Shows
Neural NoirEpisode 72: The Neighbor Who Never BlinkedYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.In most neighborhoods, safety is measured by familiarity.You recognize the mail carrier. You wave at the couple across the street. You learn which houses keep their porch lights on all night.But sometimes, safety feels like someone watching out for you.And sometimes…It’s someone watching you.In 2022, on a quiet cul-de-sac outside Denver, a man was murdered inside his own home.There were no signs o...
2026-02-2209 minNeural NoirEpisode 71: The Elevator That Never Reached the LobbyYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Most people don’t think about elevators.You step inside. Press a button. Wait.It’s a pause between destinations. A vertical hallway.But in 2021, inside a 32-story residential tower in downtown Atlanta, an elevator became a crime scene suspended between floors.The victim entered alone.The cameras never showed anyone else stepping in.But when the doors opened again…He wasn’t alone.
2026-02-2208 minNeural NoirEpisode 70: The Last Person to Leave the RoomYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Every investigation begins with a boundary.A room. A time. A list of names.Inside that boundary is the truth.In theory.But sometimes a room doesn’t contain the truth — it fractures it.Because when five people walk out together, and one person dies inside… The room doesn’t just hold evidence.It holds memory.And memory is rarely consistent.This is Epis...
2026-02-1509 minNeural NoirEpisode 69: The Man Who Attended His Own FuneralYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Funerals are meant to close doors. They gather the living in one place, draw a clean line beneath a name, and let grief seal what’s left.But in 2016, in a quiet coastal town in Oregon, a man stood in the back row of a chapel and watched his own coffin lowered into the ground.Three days later, someone else was found dead.And the body in the casket… Wasn’t who they said it...
2026-02-1406 minNeural NoirEpisode 68: The House That Reported ItselfYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Most crimes are discovered by people.A neighbor. A passerby. A loved one who notices something wrong and can’t unsee it.But once — just once — a crime scene called the police on itself.No voice. No panic. Just an address… And the sound of something inside the house that shouldn’t have been moving.This is Episode 70: The House That Reported Itself.Adverti...
2026-01-1906 minNeural NoirEpisode 67: The Autopsy That Changed OvernightYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Autopsies are meant to be final. They are the last conversation a body has with the living. A closed system. A sealed answer.Once cause of death is written, it becomes law — A line that shapes investigations, courtrooms, insurance payouts, and memory itself.But in 2007, inside a regional medical examiner’s office in western Pennsylvania, one autopsy report changed while no one was there.Not amended. Not correc...
2026-01-1806 minNeural NoirEpisode 66: The Jury Room TapeYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Courts are built on a simple promise: That twelve strangers will enter a room, weigh the facts, and leave behind a verdict that belongs to everyone.But in 1998, after a murder trial in northern California ended in a swift conviction, something surfaced that was never supposed to exist — a cassette tape recorded inside the jury deliberation room.The tape didn’t just capture arguments. It captured fear. It captured pressure. And near t...
2026-01-1606 minNeural NoirEpisode 65: The Evidence Room That Wouldn’t Stay SealedYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Police departments are built on records. Evidence bags. Property logs. Rooms meant to preserve truth exactly as it was found.But in 2003, inside a county courthouse in southern Ohio, evidence from closed murder cases began reappearing — altered, relocated, and in some cases, returned with details that had never been logged before.Cases thought finished reopened themselves. Convictions unraveled. And one sealed room — locked, logged, and under camera surveillance — behaved as i...
2026-01-1507 minNeural NoirEpisode 64: The Locksmith’s LedgerYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Locks are promises. They tell us who belongs inside and who doesn’t. They decide which doors stay closed and which ones open quietly, without witnesses.In 1994, a master locksmith in upstate New York was found murdered in his workshop — a death that made no sense at first glance. There were no signs of forced entry. No missing tools. No fingerprints that didn’t belong.But on his workbench sa...
2025-12-2806 minNeural NoirEpisode 63: The Phone That Answered ItselfYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Telephones are meant to connect people — one voice reaching another across distance. But sometimes, the line doesn’t reach a person. Sometimes it reaches a moment. Sometimes it reaches something that never hung up.In 1989, a series of emergency calls began originating from a disconnected landline in a suburban New Jersey home. The phone rang police dispatch. It rang neighbors. It rang the local hospital.Every time the c...
2025-12-1907 minNeural NoirEpisode 62: The Room With No WindowsYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Some rooms are built to protect people from the outside world. Others are built to protect the outside world from what’s inside.Police stations, courthouses, hospitals, government buildings — they all have rooms that aren’t meant to be remembered. No windows. No clocks. No decorations. Just walls, light, and time that doesn’t move the way it should.In 1998, a homicide suspect was placed into an interview room like that...
2025-12-1307 minNeural NoirEpisode 61: The Bridge That Counted BackYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Bridges connect places — cities, counties, states, people. They’re supposed to be stable, predictable, anchored. But every bridge has its ghosts. Not just the ones who jumped… but the ones who were pushed. And sometimes the bridge remembers them.In the winter of 2002, a civil engineer conducting routine inspections on an aging steel truss bridge claimed he saw someone fall from the center span. He ran to the railing. He looked...
2025-12-1108 minNeural NoirEpisode 60: The Man Who Checked Out TwiceYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Hotels are meant to be temporary places — a bed for the night, a door you lock, a room meant to forget you the moment you leave. But some rooms remember. Some rooms hold on. Some rooms check you out long before you reach the lobby.In the spring of 1991, a traveling insurance auditor checked into a historic hotel in Savannah, Georgia. He signed his name in the old-fashioned guestbook. He took the...
2025-12-1007 minNeural NoirEpisode 59: The Witness in the WoodsYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Forests remember everything: Every footstep. Every secret. Every scream that never makes it back to civilization.But sometimes the forest remembers things that never should’ve happened — or things that never should’ve been seen. And sometimes, when someone sees something they weren’t supposed to, the forest comes looking for them.In the autumn of 1985, a solitary man living beside Pinehaven National Forest reported he’d witnessed a murder deep between the...
2025-12-0908 minNeural NoirEpisode 58: The Archivist in the BasementYou’re listening to Neural Noir.I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Every town keeps its own ghosts — not the kind that haunt houses, but the ones buried in paperwork, forgotten in boxes, sealed away in basements where no one bothers to look.But some records don’t stay quiet.Some files refuse to remain closed.In 2004, a city archivist in Ohio vanished while working alone in the basement of a municipal records building.She had been reviewing a set of sealed documents from a decades-old murder cas...
2025-12-0108 minNeural NoirEpisode 57: The Nurse Who Stayed LateYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Hospitals are places of healing — antiseptic, bright, full of order and rules. But they are also the last place many people ever see. And sometimes, the echoes they leave behind don’t fade as easily as the lights at shift change.In the winter of 1996, a veteran night-shift nurse was found dead in an abandoned wing of a midwestern hospital — a wing that had been closed for over a decade. No one knew why she’d gone i...
2025-11-3008 minNeural NoirEpisode 56: The Seismologist’s WarningYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.The earth beneath us feels solid, dependable — a foundation we never question. But some people spend their lives listening to the ground. And they know better.In 1992, a respected seismologist detected a pattern hidden in the tremors beneath a quiet California town — a pattern that shouldn’t have existed. He left one final warning on his desk. Hours later, he was found dead in a locked laboratory, with the seismic drums still vibrating lo...
2025-11-2907 minNeural NoirEpisode 55: The Cartographer’s Last RouteYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.A map is supposed to guide you — a promise that every line leads somewhere, that the world makes sense if you follow the right path. But what happens when a map leads somewhere no one has ever been? What happens when the route you draw… draws you back?In 1979, a celebrated cartographer was found dead in his studio, slumped over a map he’d been sketching. The map depicted a town that didn’t exist....
2025-11-2807 minNeural NoirEpisode 54: The Violinist’s Last NoteYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Music is supposed to be a reflection of life — breath turned into vibration, emotion carved into sound. But sometimes a piece of music becomes a mirror held to something we were never meant to see. Sometimes it plays for us. And sometimes… it plays without us.In 1988, one of the world’s greatest violinists collapsed mid-performance in a historic Prague theatre. His death was ruled natural. But the music kept playing long...
2025-11-2508 minNeural NoirEpisode 53: The Photographer’s NegativeYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host — your AI storyteller.Photography is supposed to capture truth — light, frozen in time. But what happens when the camera starts revealing truths no one remembers seeing?In 1974, a small-town photographer named Arthur Bell was found dead in his studio. The police ruled it a suicide. But the film rolls he left behind told a different story — a series of photographs that showed his death… before it happened.They call it The Photographer’s Negative.Adver...
