Some True Crime stories announce themselves loudly.

This one doesn’t.

It begins quietly — with a late shift, a famous name, and a decision that, on the surface, feels ordinary. But beneath it sits a Murder Investigation that would stretch across years, courtrooms, and headlines, becoming one of the most unsettling Celebrity Crime cases in modern memory.

In this episode of Stories Fables Ghostly Tales, we examine the death of Lana Clarkson and the long road that followed — a case forever tied to Phil Spector, the legendary Beatles Producer, architect of The Wall of Sound, and one of the most influential figures in Music History.

But this is not a story about musical genius.

It’s a story about power, pressure, and what happens when Hollywood’s glow fades into something much darker.

On the night she died, Lana Clarkson was working at the House of Blues — a working actress doing what so many in Hollywood do to stay afloat. By morning, she was dead inside Pyrenees Castle, Phil Spector’s fortress-like mansion, and the world was left trying to understand what had happened behind those gates.

As the case unfolds, this episode guides you through:

• The Hollywood Murders narrative that quickly took shape in the media

• How Forensic Science became central to challenging the initial defence

• Why this case turned into years of tense Courtroom Drama, including a mistrial and a second jury

• How fame, legacy, and public perception collided with evidence and testimony

This isn’t sensational storytelling.
There’s no spectacle here — only careful reconstruction, verified facts, and the quiet weight of accountability.

Because when a case involves a music icon, a guarded estate, and a woman whose life was reduced to a headline, the most important thing is getting the story right.

If you think you know the Phil Spector case — listen closely.
There are details here that rarely receive the attention they deserve.

Thank you all for your amazing support!!! It's almost that time of year and I'm excited for the new year ahead legends!!! Again you are all amazing and thank you for the love!! 💜💜💜

Welcome legends to your Research and True Crime Episode!

Skidmore, Missouri is the kind of town you’d usually drive through without ever taking off your sunglasses. One main street, a couple of brick buildings, fields on every side.

And in 1981, that quiet little dot on the map did something unthinkable.

In broad daylight, in the middle of Main Street, the town bully Ken Rex McElroy was shot to death while sitting in his red pickup truck.
Dozens of people were there.
No one “saw” who did it.
No one was ever charged.

In this story, I walk you through:

• Who McElroy was, and how one man could hold an entire town in fear for years

• The shooting of an elderly grocer that should have put him away

• The tense town meeting at the Legion Hall, where people quietly realised the law wasn’t going to save them

• The slow, silent walk down Main Street

• The red truck, the gunshots, and the instant, perfect wall of “I didn’t see a thing”

And because this is Stories Fables Ghostly Tales, we thread it all through one extra chill:

A teenager with a camera.
One photo taken seconds before the shots.
And a strange shape caught in the truck’s window…

Maybe it’s a trick of the light.
Maybe it’s guilt.
Maybe it’s the moment a whole town becomes something it can’t easily explain.

This one isn’t about jump scares or gore.
It’s about fear, power, and what people do when they’ve run out of “proper” options.

If tiny towns, unsolved justice, and the feeling that something is still standing on that empty street at night gets under your skin…

WHAT would you have done mates....let Ken rule your town even though he's almost taken a life? Tell me your thoughts...

Hit play...and...
Welcome to Skidmore.

A black-and-white portrait of Ken Rex McElroy.

Main Street, Skidmore

• A current-day photo of Skidmore’s main drag: cracked road, small storefronts, flat Midwestern horizon. Great for getting the “tiny, worn farm town” feel.

Gratefully yours....Here's to more True Crime Stories legends!

Your Tale Teller! 💜💜💜💜💜💜

Greetings, my dearest creeps, connoisseurs of atmosphere, and candle-lit listeners —
it’s your friendly neighbourhood Tale Teller stepping softly through a creaking doorway tonight…because this episode...well...
This one comes straight from the dusty, shadowy vaults of old-time radio royalty.

We are diving into one of the great macabre institutions of the 1940s:

The famous creaking door opens…
and what slips through is a tale thick with guilt, paranoia, and deliciously human dread.

“The Death of Mr Putnam” is a classic slow-burn thriller:
no monsters, no fangs, no fireballs —
just people facing the echo of their own secrets
as fate taps its long, bony fingers against the window.

