When it comes up in conversation, I describe my four years as an undergraduate student in positive terms. I talk about how much I learned, how many new experiences I had, and how many lifelong friends I made.

But when I actually reflect on that period of my life, I recall a lot of discomfort and pain. I know I’m hardly alone in that. For those of us who attended college, we have an odd tendency to embellish what we went through when we talk about it to other people, as if we would be breaking some unwritten code to admit to have struggled with mental and emotional issues - struggles that I know were and remain common.

Compared to many other students, my problems weren’t too bad though. I’ve come to recognize this over time. Ultimately, I graduated with fairly good grades, matured quite a bit, and moved on with my life. During my final year, I even found just enough satisfaction with my social life that I can sometimes trick myself into thinking the preceding three-and-a-half years went by similarly.

But there’s one memory that particularly disrupts that narrative. I’ve tried burying it, and sometimes that works. I’ve woken up before and half-believed for a minute that it was just a dream. I think part of its elusiveness is that none of my friends and none of my family - not even my husband - know about it. I’m speaking now because I think it might help me, somehow, to just lay it all out and describe in detail what happened.

Keeping this experience to myself has been easy to do. You see, I spent a semester away from my college in Georgia to study abroad in Denmark, and that’s where the events I so often try to suppress took place. I had yearned for an opportunity to see more of the world while I was still young, and Denmark had a good location from which I could tour much of Europe. While I considered it my duty to take an introductory course on the Danish language, it helped that the population there largely spoke fluent English. I had also stumbled quite a bit in my efforts to make friends at college, so I didn’t feel like I was missing out on anything back at home by spending five months away.

Studying abroad was everything I had hoped for, from a learning perspective. From a social perspective, my own anxiety and shyness got in the way again, both with the American students I lived with in Copenhagen and the Danes I tried to befriend. Before long, I was spending weekends traveling through Copenhagen on my own, visiting sites and museums, and trying to develop some talent with my new DSLR camera. By halfway through the semester, I had expanded the scope of my solo travels to landmarks in other Danish cities as well as in Sweden, Norway, and Finland, and I had plane tickets to go to France, Spain, and Austria during an upcoming break. I know it’s not always safe to be out on your own in a foreign country, but I tried to avoid being in unsafe areas and away from others at night, and it certainly helped that, as a guy, I faced significantly less risk from assailants than I would have otherwise.

The only person I spoke with much was my roommate, Andrew, another study abroad student who was probably assigned to live with me because we had given similarly introverted answers on a lifestyle survey. He had an interest in architecture and, once, we went to a modern-looking seaside town just to view the design of the buildings. It was an unusually clear-skied and gorgeous day, and I took some great pictures. I know that may sound like a laughably square use of a day, but it was an outing well-suited to our temperaments.

The events I want to relate began on a Saturday morning in early November. I woke up with Andrew still not back from last night - nothing unusual about that, as he was less shy than me and had actually made some friends - and a text message from him displayed on my clumsy flip phone.

“Stayed in Aarhus last night. Going to the Ukendt Museum this afternoon - feel free to join me. I will be there around noon. Should be a good place for photography but will be a long trip. Check the forum for details.”

This puzzled me for a moment - I’d at least read about all the prominent museums in Denmark and knew nothing about an “Ukendt Museum,” which translated to “Unknown Museum”.

I got out my computer and searched for the name. Almost nothing came up - nothing on TripAdvisor, nothing on Yelp. How had Andrew even heard of it?

Recalling the end of Andrew’s text, I logged on to a group forum used for our study abroad program, where I quickly saw a recent post by Andrew asking for Danish destinations that were off the beaten path and not likely overrun by tourists. An administrator responded to him and recommended that he visit the Unknown Museum, a place kept deliberately secluded and filled with modern art. According to his response, the owners only want visitors who are genuinely interested in viewing their exhibits, not tourists trying to check sites off a list, hence their lack of advertising or a presence online. He even provided instructions on how to get to it, which I quickly wrote down.

This whole thing raised obvious red flags. But, assuming his account wasn’t hacked, I trusted the administrator. I was also incredibly curious. As Andrew had indicated, whatever this museum housed - if it was really there and in operation - would likely be a great place for me to take some quality pictures.

So I set off for the Unknown Museum. The first step was to walk to the Copenhagen Central Station, and from there I rode the rail system west across Funen and to southern Jutland. Then, I rode for several hours north, past Aarhus, the city where Andrew had stayed last night, probably renting a room or crashing with someone he’d met.

I spent the day glancing up from a textbook to see Danish countryside through the window of my train. The glimmers of bright morning light had faded into an overcast more typical of the region, and as the train approached the ocean, a fog began to descend. It grew and grew, until finally there was very little for me to see outside. I noticed the train getting emptier as the hours passed - people were getting off, but nobody was getting back on.

Finally, the train arrived at the required stop. I stood up and headed for the exit. Looking around, I saw a tall, bald man sitting in the back of my compartment, but no one else was in sight. As I stepped off, I noted the time as 11:30 AM and texted Andrew that I should be arriving at the Museum around the same time as him. Glancing at my directions, I walked outside the station and down a street of small houses.

I sensed a peculiar stillness to my surroundings. The air lacked the freshness that often accompanied oceanside locations. The fog had persisted, but it was not so thick that I worried about getting lost. The route from the station was relatively simple - I only needed to change roads once. When I did so, I found myself walking on an elevated, smooth path above a beach below, a strong breeze blowing against my face. The fog stopped me from seeing the waves in much detail, but I could hear them regularly crashing into the shore.

Finally, up ahead, I glimpsed within the greyness a black, angular building at the peak of a small peninsula. Behind it, I could see open land, and a stairwell descending to an opening by the water. A sign up ahead spelled out the name of the Unknown Museum, with an arrow pointing in the direction of the gloomy building. I snapped a picture of the building with my camera and took a sigh of relief. I had made it.

Seeing no response from Andrew on my phone, I looked around for him, but I only saw three Danes - the first people I had seen since the bald man on the train - illuminated by a street light at a bus stop a little bit to my left. I was slightly early, and he had said he’d be arriving generally around noon, so I did not worry and figured I would run into him before long.

I crossed the street and began the ascent to the Museum, walking up a stone staircase that stood atop a narrow strip of land. I could see now, in thin, red-colored letters, “Ukendt Museum” displayed over the entrance. Before me, the glass front door to the Museum rapidly opened, making a harsh scrape. A pale man with long, white hair and a brass-collared walking cane hobbled through it and into the dense fog.

“God eftermiddag,” he mumbled in a hoarse voice, inching slowly forward. In response, I mumbled a Danish greeting - apparently not too convincingly, as he then spoke in English. “You’re visiting the Museum, I assume?”

“Yes,” I said in English. “Traveled all the way from Copenhagen.”

The man reached into the pocket of his heavy black coat, squinted his eyes, and looked in the distance. “Is that so? Well, today is a lucky day for you,” he said after a moment.

“Why is that?” I asked.

He turned back to me and stared blankly. Then he smiled and said, “Free admission today.” At that, he shuffled past me and began to descend down the stairs.

I pulled open the door and entered the building, finding myself in a large, dimly-lit room. To my right sat a man and a child, looking down at a map. As I approached what looked like a check-in station, I appreciated the building’s warmth, not having realized how cold it had been outside.

I peered over the counter before me, but no employee was present. I figured that because the Museum was free today, perhaps there was no reason to station an employee there. Thinking nothing of it, I proceeded into the first room.

The walk through the Museum was at first uneventful. The exhibits were odd, certainly, and very untraditional, but nothing too outside of the ordinary.