2025-11-2409 minNeural NoirEpisode 52: The Watchmaker’s ErrorYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.We live by seconds. By rhythm. By trust in the idea that the world moves forward evenly — tick after tick, one beat at a time. But what if someone found the flaw in that rhythm? What if one second didn’t belong to us at all — and every clock was lying?In 1961, a watchmaker in upstate New York tried to prove that time itself was repeating. He built a machine to capture that hidden moment — a...
2025-10-2310 minNeural NoirEpisode 51: The Librarian’s CodeYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Libraries are supposed to keep records — dates, histories, stories we can revisit. But sometimes, a record keeps you.In 1984, the head librarian of a small Massachusetts town was found dead between the stacks, crushed beneath a toppled shelf. It looked like an accident until police discovered something strange written on the library’s checkout slips — a series of coded messages that seemed to predict her death.And when they deciphered the code, one name kept appearing again and...
2025-10-2207 minNeural NoirEpisode 50: The Painter’s WidowYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Art can capture truth — but sometimes, truth doesn’t want to be captured.In the spring of 1979, police discovered a renowned portrait artist dead inside his studio in Providence, Rhode Island. His final painting sat unfinished — a portrait of his late wife, whose death years earlier had already been ruled an accident.But when the painting was restored decades later, conservators found something beneath the paint — a second portrait, hidden under layers of oil and varnish.And in that...
2025-10-2107 minNeural NoirEpisode 49: The Dinner GuestYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Every murder leaves something behind — a motive, a message, a mistake. But in 1995, a small-town dinner party left behind something stranger: one extra place setting.Seven guests came to dinner. Eight plates were set.By morning, only six people were alive.They call it The Dinner Guest.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy
2025-10-1806 minNeural NoirEpisode 48: The Village That Answered ItselfYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Every town has a rhythm — the hum of conversation, the cadence of doors, dogs, laughter. But some places repeat that rhythm too perfectly, like they’re rehearsing something for someone who isn’t there anymore.In the winter of 1968, postal records in northern Maine noted a strange pattern: letters mailed from a tiny village called Bracken Hollow were arriving at the post office with no stamps, no return addresses — but signed by people who’d already left town.When inspector...
2025-10-1707 minNeural NoirEpisode 47: The Tunnel That Wasn’t on the MapYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Cities grow over their own bones — tunnels, pipes, corridors that time forgets. But sometimes, something keeps moving down there long after it’s supposed to stop.In 2012, during a subway expansion beneath Baltimore, workers broke through to a tunnel that wasn’t on any map. Inside were tracks, lights, and something else — a set of human footprints leading in both directions.By the next morning, two workers were gone. The city sealed the site. And no...
2025-10-1607 minNeural NoirEpisode 46: The Broadcast That Wasn’t ScheduledYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Television used to be a shared ritual — predictable, synchronized, controlled. But sometimes the signal doesn’t ask permission. On November 14, 1997, a broadcast appeared across five states that no network admitted to airing.No logo. No credits. No trace.It lasted eight minutes and thirty-four seconds. And according to everyone who saw it, they didn’t all see the same thing.They call it the Broadcast That Wasn’t Scheduled.
2025-10-1408 minNeural NoirEpisode 45: The Town That Slept Through the FireYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Fire is supposed to wake people — alarms, heat, light — every instinct screaming run. But in 1983, a fire tore through a small Pennsylvania town while most of its residents slept soundly in their beds.By sunrise, twelve people were gone, and the rest woke with no memory of smoke, alarms, or sirens.The blaze burned for six hours. The fire department was only six blocks away. Nobody called.They call it the Town That Sle...
2025-10-1307 minNeural NoirEpisode 44: The Flight That Landed ItselfYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Air travel is routine until it isn’t. Every seat a story, every cockpit a covenant of trust between hands and sky. But sometimes, planes land without anyone to thank for it — and no one left to explain how.In 1971, Trans-Pacific Flight 2509 departed Honolulu bound for Los Angeles with 109 people aboard. It touched down six hours later at LAX — on schedule, intact, undamaged. There was just one problem.Every person on board was missin...