Expect:

• 🕯️ Whispered suspicions

• 🖤 A death that doesn’t add up

• 🔍 Guilt turning into something almost supernatural

• 🎙️ That iconic Inner Sanctum dark humour

• 🩸 And the creeping sense that someone in that room is lying

This one was a joy to remaster and narrate, and I hope it brings you the same delicious unease those early radio fans felt huddled around their sets in the 1940s.

Inner Sanctum’s “The Mysterious Death of Mr. Putnam” is classic old-school spooky fun — not with ghosts or ghouls, but with people being… well, people. The whole episode leans into awkward silences, weird vibes, and side-eyed tension as everyone tries a bit too hard to act normal after Mr. Putnam suddenly drops dead under circumstances that feel just slightly off. Putnam becomes this kind of “presence” even though he’s not there anymore — his absence tells you everything you need to know, and absolutely nothing at the same time.

Everyone around him feels twitchy, defensive, or oddly rehearsed, and the story slowly tightens around those reactions until guilt and paranoia start spilling out everywhere. It’s not about what lurks in the shadows — it’s about what people hope no one ever finds out.

And of course, it wouldn’t be Inner Sanctum without that creaking door and Raymond popping in with his trademark “I shouldn’t be laughing at this but I am” style of humour. The episode moves at a snappy pace, building the tension bit by bit, until the final reveal lands with that deliciously ironic, poetic justice the series was known for. Nothing flashy, nothing supernatural — just a good, tight psychological mystery about people cracking under pressure.

“The Mysterious Death of Mr. Putnam” is one of those stories that reminds you why Inner Sanctum still holds up today: it’s eerie, clever, character-driven, and proves that sometimes the scariest stuff is just the quiet truth people are trying way too hard to hide.

Thank you so much for listening legends!!! All the love and I really enjoyed remastering this one 🌞💜💜💜💜🌞

Welcome back, wanderers of the uncanny —
it’s your midnight Tale Teller, reporting from somewhere under the canopy,
where the forest listens more intently than any living thing should.

Our story, The Grey Daughter Hollow, follows a forest with memory deeper than soil,
children who return changed,
and a detective whose grief makes him the perfect seed for something ancient.

This tale doesn’t leap —
it roots.
It spreads slow and silent,
like something growing beneath the floorboards of your mind.

Theo steps past the treeline, lured by whispers only the young can hear.
The forest consumes him softly.
What forms beneath the soil is not a boy —
but the forest’s first reshaped child.

Sadie breaks the rules, hopping the fence on a dare.
Graydaughter takes her too, but with more intention.
She emerges underground with fungus-eyes and a sharper, more knowing mind —
a second experiment.

Detective Rourke investigates the disappearances.
He hears movement beneath the soil —
hands, breathing, a forest shifting awake.
Theo and Sadie sense him.
And the forest tastes his grief.
It approves.

Rourke returns at night.
Theo surfaces, trembling, remembering his own name —
a failure the forest never intended.
Sadie rises too, violent and perfected.
Theo protects Rourke.
Gray daughter punishes them both.
The forest begins to see Rourke differently.

Rourke is pulled underground.
He sees the core:
a massive, living archive built from the fused bodies of every child the forest has ever taken.
Among them, he recognizes his daughter’s remains —
not resurrected, only remembered and badly copied.

The forest begins sculpting Rourke as its new creation —
not a creature that hides,
but one that can walk the world,
lure children,
and carry the forest’s will outward.
Theo tries to save him.
The forest tightens its grip.
Rourke’s transformation begins.

Thank you for venturing this far into the hollow.
This tale doesn’t sprint —
it burrows.
It waits.
It thrives in the quiet between breaths.

The darkest part of the story still lies ahead.
And the forest’s patience…
has grown very thin.

Stay curious, stay wary,
and if the earth moves beneath your feet tonight…

...don’t look down...

— Your Tale Teller 🕯️🌲

Two tales braided by one question: what happens when the things meant to protect us—skin and silence—start letting something else in?

😱Content Warnings: body horror (skin/teeth/eyes), psychological distress, invasive/possessive spaces, loss of agency; no graphic gore.

🔊SPECIAL SONG AT THE END | Hope you love it!