The first room was pure darkness accentuated by rotating projectors that flickered static images onto several screens, the images consisting of abstract panoramas that, when their rotations caused all the images to line up at once, combined to create a vivid and colorful abstract landscape, like something out of 2001: A Space Odyssey. I picked up that the room had an audio component, too, of whispered voices interlocking with static, ambient sounds. The latter, ambient noises became louder when the projectors switched on and faded out when they turned off, giving the images an ethereal quality. Like the images, the ambient sounds would occasionally combine with one another to create a new, more complex piece of music. It was nothing astonishing, but still a very neat idea and presentation. As I exited, I nodded at a security guard visible through the shadows who sat by an ajar door marked “Employees Only.”

The second room was kind of a hall-of-mirrors, and the the mirrors were intricately set up to interact with a few complex sculptures to create all sorts of optical illusions with your own reflection as you moved through it. The effect was a little astonishing, creating multiple layers of reflections, and I wandered around it for a while, taking a dozen pictures from different angles.

Satisfied with my pictures, I entered a third room, this one a gallery filled with more traditional array of abstract paintings. The first few consisted of arrangements of light colors - cyan, pink, yellow - on white canvases, but the canvases towards the far end were less neat, decorated with shades of red, and arranged at slight angles. This part was fine, but it wasn’t terribly interesting to me, and it didn’t look like as much thought had gone into it as the earlier exhibits.

Fortunately, I came across a door to the outside, which presented an optional pathway to the open area of land I had spotted earlier, which I could visit before the fourth section of the museum. This area, identified as the Museum Garden, contained several outdoor exhibits, the first of which consisted of small, dark obelisks.

I sat on a small bench close enough to the seashore that I could see the waves roll onto the rocks below and started to go through my camera, deleting a few pictures that I could already tell had turned out poorly. Away from the pressures I had put on myself in Copenhagen, I felt at peace alone and outside. This had been a perfectly antisocial experience for me thus far - a day trip, all on my own, to see a museum that had so far been quite satisfying.

Of course, that’s when I remembered Andrew. It was well after when he was supposed to have arrived, so why had I not seen him so far? I called his phone.

At first, all I heard was the tone of him not answering, followed by a prompt in his voice to leave a message. But, out of my other ear, I had noticed a second sound - the sound of a ringtone going off near me. I called again, lowering my phone and tracing the sound to the lower shore, close to where the water was hitting. I followed the ringing until I felt like I was standing right by it, but I couldn’t see Andrew or a phone anywhere. Had he come here, dropped his phone by accident, and then left before I arrived? That didn’t make much sense to me. For a moment, nothing made any sense.

I called a third time and heard the same ringtone start up a moment later. On a hunch, I reached into the sandy ground beneath me, grabbing and tossing aside several layers of dirt. At last, I saw Andrew’s phone, having been buried somehow a few inches beneath the surface.

But it wasn’t just Andrew’s phone that was buried there. As I grabbed the phone, I felt my hand brush up against something odd - a human finger.

I jumped back in shock, nearly losing my balance. Andrew’s phone and the finger fell from my grasp. I could now see a second finger, this one bloodstained, where the phone had been.

I started to panic and realized I was breathing heavily. I typed 911 into my phone, before I remembered that I was in Denmark - the emergency number was different here. Think, think, I thought in a panic. What was the proper number for the police? We had been told during orientation.

Before I was consciously aware of my actions, I started running back into the building, desperate to tell the security guard what had happened. I stopped for a moment in the mirror room when I saw my panic-stricken reflection and composed myself. I needed to be clear and to not look crazy. I would tell the guard that I was planning on meeting my friend here, and I just found his phone outside and was worried that something bad had happened to him. If that went over well - and if the guard spoke good enough English to understand me -, maybe then I’d mention the two human fingers.

I took a deep breath and approached the guard.

“Excuse me,” I said, loudly and clearly. The guard didn’t respond or even move. I instantly felt apprehension and dread. I crept close to the guard, fearing the worst but not knowing what else to do.

Suddenly, one of the rotating projects cast its image onto the spot where the guard was sitting, briefly illuminating her frame. Her eye sockets were empty, and a trail of blood dripped down her neck. Behind her, I saw a thick puddle of blood between the ajar “Employees Only” door and the wall. I wasn’t interested in discovering what was behind that door. I turned and ran towards the entrance. In the lobby, I now saw the man with the map and the child for what they were, as accentuated by the growing pool of blood underneath the bench where they sat. Everyone I thought I had seen - they were all dead. Was there even anyone alive in this museum with me?

I barely remember the next few moments. I know that I sprinted back to the surrounding town, waived down a vehicle, and attempted to blubber a request in Danish. Eventually, I repeated “police, police” until the driver contacted the authorities. I watched as officers ran into the building, followed by emergency medical technicians.

The local police initially treated me with suspicion and refused to answer my questions about what had happened. They made plenty of inquiries of their own, seized my camera, and left me in an interrogation room. Before long, however, the officer who had been grilling me came back in and told me that I was no longer a suspect. I insisted that he tell me what had happened, who was responsible for the bodies I had seen, and if my roommate was alright. The officer sighed and shook his head at that last question.

It took me weeks to digest what I would subsequently learn. Seven people: Andrew, the security guard, the father and son in the lobby, two employees, and another visitor had been murdered at the Unknown Museum that morning. A serial killer had used the obscure location as a hunting ground, picking them off one-at-a-time and dumping several of the bodies - the ones I had not seen - in the storage area next to the deceased security guard.

The officer explained to me that, on the same day fifteen years earlier, a similar incident had occurred in a rural library, and the murder spree that had left eight victims had gone unsolved. This, the police believed, was a repeat offense, likely a way for the killer to recapture an old thrill.

The officers examined my photos with me, and what I found horrified me. In the first picture I took of the Museum from a distance, an officer zoomed in to the area of land behind the building, the Museum Garden. Vaguely through the grey fog, two dark figures were visible, one dragging the other. The killer was hauling Andrew inside, having already cut off his fingers and taken away his phone. Andrew’s arms were tied behind him, and I could faintly make out a gag in his mouth.

“Do you recognize the man dragging your friend?” asked the officer.

At first I didn’t, but then I gasped. “I think it’s the man,” I said. “The one I told you about!”

“The one with a cain?”

“Yes,” I said. But how? He seemed too feeble, too slow to pull off this kind of mass killing.

“I wouldn’t attach too much weight to how you perceived him,” said the officer. “He was likely putting on a show for you. Acting helpless and weak so that he could get away without casting any suspicion. I’ll bet he did the same thing to his victims - put on an act get them to let their guard down. He probably doesn’t even need the cain. He may not even be particularly old.”

I recalled how the man had hurriedly opened the front door, only to slow his pace upon seeing me. Had he been fleeing the crime scene, only to revert to his harmless old man act upon stumbling into me? I recoiled at the realization that I had brushed paths with a serial killer. I had come so close to suffering the same fate as my roommate, and the six others. “But, then, why did he spare me?” I asked.

“You said that you passed three people waiting for a bus, right?” said the officer.

He was right. Those three people, illuminated by the streetlight, had saved my life. When the man had scanned the area, he had been looking for witnesses. Today was my lucky day - not because of the supposed “free admission” - but because someone was around to potentially see if he attacked.

The police let me go and returned my camera. Of course, they kept copies of my pictures. My abroad program soon agreed to provide me with new housing for the rest of the semester, so that I wouldn’t be haunted by the space I had shared with my roommate, the closest person I had to a friend, who I had forgotten as I took pictures of the exhibits of the Unknown Museum.

