The Well at the Edge of Trapp's Farm

I drove out to Trapp's Farm in early March, when the frost was just starting to crack and the ground was soft. The farmer's wife had been hearing something in the well at night—not water, not wind. I sat with her in the kitchen after dark, watching the back door, and she told me about the girl who drowned there in '62. By midnight, the sound had changed. It had a pattern. She made me promise not to look, and I didn't. But I heard it count. This is a story about the weight of a promise, and the sound of something learning to speak. No jump scares, no gore—just the cold and the waiting and the thing that waits back. #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SoloNarration #GameTrail #TrappsFarm #Well #Promise #Drowning #SixtyTwo #March #Frost #Sound #Pattern #Counting #LucyTrapp #Kitchen #Dark #IntimateHorror Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo