Latest / Journey to the Fringe / Jingle Bells

Transcript

Jingle Bells · Journey to the Fringe

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From the unexplained to the mundane, come join
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us on a Journey to the Fringe. Hello and welcome
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to Journey to the Fringe, where the Fringe festivities
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come to bear fruit. We are your podcast hosts,
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Taylor and Chelsea, and today I need to set a
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scene for you. It's Christmas Eve, fireplaces
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crackle, and somewhere in the distance you hear
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it. That unmistakable sound. Bells. Maybe it's
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Santa's sleigh gliding across the sky, or maybe
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it's something older, stranger. Tonight, we're
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following the sound of bells down a darker path,
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because in the world of fringe folklore, bells
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don't just signal joy. They warn, they lure,
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they haunt. Oh boy. From the mournful toll of
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the bell buzzard to the mimicry of swamp dwelling
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bell bottoms, the ghostly chimes of phantom churches
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and fairy crossings, these are - These are the
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creatures that ring in the season with something
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far more chilling than cheer. So pour yourself
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some hot cocoa, hang your stockings with care,
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and maybe keep one ear open because not every
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bell you hear this Christmas is jingling for
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joy. Oh man. We're starting our dark descent
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not on a snowy roof but deep in the wetlands
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because not all bells are carried on the wind.
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Some ring from the water to draw you in. Our
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first cryptid is a creature that thrives on deception,
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a swamp dwellers whose chimes are the last sound
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its victims ever hear. Let's wade into the mire
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and talk about bell bottoms. grotesque semi -aquatic
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cryptids believed to dwell in bogs, lake shallows,
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and abandoned irrigation trenches. Their names
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come from the distinctive bell -shaped bodies
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which rise from the water like submerged traps.
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According to Erbellum's cryptid compendium, they
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are part predator, part decoy creature that mimic
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the sounds of whimpering prey or emit bell -like
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charms to lure the curious to the water's end.
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These creatures are said to have faces that shift
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or resemble the person's fear. or desires, making
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them especially dangerous to the lonely or emotionally
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vulnerable. Their presence is often marked by
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muddy footprints, trembling dogs, or unexplained
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laughter echoing from beneath the surface. They
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are said to delight in secrets, especially those
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spoken aloud near water. Some tales claim that
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bell -bottoms can store voices and replay them
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to confuse and lure victims. Weirdly enough,
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there's not a lot of writing about bell -bottoms.
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The Erbellum's cryptic convenium has pretty much
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everything. And he goes into great detail about
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the weaknesses and warts. So at least this one,
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you can ward off. Okay, good. But it's a pretty
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terrifying creature, I would say. I didn't even
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think that I shouldn't be telling my secrets
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near water. I hate to know how many secrets have
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been told there. Where else seems safer than
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near the water to tell your secrets. It's true.
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It seemed like the safest place to meet, so...
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That's where I was going. And I don't think there's
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anything creepier than a creature that knows
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and presents as all your worst fears. That's
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probably why he's a water monster, because I
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hate water. I mean, to you, yes. I guess that
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makes sense. Yeah. But Chelsea, don't worry.
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It seems fairly straightforward to ward off.
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All you need is a couple things. One of them
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can be dust of mustard. The primary weakness,
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sprinkling mustard powder near the water's edge
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is said to keep them at bay. What is that? Just
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mustard powder. Oh, like the spice? Yeah. Okay,
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I'm gonna go pack that up right after this episode.
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If that doesn't work, apparently iron buckets,
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the sound of iron clanging disrupts their mimicry.
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Also, if you have nothing on you, direct eye
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contact is said to make them recoil from being
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seen clearly. Okay. And sunlight on reeds. Hopefully
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there's some reeds around. They avoid areas where
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sunlight reflects off water. What a random list
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of things. Yeah. Like how it goes from like you're
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not gonna have this around you to oh, yeah, just
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look at Sometimes direct eye contact is the hardest
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thing to do though, especially if they're like
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weird looking. Yeah, but to be fair, they probably
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think you're weird looking too. It's true. It
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just seems to be like socially awkward. So maybe
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they won't be able to look me in the eye. I don't
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know. Yeah. It seems like the hardest one. And
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it's funny because the details suggest a creature
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that thrives on deception and darkness, but fears
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clarity and confrontation. And that's, we're
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going from the least information to the most
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information in these stories. So that one, like
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I said, there was like one story on it. The next
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one too, we'll probably... do an episode on them
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on their own at a later point, but I had to include
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them just because bells are something that's
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associated with them. We're moving on from the
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Muddenmire from a bell that lures you into physical
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danger to something far more enchanting yet equally
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mysterious. In the British Isles, a bell can
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signal a completely different kind of presence.