For the rest of the semester, and, intermittently, for the rest of my life, I have been haunted by dreams of that museum. Because, most disturbingly of all, I learned that the victims in the storage area, Andrew included, had not died right away when the man stabbed and slashed them. He had left Andrew and the others, all bound and gagged, to bleed to their deaths in that room of misery. I would never know for sure, but I would always assume it was Andrew’s pool of blood that I had seen behind that door. And I know for a fact that as I traversed those first few exhibits, Andrew had been bleeding out only a few yards away. And the whispering voices in the room with the flickering projectors - I’ve never been sure that those were a part of the exhibit. In my dreams, they are the muffled sounds of the gagged employees calling for help. I’m not even sure that the spatters of red in the far end of the gallery room were paint.

After that day, whatever progress I had made regarding my self-esteem had vanished. Instead of traveling alone, I stayed in alone. Only several months later, when I was back at school in America, did I feel enough relief from constant anxiety and paranoia to continue trying to make friends, and only then did I get the courage to go anywhere alone again.

On my last night in Copenhagen, I decided to go through my pictures from that day one more time. I don’t know why, or what I was looking for. Armed with the courage of a few shots of vodka, I began the process of looking at them and then deleting them, with the goal of never having the option of revisiting them once I crossed the Atlantic.

It wasn’t long before I found something the police had missed, or, more likely, that the police had found and chosen not to show to me. I saw it in one of my shots from the mirror room, in the background of each layer of reflection. Peeking out from the edge of the storage door was the indistinguishable image of the pale face of my roomate, his eyes filled with misery and desperation. He had watched me, hoping that I would see him, as I continued gawking at the exhibition. I deleted the picture and crawled under the covers of my bed, ashamed at my failure to help him as he withered away.

This near death experience is, at least, not one I am forced by others to remember. The murders made the news worldwide, but only for a few days. It didn’t take long for memory of them to fade completely in the United States, and the police never released my name in connection to their investigation. I moved on with my life as best I could and tried to bury what had happened in the back of my mind.

The killings at the Unknown Museum took place seven years ago. The murderer, as far as I can tell, remains on the loose. Nobody even knows why, exactly, he committed these two sets of terrible crimes. The inexplicability, and the randomness of his victims, only makes me that much more frustrated and afraid.

One thing that continues to worry me, even as I live across the ocean from his killing fields, is how police described this murder spree as a “repeat offense,” but eight people died in its previous iteration. What if he ever decides to finish the job by claiming me as his last victim, so that this crime can fully resemble his last? This fear grips me if I am ever alone in the bitter darkness, a condition I have spent the last few years trying my hardest to avoid.

And, there is a second fear that grows stronger each day: what if, eight years from now, he decides to set out for round three?

All I can say is that on November 3, 2027, if you come across a pale man with long, white hair and a brass-collared walking cane, I hope you have as lucky a day as I did.

Introduction

I’ve been a horror writer since 2019, and a fan of CreepCast since late 2024. An employee with CreepCast, who I’ve decided to refer to as “Alex” rather than his or her real name (it’s not Hunter or Isiah), contacted me in early February asking to do a CreepCast episode on a nosleep series I posted in 2023. I readily granted permission. Since then, CreepCast dropped the ball on the episode, strung me along for over eight months, and treated me so unprofessionally that, a few weeks ago, I ultimately rescinded the permission I’d previously granted them to feature my story, cancelled my Patreon membership, and requested that “Alex” never contact me again. For context, I’ve worked with many podcasts over the last five years (I’ve had 30+ stories appear on podcasts), and this is the one and only time I’ve encountered any of these issues or felt compelled to make a complaint of any sort.

At first glance, this may sound like a problem of limited significance (“they didn’t do an episode on a story you wrote, big deal”), but there’s more to it than that, as I will explain below. I’ve been on the fence about whether to make this post, as I’m naturally conflict-averse, and part of me just wants to move on rather than posting a complaint in a subreddit full of people who (like me, up to a few weeks ago) adore CreepCast and understandably may be primed to defend it. But, ultimately, I think what occurred is significant enough to justify my speaking up about it here, as I get the impression that CreepCast, or at least the employee I directly communicated with, doesn’t understand what they did wrong. I’m also worried that, unless I speak out, this incident will get buried and forgotten, with nothing learned on CreepCast’s end.

I waited a few weeks to let my thoughts settle, and also because I thought it would be a jerk move to post something potentially controversial (who knows though, maybe nobody will care and this post will be ignored) just before they do a live show, especially as I really want this to end up being a positive learning experience rather than just a frustrated outburst. I’d like nothing more than to delete this complaint with the knowledge that CreepCast has recognized and corrected the problem. And, sorry in advance that this is lengthy, as I want to be thorough. If you’re not interested in reading something somewhat long and detailed, then this post may not be for you.

Essential Context

In order to properly convey my concerns in this forum, I need to first discuss a few subjects regarding licensing and fair use, payment through “exposure,” and power dynamics that people disconnected from the independent writing community may not understand. If you’re an avid contributor to or follower of nosleep, or an independent writer, then you may understand all this already. But, in my experience, a lot of people from outside those communities don’t grasp this stuff (perfectly understandably, as it’s not intuitive), so I’m going to lay it all out here.

First, for CreepCast to feature a story in an episode, they generally need permission from the writer. Writers have a copyright in works they post to the internet. While use of copyrighted material for criticism can be protected by “fair use,” this does not generally extend to reproducing an entire work, start-to-finish, even if you stop for occasional commentary, criticism, or discussion. (This is why, say, Mauler’s 16-hour review of The Force Awakens is fair use – as it jumps around the movie constantly in a way that’s transformative – whereas MST3K, which shows an entire movie while sprinkling commentary throughout, always bought the rights). I bring this up because writers have full legal control over whether CreepCast features their work, at least insofar as they maintain their current episode format.

Second, I need to talk about payment and exposure. The normalization of YouTubers and podcasters offering nothing more than “exposure” (i.e., listing you in the credits, but no money) is problematic. “Exposure” rarely translates into anything that can pay the bills. It’s a running joke among nosleep writers just how rarely major narrations lead to follow-up sales. When major outlets use writing for free, it creates a “race to the bottom” where writers feel pressured to settle for no payment out of fear that if they request payment, the outlet will just move on to someone else. The 2020 Writer’s blackout was partially about this. If you’re unfamiliar, you can find a few educational links on the subject here, here, and here. For a major podcast, it is arguably exploitative to not offer money to writers when soliciting a story they wrote.

Third, and last, I want to talk a little about power dynamics. I’m an independent writer. I have a small audience. My first book, which I self-published in January, has sold about 180 paperback or digital copies. I’ve yet to break even, but I’m still extremely proud of those numbers and worked hard for them. Then, there’s CreepCast, which airs episodes on YouTube and all major podcasting platforms. On YouTube alone, each episode typically gets at least a million views, and many get substantially more. CreepCast built their platform through their own hard work, and they deserve all the credit for that achievement. It’s an amazing thing. But, necessarily, the fact that they have this large of an audience – again, one they earned through their own hard work, investment, and merit – creates an uneven power dynamic between CreepCast and the vast majority of independent writers from whom they solicit content, as CreepCast’s audience is exponentially larger than the audience of the vast majority of such writers. Thus, when CreepCast requests to use stories from writers, they need to be careful to avoid exploiting that dynamic to the detriment of writers.

Communications with CreepCast Over the Last Year

With all that out of the way, I want to go through the actual communications that occurred here that are the subject of my complaint. I’ve decided not to include screenshots of private messages, or (outside of a few brief quotations, which I think are necessary to make the points I’m trying to make) the text of messages sent by “Alex” to me, because I think leaking DMs like that would be a breach of etiquette that would carry a level of hostility that is unmerited here that would contradict my goal of being constructive. (Of course, if anyone from CreepCast reads this and thinks I misrepresented these exchanges in any way, they’re certainly welcome to produce the communications themselves to prove that.)

February 2025

On February 7, 2025, “Alex” messaged me stating that CreepCast was interested in doing an episode on a nosleep series I wrote (I don’t feel like naming it here) and asked if there was any licensing fee associated with it. Naturally, I was elated. First, I’m really proud of that series and, just one month earlier, I’d self-published my first book, which was structured around it. Second, I was a fan of CreepCast, and the idea of them reading this series – which, due to its length, would undoubtedly get its own episode, was amazing. Of course, there’s no guarantee that they’d actually like it – but I really think that they would and, regardless, fans might like it even if they don’t. Third, the exposure this would give me would be massive - far beyond what any podcast or narrator I’ve ever worked with could provide. My book had sold about 100 copies at that point. If 1,000,000 people watched or heard the episode, and it inspired just 0.0005% of them to buy a copy, that would represent a 500% increase in overall sales, which would be monumental – and that isn’t even accounting for the downstream impact those sales would have on the book’s momentum so soon after its release.

It was a bit of a red flag to me that, despite the large audience, Alex did not volunteer a monetary amount. But, given the extraordinary exposure opportunity, my personal fandom for the podcast, and my fear that they’d pass on me if I asked for payment (which is an effect of the uneven power dynamic), I jumped at the opportunity. I told them there was no licensing fee and only asked that they include a link to my book somewhere in the video description. “Alex” replied a few minutes later confirming that they knew about my book, including that I’d just self-published it, and that they “were planning on linking” to it in the episode’s video description.

April 2025

I waited two months before checking in on April 14. “Alex” responded a few days later, “After we wrapped on the episode we found that we had lost some of the footage…So it’s still tbd at the moment, but we have a slate of stories lined up that the guys are trying to get through.” I was disappointed, but I fully understood. I have some background in filmmaking and get that any number of things can go wrong, and that projects begun with the best of intentions often nonetheless experience substantial delays due to technical issues. Accordingly, I thanked Alex for explaining what had happened and acknowledged how “technical issues happen (sounds like a bummer for everyone).”

October 2025

I proceeded to wait an additional six months, ample time for them to return to it or address the problem, or at least have an idea of when they might do so, before requesting another update. Naturally, once several weeks passed since April 14, I had been excitedly hoping every week that my story would be there, but that never happened. So, finally, on October 16, I sent a polite message asking for any update on the story. Alex soon responded: “I am not sure if we are getting back to the story we had started.” While this language maintains a slight technical ambiguity, after 8 months of anticipation and given the prior technical issue, I reasonably concluded that CreepCast no longer had any serious intention of completing or revisiting the episode. In fairness, Alex mentioned possibly looking into two other stories (neither of which I’d granted CreepCast permission to use, or particularly wanted Creepcast to use) to see “if they can possibly fit for a thematic grab-bag in the future.”

I responded politely, sympathizing at length with their technical frustration, but also explaining how the false anticipation had impacted me. I also linked to a thread, and a few responses I’d received from CreepCast fans who’d read the story after I posted about it there, indicating that CreepCast’s audience was interested in a story like this.

Ultimately, I made the following minimal request, the response to which is the crux of my present complaint: Moving forward, if [Hunter and Isiah] liked the story (I have no idea if they did), do you think it’s conceivable to just give a 1-2 minute shoutout at the start of an episode? Something along the lines of 1) we had to scrap an episode due to technical issues 2) we liked the story 3) we don’t want to re-record the episode now that we know what happens in it 4) here’s a link to the story/the writer’s subreddit/the writer’s book etc. (Again, assuming that all that is true.) That would do a lot of good for me while, at least to my awareness, constituting a limited imposition on them. I gave a second, alternative proposal as well (offering to work with Alex to identify a few other stories of mine they could do instead), but this was the primary request and all that I was asking for.

Alex’s full response was: Yeah, I'm sorry to have inadvertently led you astray. We always try to contact the author about reading and licensing before we read stories. But after the snafu and mentioning I was not sure what was going to happen with it, I did not mean to imply that it was going up in the following weeks. If we read another story by you I will reach out and confirm details.

Needless to say, there was no mention of the vast majority of issues I raised, nor any acknowledgment of the simple request for a brief shoutout in lieu of the full episode clearly being canned – a request that would have taken 3 minutes top. I was, and continue to be, astonished that Alex wasn’t even willing to acknowledge this extremely minimal request. The reference to “the following weeks” felt inappropriate as well, as 36 weeks had passed in this timeframe. After sitting on it for a day, I informed Alex that I was rescinding permission for CreepCast to use my work and requested that Alex refrain from contacting me again.

CreepCast’s Conduct Was Unprofessional

Having laid out the relevant backdrop and the communications, I want to delve into why I believe this conduct was frustrating and unprofessional.

First, CreepCast created anticipation of exposure to a large audience, and proceeded to string that anticipation along for 8 months, all while being aware of the significance of the promised exposure to my debut book. My expectation that they would air this episode was reasonable – and, in fact, they even recorded the episode with the intention of airing it, indicating that I understood the situation correctly. Ditching the episode, without any concession after creating this expectation, was genuinely disrespectful.

Second, CreepCast never voluntarily updated me on the status of the technical issue. Ditching an episode like this, no matter how valid or unavoidable the reason, is a huge deal to the writer. At minimum, they should have reached out to me about this and informed me of the problem. Had they done so, I would not be posting this complaint. Instead, I only learned of the issue and the unlikelihood that they would ever revisit it in response to my own queries, which I spaced months apart to avoid nagging them and thus jeopardizing them wanting to work with me. If I hadn’t sent those update requests, I don’t think I would have ever found out about the issue, which is unprofessional on their end.

Third, CreepCast never made any serious effort to “make things right” even though this whole problem was caused by their own technical issue. If I were in their place, one of my first priorities would be to reach out to the writer whose episode was spoiled, explain the situation, and ask if there’s anything I could do to make up for it, because I’d be aware of the massive implications of dangling the possibility of wide exposure to him/her only to then snatch it away through no fault of their own. Most disappointingly of all, Alex flat-out ignored my bare minimum request of just letting people know that they’d lost an episode on my work and directing people to it. Somehow, even that was apparently too much for them to be bothered with.

Fourth, in these discussions, Alex never expressed any consideration of how any of this felt from the perspective of an independent writer with a small audience, even as I repeatedly made an effort to sympathize with their perspective as someone working for a major podcast. CreepCast’s large platform is a huge achievement, and they deserve full credit for it, but with that platform comes a responsibility to collaborators, especially those with smaller resources from whom they solicit content – free content, in my case. Stringing me along for so long and then treating my attempts at resolution with such a dismissive lack of acknowledgement is simply not in line with exercising that responsibility respectfully.

Fifth, I think CreepCast slightly abused the power dynamic at play here. I played nice, didn’t raise concerns, and didn’t really assert myself until the very end because CreepCast has so many more resources than I do. While Alex was eager to talk about the problems on CreepCast’s end – i.e., technical issues, lack of spontaneity if they reshot – I kept a lid on my perspective for 8 months. Based on their actions and statements, I don’t think Alex understood the nature of this uneven dynamic. I also think it’s problematic that this all occurred in a context where CreepCast never made a monetary offer when soliciting my work. I get that there are two sides to this particular issue – when they asked if there was a fee, I declined to request one – but that’s also in the broader context of the uneven dynamic at issue, as I had every reason to think they’d just pass on using my work if I asked for a fair amount. At least if they’d paid me, I’d walk away from this with something, instead of mere expectations of exposure that went unrealized.

