeks later, I was robbed at gunpoint when I was
at the manager closing the fast food restaurant. I was
incredibly shaken from the event and having a gun put
to my head. One of my younger sisters was there

(13:07):
to comfort me and help me through the trauma. Her
eighteenth birthday was August third. On August fourth, she drank
toxic cleaners in her bedroom and went into a coma.
I found her when I returned home and called nine
one one. She was on life support for a few
days before we took her off because she was brain dead.
It wasn't until much later that I wondered if this

(13:28):
was just what the demon had warned me about. I
also wondered the demon convinced her to do it. I
felt guilty for years and still do from time to time.
After my sister died, I had to go back to college.
I graduated and moved away for good and only returned
on holidays to visit. My mom. Understandably went into a
deep depression. She died this past April, and my other sister,

(13:51):
who still lives in the trailer, believes her spirit is there.
I haven't stepped foot in that mobile home since my
sister died in two thousand and one because of the
negative energy in there. Long story short, I one hundred
percent believe that I saw a demon. Next story. When

(14:13):
I was eight years old, I was with my mother
at a grocery store. I looked up and saw something
and still don't know what it is. The creature was
my height or a little bit shorter, white brown, rough skin,
and the head was more than one quarter of the body,
A very broad figure, a bit human looking, but definitely
not a human. It was dressed in human winter clothes

(14:35):
and bluish colors. The face was huge, with a very
big mouth downturn in a sort of grumpy expression. I
didn't know what I saw, so I looked up five
times to see and what I saw was real. I
remember that because I was so afraid of the number
five for a long time after same with a color blue,
because the creature was wearing clothes and different shades of blue.

(14:57):
My mother didn't seem to notice anything unusual. I got
a bit annoyed with me because I suddenly started behaving weird.
She was tired and a bit stressed and just wanted
to get home. I didn't say anything to her because
I usually kept my problems to myself. I've been looking
up many times to figure out what I actually saw,
but without any result. I've never seen anything strange after that,

(15:21):
and I'm wondering still exactly what it is I saw
that day at the grocery store. Next story. It happened
when I was about nine or ten years old. I
was happy, had friends, and everything was normal. I never
had a bad relationship with anyone, or had anything negative
happened to me. I was just a person who enjoyed
life and lived through it. I'd never experienced any kind

(15:44):
of abuse either, but that night changed my life. MY
mother took me to bed and read me some stories
about fairy tales. My room was very childish. I had
pink furniture and cuddly toys everywhere. However, a corner my
room was empty, so there was nothing to stand there,
as my parents wanted to buy me guinea pigs and
therefore had made some space for it in my room.

(16:07):
When my mother was done reading the story to me,
she turned off the lights and went to sleep herself.
She always left the door opened and never locked, so
that I had light in the room. I didn't have
a night light because my parents were very frugal. After
a few minutes, I fell asleep, and also, like all
the other times, I had a peaceful dream until I

(16:29):
heard it, I be breathing from the empty corner of
my room. It literally ripped me out of my sleep,
and you certainly can imagine the frightening gaze I had.
I was turning my back to that corner. I don't
know how to explain it, but I think you already
understand what I mean. I thought maybe these were my
parents or my brother that he had to go to

(16:52):
the toilet, or maybe you wanted to play a prank
on me. I tried to fall asleep again and started
sweating so scared, and maybe a few more minutes or
hours passed and the breathing just didn't stop. So I
finally dared to look into the corner, which was the
biggest mistake of my life. That moment, I became pale,

(17:13):
got goose bumps, and then I tore my eyes painfully open.
Everything went really bad at that moment. I saw an
older version of me standing in the corner with long, curly,
dark brown hair. She wore a long dress that was
partially thrown and dirty. She had no legs and theoretically

(17:34):
flew across the floor. She was pale, and you could
see the notching of the veins already out of the skin.
The body was also completely overwhelmed with scars. As a
dress was somewhat transparent, she was completely emaciated. But the
worst was a face. This thing had scars on its

(17:55):
face everywhere. It smiled at me with yellow and muddled teeth,
Her eyes were ripped open and glowing yellow, and her
pupils were deep black and large. This thing stood just
in the corner and looked at me with those yellow eyes.
She literally looked like an older version of me as

(18:15):
a corpse. That moment, without choking, I thought I was
going to dine and said goodbye to my family and
my thoughts. This thing then suddenly came closer and closer
without moving, and the face still looked the same. It
was like a statue slowly coming to my bedside. I
was paralyzed, but then I realized this thing was getting closer.