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Instead of grotesque swamp dwellers, we're talking
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about the delicate spectral chimes that signal
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the passing of a fairy procession or the opening
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of a door to the other world. Now we're stepping
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from the swamp into the twilight and air to talk
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about fairies. In folklore, across the British
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Isles and beyond, the delicate chimes of bells
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have long been entwined with the presence of
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fairies. These spectral sounds, soft, melodic,
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and often heard without a visible source, are
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said to signal the passing of a fairy procession
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or the opening of a portal to the Otherworld.
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Known as fairy bells, these ethereal tones might
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drift through the twilight air, luring wanderers
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towards enchanted glades or fairy wreaths. In
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some tales, the bells are instruments of enchantment.
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drawn the curious into a trance or marking the
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movements when time slips sideways. The bells
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also serve as a paradox in fairy lore. While
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they can't summon or signal the faith, they're
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equally known as wards against them. In Celtic
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and Scandinavian tradition, the ringing of church
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bells were believed to drive away fairies, trolls,
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and other spirits. their sacred resonance disrupting
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the magic of the unseen. This duality, Bell's
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as both invitation and banishment reflect the
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complex, often contradictory nature of fairy
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folklore. Even today, echoes of this belief persist
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in modern pagan and druidic rites. Bells are
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sometimes wrung during solstice ceremonies to
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call fairies to the circles or to mark transitions
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between worlds. In the natural world, Certain
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woodland flowers, like the bell -shaped campanula
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or dysporum, are known as fairy bells, believed
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to be used by fairies as hats, cups, or musical
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tools. Whether heard in the hush of a forest
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or imagined in the shimmer of moonlight, the
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sound of bells remains a potent symbol of the
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liminal, the magical, and the unseen. So the
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next time you hear a faint chime with no clear
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source, ask yourself, is it the wind or is it
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something older, stranger, and far more enchanting?
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We move now from the delicate spectral triumphs
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of the British Isles to a much heavier more grounded
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kind of bell and across the ocean in the southern
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United States where there's no enchantment or
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otherworldly portal signaled by the sound. Here
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the bell is a simple mournful toll and it is
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an absolute undeniable harbinger of death. were
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leaving the twilight era's fairy crossings and
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stepping into the shadows of a truly unsettling
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American legend, the belled buzzard. The belled
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buzzard is one of the most haunting and peculiar
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figures in American folklore, particularly rooted
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in the southern United States during the 19th
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and 20th century. Described as a turkey vulture
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or buzzard with a bell inexplicably tied around
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its neck, this creature was more than just a
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curiosity, it was widely regarded as a harbinger
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of doom. The eerie tolling of its bell, often
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heard before the bird was even seen, was believed
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to signal an impending disaster. Communities
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across Tennessee, Kentucky, Virginia, and beyond
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reported sightings of the Bell of Buzzards as
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early as the 1850s, with the legend gaining traction
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during times of crisis. One of the most chilling
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associations came in 1878 when the bird was reportedly
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seen at Brownsville, Tennessee during a devastating
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yellow fever epidemic. By the 1880s and 90s,
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the belled buzzard had become a media sensation.
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Small town newspapers across the South and Appalachia
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chronicled its appearances, often linking them
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to local tragedies like floods, fires, or outbreaks
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of disease. In 1885, a sighting in Wheeling,
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West Virginia was followed by a deadly flood,
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further cementing the bird's reputation as a
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supernatural omen. Some articles speculated that
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pranksters had tied bells to buzzards for sport.
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But others treated the creature as a singular,
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possibly immortal entity. The legend even reached
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national audiences when Irvin S. Cobb published
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the story of the belt buzzer in the Saturday
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Evening Post in 1912. The 20th century brought
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more sightings, including a 1930s report in the
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Troy Messenger of Alabama, where a witness recounted,
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quote, I had often heard of such things, but
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this was the first time I had ever seen a belt
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buzzer, end quote. In 1930, the Hagerstown Daily
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Mail in Maryland claimed the, quote, original
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belt buzzer. buzzer, end quote, have been captured
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on a canal tilt path, and another sighting was
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reported nearby Wood Point the following year.