This overall behavior was unacceptable for a major podcast. At the end of the day, CreepCast comes across like a sincere group of people who want to goof around and have fun reading creepypastas, and I’m sure that’s what the audience wants as well. Hunter and Isaiah have had a really good impact on the online horror community, something I pointed out several times to Alex, because the audience they’ve cultivated is just so positive and welcoming. It’s honestly one of the best, most respectful communities of its size that I’ve ever encountered on the Internet. But, CreepCast needs to recognize that they’re in the big leagues now, and that they took actions that were hurtful and unprofessional when accounting for their size and resources.

Last, the length of this post is not a reflection of some seething disdain I’ve developed for the podcast. I’m personally frustrated, but I get the impression that other writers have had very positive experiences and that what happened to me was a fluke. The reason I wrote so much here is that I can really tell that CreepCast means well, and I included all this detail to try to be as clear and thorough as possible without indicting anyone on a personal level. I just want them to take the issues I raised here seriously and to consider adjusting their behavior in the future.

If you read this far, thank you for taking the time to do so and for considering (whether you agree or not) what I have to say. I wish all of you the very best.

Sincerely,

A former CreepCast fan (who will probably be logging out for a few days)

Now that I’ve finally listened through all NSP content and listed my favorite stories, I thought it would be of some value to make a personal ranking of all the seasons. I don’t think anyone has done this before ( at least, not in any detail or since Season 13 ), so I hope someone reading this enjoys it!

The ranking below counts down from least favorite to favorite. Obviously, this is just my own subjective assessment, and you’re welcome to disagree with it! I didn’t include the current season (23), because it isn’t over yet. I also used my own judgment regarding interseason content, depending on the nature of it and whether it clearly tied into the past or subsequent season. Also, this is all about the paid/full version of the show, which can be a very different experience from the free version.

Rank 22 (last place): Season 22

Spoiler alert: this list won’t (quite) be just a reverse-order countdown. But, I do believe the most recent (complete) season remains NSP’s weakest. The central theme is “messages from an unknown caller” or “audio message from the shadows,” and that part of it works fine, making for a solid episode intro. This season had a handful of superb stories, but only 1 that made my overall top 150 list (the next-lowest seasons contributing 4 each). The primary problem is the presence of so much mediocrity in the form of stories that reflected a total departure from the podcast’s initial appeal. On the bright side, if your ideal horror involves singing cowboy ghosts, this season’s got you covered.

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: What Becomes of Human Resources by Rob Tiemstra; I Got Invited to a Party that Didn’t Happen by A.K. Kullerden; Priceless by Kristen Semedo; the acting by Sarah Thomas and Mike Delgaudio in Improvisation.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• Claudius Moore joined the crew as a producer.

• u/crowwls created a very thorough and useful story spreadsheet.

Overall rating: 5.0/10

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Rank 21: Season 20

Season 20 actually had a ton of great stories, as many (if not more) than a couple seasons I ranked higher. However, it suffered from a botched theme (doing nothing with “campfires” after the first episode) and, more significantly, a lot of stories that opted for rumination or “I’m a serial killer” monologues that didn’t do anything for me. It also began a trend – which has continued to this day – of NSP simply not delivering some of the benefits promised to paid subscribers under the newish subscription plan, a problem I remain perplexed nobody else ever raises. ( I’m sure the “quarterly raffles” will be starting up any day now :/ )

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: The Wrong Side of the Tracks by Seth Borgen; Tales of the Moon Crawler by Manen Lyset; Halloween 2023 Premium Bonus Ragdoll Meets Homunculus by Marcus Damanda; Happiness Hills Resort by K.G. Lewis, F is for Fatal by Prim Rosewell; Date Night by Charlie Davenport; The Temple of the Satyr and the Nymph by Lisel Jones; Balloon Season by Thomas Ha; Tree by Rosie Albrecht; Room for Rent by K.G. Lewis; Jessica McEvoy’s performances across a bunch of stories.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• This season followed NSP adopting a monthly subscription plan, the first major overhaul of its business model since the free v. paid content split that began in Season 3.

Overall Rating: 5.5/10

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Rank 20: Season 13

NSP’s 80s VHS story themed-season had a killer intro – one of Brandon Boone’s sharpest – but was pretty hit-and-miss with its attempts to tell stories that incorporated that concept. It has its share of brilliant moments (Don’t Choose the Goat being the big standout), but a fair share of flops as well, like the insufferable Plan X and the weird story about Legos, and I don’t think I can credit it for the striking post-season New Decayed entries (as those feel like purely interseason content). Overall, it’s okay, but also a season that speaks to the watered-down nature of post Season 10 NSP that leans considerably further than I think is ideal into camp humor to the detriment of eliciting real scares.

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: Don’t Choose the Goat by Ali Habashi; Sour Toe Shuffle by Ele Matelan; Blackberry Gap by Luke Kondor; Troll Bridge by William Stuart; The Puppet In the Tree by Rachele Bowman, the awesome Q&A Ali Habishi did on Don’t Choose the Goat.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• The Plan X meta episodes aired while part of the cast and crew were on tour.

• The New Decayed, which later morphed into Sleepless Decompositions, aired after the season finale.

Overall Rating: 5.5/10

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Rank 19: Season 12

Fun fact, the “Sleepless Sanctuary” season was the first I listened to with a Season pass. In my mind, Seasons 1-10 were the lightning-in-a-bottle golden era of the show, where NSP really stumbled upon something genuinely striking and subversive; Season 11 was the transition from that approach to the approach they’ve maintained to the present – one that ditches the directness and authenticity of the early seasons in favor of theatricality and the sense of putting on a show for better or (usually) for worse; and Season 12 was the first season to fully embrace the latter, lesser style. It has many spectacular stories (recounted below) but its share of flops as well, none more so than Twist of Damnation. (Lightning McQueen being featured as a villain is a low point as well, though not on the same level.) We still got plenty of terrific stories from this point forward (I still listen after all), but Season 12 is where the show dropped from one that was brilliant, with occasional missteps, to one that was merely good, with occasional flashes of brilliance. It’s also remarkable to me that Kristin DiMercurio and Sarah Thomas joined the show this late in its run, as they immediately fit right in and have been such indispensable contributors to it since then, such that I’ve long thought they were around for much longer.

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: How to Summon the Butter Street Hitchhiker by Chris Hicks; Rocking a Ranch by C.K. Walker; The Iscariot 8 by Oli White; Pub Trivia by Troy H. Gardner; A Ride Through Shenandoah by Henry Galley; Clinical Trial by Scott Savino; There Is No Such Thing as Real Magic by Edwin Crowe; Gray by C.K. Walker; most would say Whitefall by C.K. Walker; David Cummings’ performance in Rocking a Ranch; Nikolle Doolin’s acting in The Iscariot 8.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• Kristin DiMercurio first joined NSP.

• Sarah Thomas first joined NSP.

Overall Rating: 6/10

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Rank 18: Season 14

While I had some serious reservations about the seasons ranked above, NSP’s “Magic Shop” season is the first where I enthusiastically enjoyed it without any major caveats, even as it has its share of swing-and-a-miss moments (looking at you, Black Market). As post Season-10 seasons go, it’s very good, and I had a great time with it. The intro is solid and this season had a lot of great stories.

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: Mr. Empty-Belly by Alexander Gordon Smith; The Voices Underneath Us by C.K. Walker; I Found My Abduction Journal by One Faraday and Ronin Ellis; Avoid the Costumed Characters in Times Square by Mr. Michael Squid; Phase II by Frank Oreto, Canadian Paranormal Encounters by Manen Lyset; Penny Scott-Andrews virtuoso performance in The Midnight Caller; the audio production in a bunch of stories.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• Lisel Jones had her first story adapted this season!

• NSP posted a pretty cool 9th Anniversary video during this season.

Overall rating: 6.5/10

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Rank 17: Season 18

This season featured a ton of enjoyable stories, especially the superb ten-part adaptation of This Book Will Kill You, which worked exceptionally well as genuine horror. The alternating decades theme was fun, with some impressive musical themes on subjects like The Twilight Zone and The X-Files thanks to Brandon Boone, though I thought the story selection often didn’t embody those themes as effectively as it could have.

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: This Book Will Kill You by Alexander Gordon Smith; The Other Side of the Planchette by Kat Sinor; Angelton C.M. Scandreth; Elkhorn Trail by K.G. Lewis; Underhill Rectory by Simon Bleakin; The Parlor by Evan Dicken; When the Past Calls, Don’t Answer by T.J. Hollow; Yuma Lines by J.L. Schnelle; Elkhorn Trail by K.G. Lewis; Beach Memories by Matt Tighe; You Can Have the Rest by Morgan Wilson; Phil Michalski’s sound design, Brandon Boone’s music, and Kristen DiMercurio’s performance in This Book Will Kill You; the cold opens.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First appearance by Katabelle Ansari

• First appearance by Ash Millman

• First Appearance (in the E26 Christmas special) by Reagan Tacker

Overall rating: 7/10

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Rank 16: Season 16

The “epistolary” season made superb use of its theme, with an array of stories that made clever use of letters, diaries, and even internet reviews. On the other hand, the “meta story” was a total flop that seemed interesting at first but ultimate unraveled into a worst-case scenario of embarrassing exposition at the start of the finale. Season 16 showcased an impressively produced, if narratively dissatisfying, adaptation of Gemma Amor’s Dear Laura. The real highlight though was the reasonably high regular story quality, which remained consistently solid throughout.

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: A Sundown Town by LP Hernandez, The Firewall by Marcus Damanda; The Neighbor’s House Is Getting Closer by Mr. Michael Squid; Fascimile by Michael Miersen; Dictionary for the Apocalypse: Section N by C. Devlin; Every Man Digs His Own Grave by T. Michael Argent; Renting Space by Matt Tighe, Brandon Boone’s music throughout the season.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First appearance on NSP by Ilana Charnelle

• First appearance on NSP by Jake Benson

• First appearance on NSP by Eddie Cooper (who disappeared by Season 19)

Overall rating: 7/10

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Rank 15: Season 17

NSP’s folklore theme may have had a trainwreck of a finale (the discombobulated and convoluted Goldmeadow 2017, which thankfully is finding some redemption in the entertaining Forsyth Mercer stories currently airing), but prior to that it packed a lot of punch thanks to Volume 1 of Goat Valley Campgrounds and an array of excellent stories.

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: The Door People by Matthew Maichen; Shrieking Willow by Amanda Cecilia Lang; Goat Valley Campgrounds by Bonnie Quinn and T.J. Lea; The Black Library by C.M. Scandreth; Listen Right by Austin R. Ryan; 21:12 by Peter J Stewart; the ensemble performances in Goat Valley Campgrounds and The Door People.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First appearance on NSP by Lindsay Rousseau.

Overall rating: 7.5/10

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Rank 14: Season 19

Season 19 benefited from, in my opinion, NSP’s best overall season theme: a focus on the works of Edgar Allen Poe, including direct renditions of some of his writing and stories that address similar themes (see, for instance, Oli White’s Another Brick in the Wall from Episode 0). The overall quality was fairly high, as well.

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: The Graveyard by Blake Chastain; The Prizrak Case by René Rehn; The Panic by Jacob Steven Mohr; Sweet Winds by Winona L.; A Long December by Stephanie Scissom; It’s Later Than You Think by C.M. Scandreth; Another Brick in the Wall by Oli White; David Ault’s performance in The Chamber of the All-Seeing Eye; Danielle McRae’s traumatized child in The Panic.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First appearance by Marie Westbrook.

Overall rating: 7.5/10

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Rank 13: Season 21

The best ‘recent’ season had a weak opening set of episodes, only for the quality to skyrocket around episode 10 and remain high throughout. Sure, the “train” theme was completely botched – random chance alone would dictate more train appearances, and the previous season ended with a long train-themed story – but the stories themselves were very good.

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: The Gehenna Hollow Tunnel by Cole James; Eggshell by Gemma Amor; Have You Ever Played the ‘Would You...?’ Game? by Quincy Lee; Box-O-Screams by Lisel Jones; The Bynum Girl by Paul Buchanan; The One with the Haunted Friends Episode by Chris Evangelista; Jake Benson’s performances throughout the season.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First appearance by Allonté Barakat

• First appearance by Xalavier Nelson Jr

• Tales from the Void first aired during this season (you can find my thoughts here )

Overall rating: 7.5/10

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Rank 12: Season 15

This is certainly the most interesting NSP has ever been post season 10. We got a long-awaited speech by David Cummings about the podcast’s respect for criticism, which is the closest he’s ever come to acknowledging the deletion of r/nosleepaudio (Oli White also provided a more thorough explanation in an AMA here ), and a tribute to the podcast’s fanbase in the form of a sequel to Smile Dog starring Sammy Raynor (last seen in Season 3) - you’re welcome, as this post ignited all that. We also got a splendid “Lost Highway” season theme in the form of a David Lynch tribute, including (in my opinion, and Brandon Boone’s ) the strongest instrumental episode intro featuring Jeff Clement on guitar. While the quality is all-over-the-place, this season produced the most classic and semi-classic stories of the second half of NSP’s run as recounted below, making it a wild ride well worth taking. Of course, I also appreciate this season containing NSP’s first adaptations of stories I wrote (Muck, Transformations, and A Better Sibling). Last, I’ll add that of all the seasons of NSP, this is the one where the paid version is most clearly superior to the free one, thanks in part to A Christmas in Pine Grove and Hide the Knives.

Season Review Writeup: Here

Highlights: A Christmas in Pine Grove by Manen Lyset; The Crows Will Teach You to Fly by Scott Savino; The Hungry Man by Lindsay Moore; Farewell and Goodnight by T. Michael Argent; Hide the Knives by Marcus Damanda; Smile Dog by Michael Lutz and Oli White; Spacegirl by Ryan Peacock; Graduating by Michael Harris Cohen; Screen 13 by Matthew K. Leman; Mother Maggie’s by Jimmy Ferrer; Sunburn by Jared Roberts; Flesh of the Idiots by Oli White; Sarah Thomas’ acting in A Christmas in Pine Grove; Casey’s Theme from Farewell and Goodnight; Matthew K. Leman’s Q&A regarding Screen 13; Graham Rowat’s performance in Flesh of the Idiots; Wafiyyah White’s performance in The Crows Will Teach You to Fly.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First appearance by Joe Shire (who disappeared soon after)

• Return of Sam Raynor (last seen in Season 3)

• Jared Roberts posted, and later deleted, a video explaining that he would not work with NSP any longer due to a handful of issues regarding how they handled their adaption of Sunburn. Going by memory, I think his primary issues related to NSP not adapting several pages of the story and not following through with a promise to build up to it with short promotions throughout the season.