(18:39):
I took my duvet and quickly hit under it. The
bad thing was that my duet was also somewhat see through,
and very thing. I could still eagerly recognize everything in
my room through the corner, and the same gohoest for
this monster. It was already next to my bed, bending down,
coming to me slowly, and I thought it wants to

(19:00):
take my soul with those disturbing yellow eyes. Maary four
had my heart throbbed so loudly, and never had I
started shaking so brutally. I started crying, and however, tried
to be quiet and pretended to be asleep. The crying
literally hurt. I wanted to turn my back to this monster,

(19:21):
not to look at it. I want to avoid any
movement so it wouldn't draw attention to me. Minutes, maybe
hours passed, but it felt like years. It felt so
long that this thing stared at me. I thought that
when it gets bright, that this thing would finally disappear,
and I prayed to God and thanked them that this

(19:41):
monster couldn't do anything to me physically. But that came
the shock of my life when this monster slowly raised
this dirty, scarred hand over me and slowly took the duvey.
I could really see those moldy fingers. It wanted to
rip the day off me and I from that moment,
but suddenly I couldn't do anymore. I have never felt

(20:05):
such fear. I was also damn lucky that this thing
was so incredibly slow, because I'm probably my survival instinct
came along and I was screaming incredibly loud for my
mum and for my dad. They came running straight away,
and it literally felt like either a rescue. This thing

(20:25):
disappeared into the ground, and just before my parents came
into the room, I've never been so happy to be
with my parents, yet after this incident, I've only had
misfortune and feel persecuted as well as being watched. I
haven't been able to sleep properly since that event. Often
gets sick and I've been depressed since then. I have
no friends left and I'm literally lost. Yet the bad

(20:47):
thing is that I haven't been able to see in
the mirror since I'm afraid of being murdered. Was that
of future me, which is why I don't go out
of the house only if I have to work, and
I can still see that face in front of my
bed in the dark. I still have to live in
this room, unfortunately, and I still get nightmares about it.

(21:12):
Next story, November thirteenth, twenty eleven, is when my mom
went crazy. My parents were married for twenty one years.
My mom I had always had her demons, but for
a long time she at least tried. Sometime in two
thousand and six or two thousand and seven, after I
went off to college, she went off her meds for
depression for the forty fifth thousand times. This time was different,

(21:36):
though I didn't realize what mania looked like at the time.
I was only eighteen, but years later I realized she
had an adult onset of bipolar disorder. It was unnerving.
It was the last straw for my dad, and he left.
The divorce was finalized in two thousand and eight. My
mom was never the same. The combination of borderline personality
disorder and bipolar disorder both diagnosed, meant why her go

(22:01):
up and down on a haunting roller coaster of destruction?
Meant watching the small part of her that was a
mother fade away. My dad left the house the one
way I had lived in all my life. It's a
beautiful home, cozy and on the corner there's a big
bay window and natural light. It always felt like home
until the divorce. I hated being in the house. After

(22:22):
my dad left, her behavior became more erratic, and the
loews became so much lower, and the house began to change.
It was dark and stale, and you couldn't wait to leave.
I've always chalked it up to my perception as a
young adult, whether any wars and my mom's downward spiral,
but now I don't know. It got worse and worse
over time, and then I got the phone call on

(22:45):
November thirteen, twenty eleven, I was living in another city.
The call was from my father telling me a neighbor
noticed he hadn't seen my dog in the bay window
for several days, and he said to use the spare
key my mother had given him. The dog was found
that in the bathroom and my mother in bed, weak
and frail. She had laid in bed for so long

(23:05):
her leg muscles had a trophy the dog. I've never
been able to get answers on, but my sister once
let it slip that there was blood. The cleaners my
aunt hired to clean the house found my cat three
days into the job, crushed to death between the ottoman
and chair in the back room. She spent the next
few years in a catatonic state, first the mental hospital,

(23:25):
and then she was transferred to a nursing home. The meantime,
I was the one to clean up the house. She
was a choppaholic order and mental illness had only amplified it.
The first time I came back home, I felt dark
and stale, but it was empty. It didn't have the
panic pressure that I had felt with my mother there.
I sort of felt better, and then I went through

(23:48):
and I cleaned everything I kept sorting and cleaning. The
more I did this, the lighter and brighter became, until
it felt like home again. Not really, but kind of.
Was a little bit of staleness there, but I attributed him,
perhaps still due to my subconscious awareness of what had
happened there. One thing I noticed about the house was
that the lightness could become dark in the blink of

(24:10):
an eye, and everything was gradual, if that makes sense.
You never noticed things until you were consumed by the
stale of darkness. It was like a cloak coming over
the place in one steady sweet It was odd, but
how can you explain it? At a boyfriend or relationship
wasn't exactly healthy to begin with, But I will say
that he noticed the same thing I did with the house.