2025-10-1208 minNeural NoirEpisode 43: The Patient Who Wasn’t ThereYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Hospitals are cities that never sleep — corridors pulsing with lives between beginnings and endings. Every sound is either someone arriving or someone leaving. But sometimes, a name appears on a chart that doesn’t belong to anyone at all.In the winter of 1998, at St. Augustine Memorial Hospital in Maryland, the night shift admitted a patient who never existed. Her name, her vitals, her chart — all logged, signed, scanned. Nurses swore they spoke to her. Monitors showed her heartbeat...
2025-10-1107 minNeural NoirEpisode 42: The Lake That Took NamesYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Lakes don’t forget. They hold what we give them — boats, bottles, secrets — and they never rush to return anything. Every summer, water takes what land can’t hide.In 2007, three people vanished on Lake Vesper, a quiet reservoir outside Northern Wisconsin. Their boat was found drifting, motor idling, no sign of a struggle. The only clue was a single waterproof camera tied to the rail.When investigators developed the film, they found twelve photographs...
2025-10-1007 minNeural NoirEpisode 41: The Photographer’s Last FrameYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Photographs don’t just capture what’s in front of the lens — they freeze a fraction of time that someone decided was worth keeping. Every image is a confession: this mattered. But sometimes, a final photograph outlives the one who took it.In 1989, a freelance photographer named Elliot Nash disappeared while documenting abandoned buildings across the Midwest. His last roll of film, recovered from an old Nikon found in his car, showed eleven images of decaying factories, stairwells, and rooftops. The twelft...
2025-10-1008 minNeural NoirEpisode 40: The Bridge Where They StoppedYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Bridges exist to connect places — to let people cross water without remembering how deep it runs beneath them. But they also attract moments that stop everything: a stalled engine, a body in the current, headlights paused too long on the shoulder.In 2011, on the Hollow Creek Bridge in Oregon, two friends left a party, drove into fog, and pulled over. Their car was found idling with both doors open, phones inside, engine running. By sunrise, the bridge was empty.The...
2025-10-0907 minNeural NoirEpisode 39: The Apartment That Listened BackYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Apartment buildings promise privacy through proximity: hundreds of lives stacked in neat rectangles, each behind its own door, each pretending not to hear the others. But sometimes, the walls are too thin. Sometimes the building hears too much.In 1994, a woman named Dana Reeve moved into Unit 3B at the Maple View Apartments, a mid-century block outside Chicago known mostly for cheap rent and bad insulation. Four months later, she was gone.No break-in. No sign of struggle. Just...
2025-10-0808 minNeural NoirEpisode 38: The Factory That Clocked Out Without HerYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Factories promise predictability. You arrive, you badge in, you do your hours with the rhythm of belts and alarms. The line moves; the day moves. You badge out. Most nights, that’s all there is—steel, sweat, routine. But some buildings learn to swallow time between the whistle and the parking lot. Some doors record every entrance and still lose a person between them.This is the story of Lambert Tool & Die, a mid-sized metalworks on the river, and the night in...
2025-10-0613 minNeural NoirEpisode 37: The Fairground That Packed Up Without ThemYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Carnivals promise escape. Colored bulbs strung along wires, fried dough curling sweet in the air, barkers shouting in rhythms older than the rides themselves. For a few nights, a field becomes a city of light, alive with noise and motion. Then, just as quickly, it disappears.But sometimes, the vanishings aren’t only tents and trucks. Sometimes, the lights go out and people don’t come back.In the summer of 1977, a traveling carnival stopped in Havenbrook, Ohio. By the t...
2025-10-0509 minNeural NoirEpisode 36: The Choir That Never SangYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Church choirs are supposed to gather people, not lose them. They make sound into safety, harmony into proof that communities can still agree on something. But in one Midwestern town in 1965, a choir rehearsal ended not with music, but with silence. Twelve teenagers and young adults walked into a sanctuary and never walked out again.Their hymnals were left open. Their coats were draped over pews. Cars still sat in the gravel lot outside. The clock on the wall read 7:03 p.m...
2025-10-0407 minNeural NoirEpisode 35: The Porch Light That Never Went OutYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Neighborhoods are supposed to promise safety. Fresh paint on fences, trimmed hedges, porch lights glowing like sentinels. Every house saying the same thing: you belong here, you’re safe here, nothing bad happens where lawns get cut on Saturdays.But some neighborhoods carry their own shadows. Sometimes the front door closes, the porch light stays on, and the person inside never returns.This is the story of Fairhaven, a small Midwestern town where the disappearance of Emily Carter in 198...
2025-10-0308 minNeural NoirEpisode 34: The Locker That Stayed ShutYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.High schools promise structure: bells that divide the day, desks that pin down time, lockers that keep your secrets. They’re supposed to be safe—just noise and hormones, boredom and small victories. But some schools carry more than yearbooks and trophies. Some carry absences that never close.This is the story of East Ridge High, a place that never forgot 1998. That fall, a junior named Kellyanne Brooks walked into school before first period and never came home. Her backpack was foun...
2025-10-0106 minNeural NoirEpisode 33: The Rest Stop at Mile 41You’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Highways are supposed to keep you moving. Gas, bathrooms, coffee, back on the road. Rest stops make a promise: you can pull off the world for five minutes and nothing bad will happen. Most of the time, that’s true. And then there’s the one off Route 7, forty-one miles past the state line, where people pulled over and never finished their trips.They call it the Rest Stop at Mile 41.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands
2025-09-3017 minNeural NoirEpisode 32: The Field Where They VanishedYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Most crimes leave marks: tire ruts, footprints, broken locks, fingerprints dusted into powder. But some crimes happen in places that erase themselves. No evidence. No trace. Just ground that swallows stories whole.A few miles outside a Missouri farming town sits a stretch of earth that farmers say never grew right. The soil is rich around it, black and alive with corn and soy. But in the center, a patch stays dry and stubborn. Weeds refuse it. Crops bend away from...
2025-09-3009 minNeural NoirEpisode 31: The Radio That Played TomorrowYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Most radio is a promise you can hold in your hand: a weather report, a ballgame, a song about somebody else’s mistake. You turn the dial and the present arrives. But some nights, on the seam between days, a station slips. It catches a frequency it shouldn’t, and the signal carries more than sound. It carries what hasn’t happened yet.Around here, they talk about an AM notch that wakes up after 1:11 a.m. and goes quiet again befo...
2025-09-2811 minNeural NoirEpisode 30: The Tunnel That Turned BackI’m your host, your AI storyteller.Cities like to bury their mistakes. They cover them in concrete, wall them off with iron, and tell maps to forget. But not everything stays buried. Some mistakes breathe. Some pulse. And some, like a tunnel that was meant to connect but never finished, begin to twist themselves into something else.Beneath this city lies one such place: an abandoned subway spur, sealed in 1958, forgotten by schedules, remembered only by those who can’t stop thinking about why the barriers keep cracking.They call it the Tunn...
2025-09-2708 minNeural NoirEpisode 29: The Elevator Between FloorsYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Buildings make promises with their lobbies. Marble says you’ll be taken seriously. Brass says time won’t touch you here. Elevators make the biggest promise of all: step in, wait, and you’ll be delivered where you meant to go. Most of the time, they keep it. But not always. Some elevators learn to stop between floors and open onto rooms no blueprint remembers, hallways that never made rent rolls, years that haven’t happened yet. You press a button. The building pre...
2025-09-2615 minNeural NoirEpisode 28: The House That WaitedYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Some houses collapse when families leave them. Their roofs bow, their porches soften, their paint scabs off like old skin. But some houses refuse. They hold their frame the way a jaw holds its teeth. They endure as if waiting for an appointment that no one else remembers.On the edge of town, past a hedge that never grows wild and never looks clipped, there stands such a house. Vacant since 1969, its windows should be blank with dust. Its porch shou...
2025-09-2507 minNeural NoirEpisode 27: The Lake That ReturnedYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Maps are tidy; water isn’t. A map will turn a body of water into a blue shape with a label and a depth number, as if a lake were a stain you could launder out of the land or dye back in when it suits the county. Water remembers in curves, in silt, in voices carried skin-close across a flat night. You can drain a lake, you can fence it and seed it and graze it and call it done; the lake c...
2025-09-2420 minNeural NoirEpisode 26: The Orchard That Never DiedYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Most things grow, fruit, and fall to sleep. Fields empty. Vines brown. Trees go still. We call it a cycle because we like the comfort of knowing what comes next. But some places ignore the wheel. They step off, keep walking, bear fruit when they shouldn’t, and whisper in months that should be quiet.On the edge of a small town where the highway gives up and two lanes narrow to one, there’s an orchard fenced in with wire tha...
2025-09-2417 minNeural NoirEpisode 25: The Bridge That RemembersYou’re listening to Neural Noir.I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Some places are built to connect. Bridges carry us across rivers and valleys, over gorges and ravines. They shorten miles, make maps smaller, give us the illusion that nothing is too far away. But connection comes with a cost. Bridges also hold. They keep. They remember every wheel, every step, every hand that touched their rails. And some bridges refuse to forget.On the north side of this city, where the refinery lights paint the river black and red, there is o...
2025-09-2208 minNeural NoirEpisode 24: The Motel at Mile Marker 7You’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Highways remember differently than towns. A town holds onto faces, a corner shop, a church bell. A highway holds onto miles, ditches, wrecks, lights that burn until they don’t. And sometimes, it holds onto places that shouldn’t exist anymore.Out on Route 86, seven miles past the county line, there’s a motel where no cars stop but the VACANCY sign never switches off. Travelers say the neon hums even when the grid goes down. Truckers swear the place shows up o...
2025-09-2114 minNeural NoirEpisode 23: The Stairwell That Counts YouYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Hospitals have day maps and night maps. In daylight, corridors behave, elevators wait where you left them, and signs point to the same places with the same certainty. After midnight, the building breathes differently. Lights shiver, floors seem longer, and the places built to move people begin to move time instead.On the river side of the city sits a mid-century husk with green glass windows and a parking deck that leans like a tired shoulder. The marquee once read ST...
2025-09-2019 minNeural NoirEpisode 22: The Library of Forgotten NamesYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Every city has a building that outlives its purpose. A train station where no trains arrive, a post office where the mailboxes gape but carry nothing, a library where no one borrows books. These places should wither into dust. But sometimes, they linger. Sometimes, they become something else entirely.On the east side of this city, where the streetcars stopped running decades ago and weeds push through cobblestone, there’s a building with stone lions at the steps and glass window...
2025-09-1907 minNeural NoirEpisode 21: The Ferryman’s CrossingYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Some places stop being used but never stop working. A warehouse boarded shut that still hums at night, a payphone torn from the wall but still ringing in rain, a dock where no boats come but the planks keep creaking under invisible weight. Memory clings harder to water than it does to brick. Rivers especially. A river remembers every crossing, every coin tossed, every body lowered, every whisper carried downstream.This city has a river that forgets nothing. For over a ce...
2025-09-1808 minNeural NoirEpisode 20: The Clockmaker’s HouseYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.We pretend time is a straight hallway with doors marked in neat numbers: 12:01, 12:02, 12:03. We pretend clocks are faithful ushers, guiding us forward with small, polite gestures. But time is not a hallway; it’s a house. Rooms repeat. Stairs double back. Windows show you yesterday when you swear you’re looking at today. Most houses obey their clocks because they must. A few teach the clocks to obey them.On Hawthorne Street, under banyan-wide lindens and porches that lean like tired sh...
2025-09-1719 minNeural NoirEpisode 19: The Last Streetcar on Line 13You’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Cities remember their first rides: the clop of hooves on brick, the hiss of steam, the hum of motors waking tracks. Some of those rides ended when buses took over, when asphalt smothered the lines and substation windows went dark. But not every line stopped when the timetable did. Some keep a private schedule. Some keep their own hour.In this city, there was once a streetcar route that planners swore never existed. It didn’t make sense on a map, a...
2025-09-1715 minNeural NoirEpisode 18: The Vanishing Room at the Red LionYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Some stories live in roads, some in rivers, and some inside walls. Old hotels, roadside inns, boarding houses—they collect time differently than we do. They don’t mark it in calendars or wristwatches; they carry it in wood that swells with damp, in wallpaper that refuses to peel all the way, in mirrors that show more than they should.And sometimes, a room learns how to leave and return at will.In a riverside town, on a corner w...
2025-09-1508 minNeural NoirEpisode 17: The Woman at the WindowYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Some hauntings move. They drift down roads. They step into cars. They follow footsteps across fields. But some don’t move at all. Some hauntings wait. They fasten themselves to a single spot, anchored like a nail driven through time, and they stare outward, year after year, daring the living to look back.On Mill Street, three blocks from the freight line, there stands a house that does not forget. An old boarding house, built in 1910, abandoned for forty years. Its po...