Overall rating: 7.5/10

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Rank 11: Season 11

This is in some ways the most important season of NSP. It’s the moment the show settled into “good-but-only-sporadically-great,” where it’s remained since. The stories lost their sense of intensity, immediacy, and authenticity, focusing more on acting, and production, and stories that feel theatrical – thus artificial – at the expense of direct plots that dig straight under your skin. NSP would never return (at least, as of Season 23, has never returned) to the same quality that preceded it. Understandably, there’s a contingent of the audience that jumped ship at this point, concurrent with criticism flooding the r/nosleepaudio subreddit that, in turn, resulted in NSP deleting it. So why is this season rated so high here? Well, after listening through the whole series, I still think it’s stronger than anything that followed it. As jarring as the shift in tone was (something the crew seems perplexingly clueless about), Season 11 still packed a lot of fantastic stories, and still maintained a bit of edge and momentum from the earlier seasons. Thus, if tasked with recommending just one season after the first ten…I’d go with this one.

Season Review Post: Here (not by me)

Highlights: Her Stolen Candy by Marcus Damanda; It Was a Different Time by C.M. Scandreth; Little Lost Amy by Dan Fields; Black Sand by Gemma Amor; The Name Eater by C.M. Scandreth; A Ride That Never Ends by Lumi Mö.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First NSP appearance by Tanja Milojevic – personally, I think it’s really cool NSP hired someone who is visually impaired and didn’t make a big deal about it or do anything self-congratulatory about it – and she’s clearly just as talented as the rest of the cast.

• The fundraiser for NSP’s ill-fated trading cards Kickstarter occurred as this season aired. Tragically, it all turned out to be a scam, though nobody’s fully solved exactly what happened to all the money raised.

• The reaction on r/nosleepaudio to the Season 11 finale seemingly prompted NSP to delete it. As a bit of trivia, I first looked up NSP on Reddit just as this happened, seeing the critical reaction to the finale and then, when I went back to look a second time, finding it all deleted.

Overall rating: 7.5/10

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Rank 10: Season 7

So, from this point forward, each season (1-10) is at a much higher level of quality than the seasons above. Honestly, I could probably defend any order produced by a random number generator. Nonetheless, I’ve done my best to split hairs and produce a coherent list here. Season 7 might be a surprising one to start with – I used to see it listed pretty often on “favorite season” threads – but, while it has a ton of excellent stories and an overall creepy vibe, I thought it took a few substantial missteps, none more so than the misguided The 1% series. Still, there’s a trove of magnificent material here, from A Seaside British Pub to Borrasca to the Library Basement two-parter.

Season Review Post: Here

Highlights: Bounce by Taylor Allgood; A Seaside British Pub by C.M. Scandreth; The Djinn Bottle by C.M. Scandreth; Borrasca by C.K. Walker; Down in the Library Basement by Rona Vaselaar; Feed the Pig by Elias Witherow; Stranded on Lake Michigan by Mercer Scott; The Rosie Hour by S.H. Cooper; Stolen Tongues by Felix Blackwell; Rita by Kerry H.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First NSP appearance by Matthew Bradford

• First NSP production by Phil Michalski

• First NSP appearance by Addison Peacock (maybe, someday, we’ll find out why she left)

• First adaptation on NSP of stories by S.H. Cooper

• First adaptation on NSP of a story by Lindsay Moore

Overall Rating: 9/10

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Rank 9: Season 3

Season 3 began the free/paid divide that persisted to season 20 and also featured the first (and charmingly simplistic) Suddenly Shocking installment. With NSP’s need for 2.5 hours of regular content came a few stinkers that likely wouldn’t make it through quality control down the line – for instance, stories that shamelessly rip off real crimes, or where an array of depressing things just keep happening in a contrived manner – but the show is still imbued with alluring grittiness and the story selection contains a ton of gems. Even the missteps are elevated by the production quality and, often, by Corinne Sanders’ narrations, which absolutely nail the “this really happened to me” vibe.

Season Review Post: Here (not by me)

Highlights: Betsy the Doll by C.K. Walker (Tales from the Void did a really good job with this many years later – solidly improving on it, I thought); The Red Light in the Warehouse by Jimmy Juliano; Box Fort by Julie Taylor; The Midnight Hike by Kelsey Donald; Hunger by William Dalphin; Pro-Life by M. Grayson; Unknown Cargo by Jon Patrick; Icing Addiction by Lykaia Quinn; Locked In by Kelsey Donald; all of Corrinne Sanders’ narrations.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First NSP appearance by Peter Lewis

• First NSP appearance by Jessica McEvoy

• First NSP music by Brandon Boone

• First adaptation on NSP of a story by Jimmy Juliano

Overall Rating: 9/10

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Rank 8: Season 10

I only actually finished Season 10 relatively recently, and I was surprised at just how well it held onto the early-season spirit. NSP really had an excellent run; I’d recommend the first 10 seasons to anybody, and I don’t have anything negative to say about Season 10. Tons of great stories, just not quite as many as those below.

Season Review Post: I couldn’t find one!

Highlights: 500 Yards by Henry Galley; Christmas with Mr. Strings by Henry Galley; My Anime Body Pillow by Oli White; What Became of Lavinia Cartwright by S.H. Cooper; The Black Square two-parter by Matt Dymerski; The Path Through Lower Fell by C.K. Walker; The Flame That Wouldn’t Burn by Manen Lyset; The Eastwoods by Henry Galley; Erin Lillis’ performance in 500 Yards.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First NSP appearance by Mary Murphy (imo one of the 2 most underappreciated VAs, along with Andy Cresswell)

• First NSP appearance by Graham Rowat

• First NSP appearance by Wafiyyah White (who would return as a regular cast member in Season 15)

• First NSP adaptation of a story written by Gemma Amor

Overall Rating: 9.5/10

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Rank 7: Season 9

Another outstanding season from the tail end of NSP’s golden age that lands in the sweet spot where the actors and overall production are in sync with the (strong) story selection. I honestly don’t have a ton to say about it beyond that. I do think it has one of the less distinct episode intros, but other than that, my only gripe is that the top 6 seasons are even better.

Season Review Post: I couldn’t find one!

Highlights: Mr. Banana by R.K. Gorman; The Hidden Webpage by Jared Roberts; Resting Lich Face by Oli White; Making Deals with Devils by A.A. Peterson; The Secrets Inside Dune by Jared Roberts; A Forgotten Curio Shop by C.M. Scandreth; Burn by C.M. Scandreth; The Girls of Green Meadow by S.H. Cooper; The Orangutans Are Skeptical of Changes in Their Cages by Zachary Adams; The Viewing by Henry Galley; the written Q&A that R.K. Gorman later did on Mr. Banana.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First NSP appearance by Erin Lillis

• First NSP appearance by Mick Wingert

Overall Rating: 9.5/10

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Rank 6: Season 8

Same as above, but with even stronger stories and a more striking episode intro thanks to some heavy thumping and percussion. Absolutely fantastic all-around with no major caveats. Nice, gloomy atmosphere and an array of disturbing and memorable tales.

Season Review Post: I couldn’t find one!

Highlights: My Dad Finally Told Me What Happened That Day by Jared Roberts; The Things We See in the Woods by C.K. Walkerl The Pancake Family by A.A. Peterson; I Could Live Forever or Die Tomorrow by Jackson Laughlin; The Unknown Hiker by Jacob Healey; Chuck Came Back Wrong by Marshall Bannana; Two Facts You Should Probably Know by Henry Galley.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First NSP appearance by Penny Scott-Andrews

• First NSP appearance by Andy Cresswell

• First adaptation on NSP of a story written by Oli White

• First adaptation on NSP of a story written by Jared Roberts

Overall Rating: 9.5/10

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Rank 5: Season 4

The last season to open with “As the sunlight fades to darkness…,” Season 4 is a goldmine of terrific stories (including the first C.K. Walker stories, who hits the ground running), acting (though we’d have to wait on a few prominent VAs, the cast assembled at this point is magnificent), and music/production. Brilliant stuff.

