Category Archives: Radio Show

Radio Show Review! (Say that three times fast…)

So, for this post I’ll take a moment to discuss a radio show that wasn’t my own! Pretty straight-forward, right? Much like the oh-so wonderful production of the Edward Creepy Show! Right off the bat, the showrunners gave us a fright and I can honestly say that I never knew what was right around the corner. I didn’t think there were any glaring problems with it, either. Much like with my group’s show, there were moments that felt almost a little too quiet, but I could still hear it with my laptop’s volume cranked. It seemed to be well put together and I appreciated knowing that the group worked together ahead of time to create a script and then record individually– smart move!

I was particularly impressed by the voice modulation and the music that was used. It gave it a very genuine radioshow horror feel, which was definitely a good choice.

Great work!

Radio Show Progress, part 2 (there isn’t a part one?!)

Hello again, everyone. As you may or may not have noticed, I’ve been out of commission for a little while! But fear not, I’m back and in full force. Last week me and my faithful group members (Nora, Aaron, and Kathi) worked hard on organizing everything for our group project. Our first meeting was relatively brief, but engaging. It allowed us to better gauge what to expect from one another and how to best go forward with our project.

Enter week two and we’re getting everything done for our radio show (in good time, I might add). We’d already created outlines as planned (through a google doc sheet) and recorded on our own, so we’d lain the groundwork pretty firmly. All that was left was to fill in the gaps with the meat and potatoes of our show and to edit everything together seamlessly. Everything else up that point got the editing treatment a la Nora and Aaron had the excellent idea to make an interesting addition to one of our preexisting bumpers.

We used the recording studio of the ITCC and freshly recorded a few things (a host/caller interaction featuring Aaron and myself, for example). In total, we spent nearly 6 hours hard at work on this labor of love.¬† We met again on Thursday to put the final nails in the coffin, so to speak, and finish this project once and for all. I won’t give away any spoilers just yet, so no worries! Everything will be fresh and surprising when the time comes to hear our show. I can easily say that I’m proud of our hard work.


Victor¬†Barethean. A man of indeterminate age (though he looks to be mid-30’s). Short, dark hair and a thick mustache. No one’s sure what his eye color is, but some reports suggest that he suffers from heterochromia: one eye is said to be green and the other… changes. At times it will appear blue-ish gray. Other times, reddish-yellow. He fancies himself a classy individual but believes in personal comfort above all. When he’s telling his stories he always wears old Hawaiian shirts with khaki suspenders and boat shoes.

As with all horror hosts, he seemingly takes undue interest in the misery of others but will just as quickly pretend that it’s genuine concern and sadness. No one’s entirely sure how it is that he came to tell these stories, and anyone’s that ever asked has been given a different answer. Some say he started back in the 80’s as a DJ for some pop radio that eventually fell on hard times (which would make his age even more questionable). Others say he’s only been in business for a couple of years and has been researching grisly tales to tell for years. He stockpiles newspaper clippings in his booth and replaces them every few months, taking his favorites down and placing them into picture frames that adorn the room.

No matter what his story is, there is one indisputable factL He’s here, he’s telling these stories, and it doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere.

Fasten your socks, kids…

In Late November, a night most would have called innocuous unfortunately became something much worse. A young man, Thomas Rainier, from a small town in southern Virginia, had finished another shift at his mundane job. Accounting. He’d never had a passion for it but, as a recent college graduate, sought to pay off his loans as soon as possible. An “average joe,” he’d call himself, Thomas viewed most things as “uneventful.” He was 5’10”, wore relaxed fit clothing that was neither too fitting nor too loose, and had mussy, dark hair that he kept swept to one side at all times. To the ordinary on-looker, there wasn’t a single remarkable thing about Thomas. But upon closer inspection, one would be very, very surprised.

As he parked his car into his driveway as uneventfully as ever, Thomas stopped once he’d turned the car off. It was always a bit small for him but, even then, it felt more cramped. Condensation was beginning to form on the windows and he wrote it off as humidity. He hadn’t gone through four years at college without learning to question a few things here and there but in the back of his mind, he already knew what was happening. He fumbled around for his keys and eventually opened the garage door. Stepping through the kitchen, Thomas paused. There was the same humidity but this time, it felt more concentrated. There was a puddle lying on his counter next to the coffee maker just waiting to cause an accident. Rushing to clean up the mess, he reached out for it and felt a shock– some of the water had made it towards the power cord. It burned a small circle onto the palm of his right hand. The smell of searing skin nauseated him. A little shaken, but mostly fine, Thomas headed toward his bathroom’s medicine cabinet to rub a little ointment on the wound on his hand. The lights flickered on and off and there was a creaking sound from the un-oiled hinges of the cabinet’s mirror. Closing the window, Thomas’ burn continued to hurt him but he was more concerned with what now faced him.


It was the visage of a woman whose face was somewhat deteriorated. He knew this face, or what was left of it, well. This spirit had been haunting him for the past few years, six to be precise. Immediately after his father’s death, he’d inherited his “curse.” All the while the spirit stared on at Thomas, a faint screaming could be heard. It was unnerving and sent a chill down his spine in waves. Feeling a numbness wash over him, he fought through it and made his way to the couch. Thomas hoped that watching some TV would calm him down. Reaching for the remote, he felt the woman’s presence again as she seemed to reach through him. Thomas knew that the woman was the spurned lover of his great-grandfather and an evil woman. She swore vengeance upon him and his household when she was left with a child and no support. Years after Thomas’ great-grandfathered denounced her publicly, she began to practice outright witchcraft in an attempt to wreak havoc upon his life, even offering her newborn son as sacrifice to further her goals. Though she’d never acted out against the Rainier men, they always knew she was there– watching, waiting… and for some reason, she seemed to have had enough. Thomas lived a somewhat solitary life and felt no especial happiness throughout any part of it. He never wished to die but he was indifferent to the idea of it. He felt that he could never truly object to something he would never feel. And as he sat, shivering in his chair, the woman’s form– fading into and out of ethereal space– drew closer. Perhaps she felt as though his misery wasn’t yet sufficient, that he hadn’t felt enough pain. She reached her hand into him and paused, a blank stare seemingly filling the room. In what felt like seconds, there was a surge of blood that sprang from Thomas’ chest, yet there was no wound. Whether or not it was his, none could tell. He choked for a while, fading into unconsciousness and feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest and with one or two final breaths, he collapsed. The woman’s corpse made its way back into the bathroom and stood vigil inside the mirror, seemingly glad that her job had been done.