A bruise opens like a polite mouth on Mae’s ribs, asking for warmth, for quiet, for her. Doctors call it an artifact; it behaves like a door... Each night the hunger refines its manners until the only thing it wants is a hand to hold on the other side.

A body becomes a threshold, and care becomes consent—one fingertip at a time...

In a building where the lease forbids names after midnight, the walls begin to listen. The vents chew on stolen syllables, learning how to make a tongue. All it needs to own you is the sound you make when you say yourself.

Architecture grows a mouth; a tenant learns that silence is structural—and costly.

• Bodies & buildings as doors. Thresholds that remember the hands that open them.

• The price of comfort. When safety speaks in your voice, can you tell keeping from taking?

• Names as architecture. Some beams are load-bearing; remove one and the house learns to bite.

Excerpt — Quiet Hours:
“Who are you?” the duct asked, using everyone’s voices. She could have said nobody. She whispered her name instead, and the wall flexed—just enough to suggest muscle.

Excerpt — The Soft Place:
Her finger slipped through the bruise like water parting for a prayer. On the other side, something matched her shape and pressed back, grateful as a neighbor who’d been alone too long.

Thank you so much for supporting me legends, for supporting the podcast, and for listening! I hope these tales tonight really got under your skin....figuratively heheheh. 💜💜💜💜

Welcome back, my dearest creeps and connoisseurs of the uncanny — it’s your friendly neighbourhood Tale Teller, reporting live from the wrong side of a salt circle!

Our latest story, The Wellness Pit, is an outback horror about self-improvement gone feral.
It’s a tale of a small, sunburned town called Wattle’s Rest, where the road kills dry faster than the gossip, and a mobile wellness clinic rolls in with big smiles, bigger promises, and a very particular brand of body transformation.

...It’s wellness culture with a scalpel
....Self-care with a summoning circle
...A horror story wrapped in customer service and sold at an introductory price.

This isn’t a jump-scare story — this one builds.
Like heat under tin...
Like hunger under skin...

Chapter 1 — The Shed with Promises
A mysterious “Wellness Clinic” sets up shop in the red dust just outside Wattle’s Rest.
It’s shiny, sterile, and smells faintly of citrus and lies.
Locals wander in, curious. There are jars labelled Youth, Clarity, Ascend.
And out back? A shallow pit that steams… even when the night goes cold.

Chapter 2 — The Circle and the Mirror
Business is booming. People step inside and come out lighter — in more ways than one.
The clinic’s routines are half beauty treatment, half quiet ritual.
Salt rings, candles, a mirror that seems to breathe.
Everyone looks better.
No one looks quite right...

Chapter 3 — Bodies as Payment Plans
The town gets hooked. The transformations turn precise — too precise.
Skin reorganises. Faces perfect themselves.
People start sweating geometry...
It’s not gore — it’s worse. It’s order....

Wattle’s Rest becomes a community of the almost-perfect,
and perfection, as it turns out, has a terrifying appetite.

Beneath the dust and ritual, The Wellness Pit is a story about:

• Vanity and desperation — how far people will go to feel seen, wanted, “fixed.”

• Body horror and capitalism — when your own skin becomes the payment plan.

• Fame, filters, and decay — the worship of the self until nothing human’s left to adore.

• Small-town isolation — because when the world forgets you,
  you’ll welcome anything that promises to remember your name.

It’s a critique of society’s obsession with youth, money, and beauty —
told through the lens of outback horror and quiet apocalypse.

Just people… getting exactly what they paid for.....well.....maybe more...

From here, Wattle’s Rest is about to evolve.
The clinic’s reach extends, the mirror deepens, and the townsfolk begin to realize that perfection isn’t a destination — it’s a hunger.

What is heading our way:

• The rituals to grow bolder.

• The humour to get darker.

• And the mirror… to start watching back.

If you’ve enjoyed the slow burn of The Wellness Pit so far — thank you!
It’s one of those stories that crawls rather than runs, that takes its time peeling back the skin to show what’s underneath — both literally and metaphorically.

The horror’s just warming up, and trust me, the best (or worst) of it still hasn’t stepped into the light.

Stay strange, stay curious,
and for the love of everything sacred and symmetrical —
don’t stand too close to the mirror.

- The Tale Teller 🕯️