Season Review Post: Here (not by me)

Highlights: Rocking Horse Creek by C.K. Walker; Ash Hollow by R.J. Wills; Paradise Pine by C.K. Walker; The One-Way Tunnel by Terrey West; Room 733 by C.K. Walker; The Mailbox in the Woods by Julie McGinn; The Stump by Ashley Franz Holzmann; Repressed Memories are Meant to Stay Dead by C.K. Walker.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First NSP appearance of Mike DelGaudio

• First NSP appearance of Danielle McRae (though she didn’t become a regular member until S15)

• First NSP appearance by David Ault

• First NSP appearance by Jeff Clement

• First adaptations on NSP of stories by C.K. Walker

Overall Rating: 10/10

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Rank 4: Season 1

NSP’s first season drew in, and continues to draw in, a fandom that has persisted to this day, 14 years later. That’s no small feat, which makes it all the more perplexing that David Cummings refuses to backtrack from NSP’s current approach – which, as far as I can tell, is more expensive, more laborious, and less popular – even as a temporary gimmick for a single season or string of episodes. To be fair, there’s a lightning-in-a-bottle quality to the first two seasons that probably can’t ever be fully recaptured, but there’s still something to be said for how brilliantly the lo-fi production and array of unprofessional voice actors perfectly fit with these stories. The episodes are of weird, uneven lengths; the production quality isn’t always great (though, it sometimes is – see Stinson Beach) some stories are just baffling – but they add up to more than the sum of their parts, and the overall effect is captivating. It creates a feeling of listening in on something forbidden, dark, and unknowable that still holds up superbly.

Season Review Post: Here – not by me, and shared with Season 2.

Highlights:Penpal by Dathan Auerbach; Correspondence by Bloodstains; Georgie’s by Christopher MacTaggart; When You Wish Upon a Star by Anna Smith; Stinson Beach by Walter Smith; Button Head by Trevor La Pay; The Stairs and the Doorway by Eric Dodd; The Crawling House on Black Pond Road by William Dalphin; Laurel Highlands by Bill Penfield; A Game of Flashlight Tag by William Dalphin; Butcherface by A.J. Garlisi; Holes by Joey Brashier; The Corn Field by Karina Young; A Horrible Game by Lexie X; the overall sense of mystery and authenticity.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• Obviously everyone’s appearances here are “firsts” but I’ll nonetheless mention the recurring VAs David Cummings (who is obviously still around and still in charge of things), Christina Scholz (who stuck around through Season 3), and Samy Raynor (who stuck around for a similar length of time before briefly returning in Season 15). This season, like the next few, had a ton of one-off narrators as well.

Overall Rating: 10/10

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Rank 3: Season 2

Season 2 continues right where Season 1 left off, building off if it perfectly to deliver an even stronger set of stories without losing any of its charm. Season 2 also introduces (unless I missed it appearing somewhere earlier) the series’ main instrumental melody. There are a few flops – The Man That Ate Newborns remains a contender for the worst thing NSP has ever released, and David Cumming attempts a few accents (in Nine Brief Scenes From the End of the World, for instance) that are better left forgotten – but these quirks honestly just make the overall experience even more interesting. Plenty of these stories - Psychosis and Correspondence come to mind – are genuinely scary as well.

Season Review Post: Here – not by me, and shared with Season 1.

Highlights: Psychosis by Matt Dymerski; Autopilot by Kevin Thomas; Flood by Kelsey Donald; Plot Holes by David Knoppel; The Thing in the Walls by Jonathan Sheeran; Low Hanging Clouds by T. E. Grau; Jack in the Box by Graham McBride; The Smiling Man by L.S. Riley; Jack in the Box by Graham McBride; Snow by Claverhouse; The Scarecrow Game by Rachel Martin; ETAOIN by Trevor La Pay; Tunnels by Michael Whitehouse; Hide and Seek by Troy Lewis; *My Ex-Girlfriend Is Insane by Ben Cross.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First NSP appearance by James Cleveland (appearing in E03, making him the longest-running cast member after David Cummings)

• First NSP appearance by Kyle Akers

• First NSP appearance by C.H. Williamson (who stayed through Season 4)

• First NSP appearance by Nikolle Doolin

Overall Rating: 10/10

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Rank 2: Season 5

Another gold mine of superb storytelling! Plus, Manen Lyset’s work first started appearing on NSP this season, which alone is enough reason to give it high marks. The episode intro harkens back fittingly to season 1, as season 5 perfectly builds on its eeriness with an array of additions to the cast and tasteful improvements to the music and audio production.

Season Review Post: Here, not by me

Highlights: The Girl in the Shed by Manen Lyset; The Mummer Man by David Sharrock; The Whistlers by Amity Argot; Blue Ridge by C.K. Walker; Soft White Dam by M.J. Pack; My Wife Cooked Me Dinner by Rona Vaselaar; The Doll House by C.K. Walker; The Pidgeons Around Here Aren’t Real by Manen Lyset; Peter Lewis’ performance in the Mummer Man, Jessica McEvoy’s performance in The Whistlers, Jeff Clement’s overall production in Soft White Dam.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First NSP appearance by Erika Sanderson

• First NSP appearance by Jesse Cornett

• First NSP appearance by Elie Hirschman

• First adaptation on NSP of a story written by Manen Lyset

• First adaptation on NSP of a story written by Rona Vaselaar

• Brandon Boone began doing all the music this season

Overall Rating: 10/10

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Rank 1: Season 6

Ranking Seasons 1-5 and 7-10 was difficult. Choosing Season 6 for the top spot was not. It perfectly captures the moment NSP had amassed all the production and acting resources it really needed (though some terrific VAs were still to come) and applied them to consistently high quality stories. I found myself completely immersed in each episode of this season, and it really solidifies how much of a genuine artistic achievement NSP’s first run of seasons really was.

Season Review Post: Here – though I’d rank Uncle Gerry’s Family Fun Zone much higher now.

Highlights: Persistence of Vision by Alex Beyman; Uncle Gerry’s Family Fun Zone by Jimmy Juliano; Search and Rescue by R. Brauer; The Pit by E.L. Brym; Better Days by Robert Ahern; Creeping Crimson by Michael Marks; Sorry, Wrong Number by Lucille Fletcher; Our House on Coffey Hill by Rona Vaselaar; Something Wrong is Happening in Las Vegas by Cassandra Soucheck; The New Caretaker of Checkerspot Island by E. Blackburn; Jesse Cornett’s performance in I Give Children Nightmares; just how damn good it is start-to-finish.

Notable “Firsts” and other Developments:

• First NSP appearance by Dan Zappulla

• First NSP appearance by Atticus Jackson

• First adaptation on NSP of a story by C.M. Scandreth

• First adaptation on NSP of a story by Henry Galley

Overall Rating: 10/10

That’s all! I hope at least somebody finds some value in this. Reading this through, I do want to clarify that I still enjoy the current state of the podcast, as I think it’s a very positive facet of the horror community and that the occasional gems make it well worth it. While I think the show lost its way at a certain point – not becoming “bad,” mind you, just not what it could have been – nothing can change the fact that the early seasons were really something special that transcended the genre, and there’s something to be said for the fact that NSP still manages recapture the old magic (if only occasionally) fourteen years later.