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These articles often featured vivid poetic language
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with one describing the bird's return as, quote,
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its mournful toll echoing across the valley,
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end quote. And Chelsea, here's just a smattering
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of articles from way back in the day about it.
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In the 1800s, there were dozens of articles across
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Tennessee, Virginia, West Virginia, Delaware,
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Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina,
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where there They're talking about the birds tolling
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bell, said to precede fires, floods, or outbreaks.
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In Wheeling, West Virginia in 1885, a local newspaper
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described the buzzard flying overhead before
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a deadly flood reinforcing its ominous reputation.
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As I said earlier, the Troy messenger in Alabama
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reported a belled buzzard flying low over farms
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in 1913, with witnesses describing it as, quote,
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a small cast bell tied to its neck, end quote.
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Farmers wondered who had belled the buzzer when
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and where. In Brownsville, Tennessee, in 1878,
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during a yellow fever epidemic, newspapers connected
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the belled buzzard to the calamities, cementing
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its role as a harbinger of doom. Quote, the belled
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buzzard has been seen again and death walks close
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behind. End quote. This chilling line connected
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the bird directly to devastating epidemics. From
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the 1912 Irving S. Cobb story, he says, quote,
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the belled buzzard is no myth. He's a feathered
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fact and his tolling bell is the funeral knell
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of the South. End quote. in Woodpoint, Maryland,
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which I believe we mentioned earlier, quote,
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the Bell Buzzard has returned its mournful toll,
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echoing across the valley, end quote, and that's
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in February of 1931. Now, sightings of the Bell
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Buzzard faded dramatically after the early 20th
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century, and by the 1940s, a legend had largely
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disappeared from newspapers and public consciousness.
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Several Factors contributed to this decline.
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In the 19th century, small town newspapers often
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blended fact and folklore, publishing sensational
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stories to entertain an alarm. As journalism
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professionalized in the 20th century, editors
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became less likely to print cryptic sightings
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without art evidence and the bell buzzered once
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a media darling lost his platform. The buzzard
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itself, a symbol of death and decay, lost its
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folklore potency as newer cryptids and omens
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emerged. Creatures like Mothman, Jersey Devil,
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and Bigfoot captured public imagination with
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more dramatic traits. That's true. The bell -buzzard,
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quiet tolling bell, couldn't compete with the
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glowing eyes and monstrous footprints. The bell
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-buzzard was deeply tied to oral storytelling
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in southern and Appalachian communities. As rural
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populations shifted and oral traditions waned,
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the legend faded. Without regular retelling,
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it became a historical curiosity rather than
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a living myth. Some sightings were debunked as
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pranks, too, with farmers or boys tying bells
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to buzzards for fun. And once this explanation
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gained traction, the mystery really lost its
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edge. of unknown, belt buzzards became less compelling
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and died off. So there's not much talk about
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it after the 1940s. That is a weird one. I don't
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know what I think about that. It is. And though
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sightings have ceased, the belt buzzard survives
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in folklore archives, regional ghost story collections,
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and occasional cryptid forums. It remains a fascinating
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case study in how a simple anomaly, a bell on
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a bird, can evolve into a widespread omen of
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death. His story also offered insight into the
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role of media in shaping his insane encrypted
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legend. We move now from the unsettling grounded
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toll of the belled buzzard, a bell that foreshadowed
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death on land, to a sound that is both lamented
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and a perpetual warning ringing from the depths.
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We're leaving the dry folklore of the American
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South for the coasts of Europe, where bells toll
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not from a bird, but... from entire lost civilizations.
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What? These are the sounds of divine judgment
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and vanished kingdoms. What? Like what kingdoms?
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Oh man, Chelsea, I had no idea that there are
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so many lost cities off the northwest coast of
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Europe. There is? See, I was thinking where you're
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going with this was maybe like a ghost ship,
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like with a foghorn or something. Oh, maybe.
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But no, it's a lost civilization. Across Europe
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and North America, legends about church bells.
