Radiodrama Stories

Midnight Air — Episode Two Opening Scene The room is dimmer tonight. The fireplace glows, but the flames seem slower—like they’re burning underwater. A new lamp sits on the desk, its shade pale and cracked, casting a sickly yellow light. The shadows it throws are long and crooked, bending in ways they shouldn’t. The rug is gone. In its place, bare floorboards creak softly beneath Brian’s chair. A chill hangs in the air, n...

Midnight Air — Episode One Opening Scene The room is dim. A fake fireplace glows in front of the desk, its flickering light casting long shadows across the floor. The flames aren’t real, but they dance like they are—soft, orange, hypnotic. Brian sits behind the mic, facing the glow, like a man telling ghost stories around a campfire. The walls are lined with shelves—records, tapes, notebooks with curling edges. The air sm...

The station sits on the edge of nowhere. Not on any map. Not on any road. Just a rusted tower rising from a clearing in the firs, somewhere along the fog-choked coast of Oregon. The sea is close—you can hear it if the wind is right—but no one’s ever found the shoreline from here. There’s a single dirt road that leads to the station. It twists through the forest like it’s trying to forget where it goes. Only one, maybe two...