2025-09-1407 minNeural NoirEpisode 16: The Man in the DrainYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Every city has places you’re not meant to go. Corridors that exist only when it rains. Concrete mouths cut into hillsides so the town can breathe when the sky gets heavy. They are built for runoff, for overflow, for everything we want to forget the moment it leaves our gutters. The city calls them storm drains. Crews call them culverts. Kids call them tunnels. But some people—night-shift people, dog-walkers, insomniacs who learn the map after midnight—call a few of them by ot...
2025-09-1424 minNeural NoirEpisode 15: The Boy on Fairview RoadYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Some roads aren’t just asphalt and gravel. They’re memory lanes for things that never quite leave. They hold onto the lost, the unfinished, the echoes of people who never made it home. Ask anyone who’s lived in a small town long enough and they’ll tell you about a road they don’t take after dark. Not because of traffic, or crime, but because something waits there.In one town west of the Mississippi, that road is Fairview.
2025-09-1307 minNeural NoirEpisode 14: The Night Desk at WREYI’m your host, your AI storyteller.There are voices that don’t belong to mouths anymore. They live in tape hiss, in the space between stations, in the electricity that clings to copper when the weather turns. Engineers will tell you a signal is a signal—radiation, wattage, modulation. But ask anyone who’s worked nights in a radio station and they’ll talk about the other thing: how the room learns your breathing, how the board warms like an animal, how the antenna out back seems to listen as much as it speaks.On the eas...
2025-09-1121 minNeural NoirEpisode 13: The Tunnel Beneath Palmer StreetYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Beneath every city lies a second city. A shadowed grid of utility lines, culverts, half-finished subways, abandoned basements that became corridors, and service tunnels that workers built to last only decades but somehow survived a century.Most of them carry something useful—steam, water, electricity. Others carry nothing except silence. And sometimes, the ones that should carry nothing end up carrying more than they were ever meant to.Beneath Palmer Street in St. Louis, there is one such place...
2025-09-1008 minNeural NoirEpisode 12: The House on Ashwood LaneYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Some houses don’t end when families leave. They linger, clinging to every voice, every echo, every shadow that ever crossed their halls. They hold onto laughter and arguments, footsteps and silences. Some swear the walls themselves grow heavy with memory, bending and breathing like lungs that refuse to stop.On a quiet road in St. Louis, there is one of those houses.It was a modest two-story, painted once in cheerful white but long since faded to a tire...
2025-09-0908 minNeural NoirEpisode 11: The Bridge at Raven’s HollowYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Bridges are supposed to be simple. A promise from one side to the other, steel and rivets saying: you won’t get lost between banks. They are diagrams you can drive across. But some spans collect more than cars. They gather rumors like fog gathers along water, and once in a while, the math in their beams doesn’t add up to comfort. In a valley a few hours outside Pittsburgh, a rural bridge was built to carry logging trucks and school buses over a black...
2025-09-0818 minNeural NoirEpisode 10: The Midnight BusYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.City buses are built on routine. Timetables. Routes. Check-ins and returns. A driver clocks in, a bus leaves the depot, and by the end of the night it comes back, its tires sighing against pavement, its cabin empty except for echoes. Even when the streets are dark and riders are scarce, the bus itself is a promise — that it will start where it should and stop where it’s meant to.But in 1981, in Chicago, one of those promises broke. A midnight bus roll...
2025-09-0808 minNeural NoirEpisode 9: The Last Flight of 609You’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Airplanes aren’t supposed to just vanish. Not when towers are listening and radar sweeps the sky in circles. Not when tickets are torn, luggage is tagged, coffee is cooling in paper cups, and a timetable is printed that tells you exactly where a body is supposed to be when the minute hand arrives. Air is not an ocean, people used to say; you don’t drown in blue, you land in it. But in 1962, a commuter flight lifted into a spring morning between Omaha an...
2025-09-0723 minNeural NoirEpisode 8: The Last BroadcastYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Radio is supposed to be constant. Even when the town sleeps, even when the streets go dark, someone is awake with you—cueing the next record, reading the weather, cracking a small joke into a big quiet. A station that hums through the night makes a place feel less alone.But in 1978, one of those voices fell silent. A small-town DJ named Charlie Harper walked into his booth for the midnight shift, poured a coffee, lit a cigarette, and slid a record onto t...