(24:32):
There were three specific incidents with that house. The first
one happened when one day it was me, him and
one of his friends sitting in the middle room when
we heard the distinct sound of the front door opening.
They went to go check and it was closed with
no sign of being open. The thing about the door
is that as it was old, like to rest the house,

(24:52):
the door had become difficult to open and close. In
order to open it. You had to put your shoulder
into it, but in order to close you had to
thrust your body weight against it several times before it
would shut. We heard it open, but we never heard
it shut. This was impossible. Three people heard the exact
same thing. The second incident was when my ex and

(25:16):
I were sitting in the middle room once again. We
were in our office chairs at our desks, talking about
something when we distinctly heard several creeks overhead and a
sudden smash directly and I mean directly over my head
in the attic. It was as if someone took several
steps until they were overhead and had either a plate

(25:37):
or a glass bong that very specific glass shattering sound,
and through it with great force. The sound was so
incredibly clear my ex and I locked eyes with each
other and he whispered, there's someone in the attic. I
was gone. I bolted out to the garage and backed
my car out and parked in the driveway. My ex

(25:57):
came out to meet me and convinced me to stay
where I was in a car as he called his
best friend, the same one who heard the front door
open and not open, and asked him to come with
him gun so they could search the attic. His best
friend arrived in less than two minutes with his weapon.
They both went inside the house and searched the place
from top to bottom. As I sat in the driveway.

(26:17):
The way this home was set up. It was in
a corner lot. The side gate face the street, and
there was a bay window that wrapped around the house
and stretched almost to the front door. We still had
the blinds pulled up. This meant that from my vantage point,
I could see inside half the house and anyone exited
through the only two exits in the home, the front

(26:38):
door and the side gate. I could even see the
back fence. From where I was, I would see them.
I could even see the roof. It was not a
large home. I would be able to see if anyone
was making an escape. As I waited for the boys
to return, I have expected to see a homeless man
scramble out of the house. It was the only thing
that could explain the sound of something being thrown right

(27:01):
above my head. The boys completed the search of the home,
nothing and no one was to be found. I asked
her they had checked the attic thoroughly. They said, I
believe them. The thing about the attic of that house
is that it wasn't a true attic. The rafters were
set up in such a way that a person could
not walk around freely up there. If they did, they

(27:23):
would fall through the ceiling. There was a light switch
up there, and the boys had examined every square into
the attic. There was no sign of life to be found,
no glass, nothing. It would be easy to write it
off as a strange sound the old house had made,
if it wasn't for one thing. My boyfriend was insistent
on the footsteps he had heard leading up to the crash.

(27:45):
He was adamant he had heard the footsteps above him
as they walked to the spot right above me. He
had heard the wood slightly creak, as if someone had
lifted its arm up to throw something with force. I
were hearing as I missed out a lot of sounds,
but I had heard creakings before the smash, and I

(28:06):
knew by then when my boyfriend was being sincere. I
believed him even to this day as to him hearing
those footsteps. Then came the third incident. We were in
the house for two or three years. I split my
time between there and down Southfolk College, my boyfriend stayed
behind the house. He had mentioned that there were times
he just knew he was alone, but no other specific

(28:27):
incidents took place. The house began to get darker, our
fights grew worse and more violent. Something happened to my mind.
It all happened gradually until it was horrible, a point
of no return, this day of depression. I felt, there's
like nothing I've ever experienced before. It changed me. After
one particularly savage fight, I went for a drive and

(28:49):
came back. I was alone. He was not there. I
entered through the back do and was greeted by a
wall of darkness. It was stale, cold, dark, Even though
all the lights were on, it could barely breathe. I snapped.
I yelled at the darkness in the kitchen for no
particular reason. Get the f out go away, I see
you go. I'm sick of you. It retreated, I swear

(29:14):
to you, on my son, I visibly saw the darkness
shift backwards. I screamed at it some more, and it
retreated some more. It was light again. The house was
light and beautiful again. My memory stops there in the kitchen,
screaming at the darkness. Then I wake up in my bed,
fully clothed on top of the sheets. The house was
dark again. The staleness is there again, but when I

(29:37):
walk into the kitchen, it is light and bright. Oddly enough,
that was the first time I considered the possibility that
there might be something more to the house, that there
might be something otherworldly there, but what Not Too long
after the incident in the kitchen, I left the house
and it was put up for sale. I've been through
many tough and trying time since then, but I have

(29:58):
never ever experienced a darkness, the sluggishness, the staleness, the pressure,
the panic, the hopelessness, the bleakness, and the agony of
that home. Since then, My gut tells me that there's
something there. My rationalism is willing to concede that it
could all be subconsciously rooted in the pain associated with

(30:18):
the home's history. But I feel that there truly is,
or was, something dark and dangerous within the home. And
I only wonder if it was there when my mother
moved in with my father, or she created it with
her downward spiral. I had a recurring dream all in
that house would walk into the middle room and see
something that resembled a cross between the creature from Alien

(30:42):
and Predator, and it would lock eyes with me, and
I would hear in my mind Widow's Sullivan and the
dream would end. There is no one in my family
named Sullivan, and I'm sure if it's connected, probably not,
But I never had that dream again after leaving the home.

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Stories of Strange Creatures | Volume 3 | Podcast E356

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}Stories of Strange Creatures | Volume 3 | Podcast E356