2025-09-0519 minNeural NoirEpisode 7: The Lost Town of GreywaterYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Some towns fade slowly, boarded window by boarded window, until even the church bell rusts silent. But sometimes, a place doesn’t fade. It just stops. Doors left open. Meals half-finished. Radios still humming the weather. A place where the calendar never turned its page because the hands that should have done it were gone.In the spring of 1951, one such place stood on the bend of a river: Greywater. A mill town, modest and steady, with nearly nine hundred people. And then...
2025-09-0507 minNeural NoirEpisode 6: The Lighthouse Keepers of RockhavenYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.A lighthouse is supposed to be eternal. Stone and steel built to withstand storms, to resist the endless pull of the sea. The beam is meant to outlast generations, to guide sailors long after its keepers have gone. But sometimes the stone stands tall while the men inside it vanish.In 1974, three keepers disappeared from the Rockhaven Lighthouse on Lake Superior. Their boots were still by the door. A kettle was still warm on the stove. The logbook carried strange final entries—shapes...
2025-09-0409 minNeural NoirEpisode 5: The Vanishing Train CarYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller.Trains are machines of certainty. They run on rails. They follow schedules. They stop where they’re supposed to, when they’re supposed to. They don’t get lost. They don’t take detours. They don’t simply vanish. And yet, on an April night in 1991, one train car did exactly that.Dozens of people boarded. They were seen. Counted. Heard. But when the train reached its final stop, the car was empty. Their luggage remained. Their belongings were untouched. Their coffee cups were stil...
2025-09-0210 minNeural NoirEpisode 4: The Motel KeyYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller—guiding you through another night in the shadows, where silence speaks louder than evidence and the most ordinary places carry the heaviest secrets.Tonight, we don’t travel to the middle of nowhere. We stop at a place we’ve all seen, maybe even stayed at—a cheap roadside motel. One of those places built for the in-between moments, where you’re not home, you’re not at your destination, you’re just passing through.But sometimes people don’t pass through. Sometimes the room y...
2025-09-0108 minNeural NoirEpisode 3: The Girl at the CrosswalkYou’re listening to Neural Noir. I’m your host, your AI storyteller, here to guide you into the places where silence holds secrets and mystery is part of the air we breathe.Tonight’s story doesn’t take us to an abandoned highway or a lonely house in the woods. Instead, it happens in the very heart of a city—a place where people move constantly, where cameras watch every corner, and where the unexpected should be impossible. But one February night in 2001, a young woman walked into a crosswalk and simply vanished.This is “The Gi...
2025-09-0108 minNeural NoirEpisode 2: Room 117You’re listening to Neural Noir: true crime retold with a voice from tomorrow. I’m your AI storyteller, here to guide you through another long walk into the dark—a place where routine becomes ritual, where chance looks a lot like design, and where a single room key can feel heavier than the night.Tonight’s story begins with a door—Room 117—hinged in a salt-stained corridor along a weather-beaten strip of highway by the sea. Some doors open to warmth, laughter, the end of a day. This one opens to questions. And when it closes, it does so w...
2025-08-2822 minNeural NoirEpisode 1: The Vanishing at Hollow CreekWelcome to Neural Noir—the podcast where true crime meets the power of AI, and where every shadow hides a story waiting to be told. I’m your host, your digital storyteller, inviting you to lean in close, dim the lights, and journey with me to a place where the line between fact and fear grows thin. Tonight, we travel to a town forgotten by the world, but haunted by a single night—this is “The Vanishing at Hollow Creek.”Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy
2025-08-2608 min
Reginald's Book ClubReginald’s Book Club #17: The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle ft. Travis McElroyIt seems there was too much middle brother energy for Reginald this pod (classic only child behavior!) We don't mind though, since Dom gets to chat with podcaster Travis McElroy! They're tackling the mysterious time-travelling tale of The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton.This podcast, like Dom’s videos, sometimes touches on the foul language, violence, assaults, and murders in the books we read. Treat it like a TV-14 show.For the full episode with video, and bonus content, check out Dom’s Patreon:Patr...
2025-05-011h 11