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that continue to ring from beneath the earth
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or water. In France, the sunken city of Ys is
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said to toll its bell from beneath the waves
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during storms. In England and Wales, tales speak
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of submerged villages as well, whose bells can
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still be heard on quiet nights in May, a time
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associated with thin rounderies between the world.
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These bells are often tied to moral warnings,
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towns that sank due to sin or pride, with the
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bells serving as eternal reminders of divine
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judgment. So Chelsea, I'm going to tell you now
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about the lost city of Ys. So Ys, spelled Y -S,
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of course, is said to have been a magnificent
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city built below sea level on the coast of Brittany,
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protected by a massive dike with gates that opened
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at low tide to allow ships into bustling ports.
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It was ruled by King Gradlin, a pious and noble
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monarch, and his daughter Princess Dehut, whose
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wild and hedonistic ways ultimately led to the
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city's downfall. There are multiple versions
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of the legend, but most agree on these core elements.
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Dahut, often portrayed as a sorceress or seductress,
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hosted lavish parties and took lovers nightly.
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One night, she stole her father's key to the
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dyke gates and either through drunken revelry
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or deliberate sabotage, opened the gates during
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high tide, allowing the Atlantic Ocean to flood
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the city. As the waters rose, St. Winowola I
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like all of those versions. I can't choose. Now,
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one of the most haunting elements of the legend
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is the claim that the bells of ease still toll
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beneath the waves, especially during storms or
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at twilight. Locals in the Bay de Dornanez or
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Dornene, I don't know, it's French, where Ys
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is said to lie have reported hearing phantom
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chimes echoing from the depths. These spectral
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sounds are interpreted as either a warning or
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a lament, a reminder of the city's hubris and
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loss. The city of Ys is widely regarded as a
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mythical place and not a historical or archaeological
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reality, and while it holds a powerful place
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in Breton folklore, there is no concrete evidence
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that Ys ever physically existed beneath the Bay
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of Dornene or anywhere else along the coast of
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Brittany. So just keep that in mind. The story
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of Ys is rich in Christian symbolism and moral
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themes, pride, sin, divine punishment, which
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suggests it's functioned as a cautionary tale
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rather than a historical account. And the character
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of Princess Dahut, often blamed for the city's
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destruction, embodies the archetype of the dangerous
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Temptress, a common figure in medieval Christian
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storytelling. Likely not a true story, but there's
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still every now and then a rumor of bells ringing
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off the coast of France for the lost city of...
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Still creepy. And hey, the British Channel, or
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what do you call that? Is it the French or the
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British Channel between them? I don't know. The
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channel between the UK and France. It's not the
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only lost city in the channel between France
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and the UK. There is also the city of Lyonais.
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I believe it's said that way. It's L -Y -O -N
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-E -S -S -E. So the lost city of Lyonais... was
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believed to stretch from the lands ending Cornwall
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to the Isle of Sili, occupying fertile plains
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and coastal towns. According to legend, it boasted
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over 140 churches, flourishing villages and orchards,
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a towering cathedral, possibly built atop what
16:23
is now the Seven Stones Reef. This reef, located
16:26
about 18 miles west of Land's End, is still marked
16:29
on nautical charts and considered treacherous.
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Some say it's the last remnants of the drowned
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kingdom. Now, Leonas is most famously known as
16:37
the home of Sir Tristan, one of the Knights of
16:39
the Round Table, and central figures in the tragic
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romance of Tristan and Izyold. I don't know how
16:44
to say that either, geez. I didn't think these
16:46
names would be so hard. In some of the versions
16:49
of the Thurian Cycle, Leones is portrayed as
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a noble and powerful kingdom deeply tied to the
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fate of Camelot. The legend says Leones was swallowed
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by the sea in a single night with no survivors
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except one man, Trevillion, who escaped on horseback
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and gave rise to the Cornish Trevillion family.
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The cause of the flood varies. Some say divine
17:08
punishment for sin or pride, a natural disaster
17:11
like a massive tidal wave, or a magical collapse
17:14
tied to the fall of Camelot. Local fishermen
17:17
have long claimed to hear phantom church bells
17:19
ringing beneath the waves during storms. Some
17:21
maps even mark reefs with names like city and
17:24
court, hinting at submerged structures. And the
17:27
third one are, of course, Pantergwyllodd. I can't
17:30
say it because this is a Welsh Atlantis. Cantergwelod
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is a legendary sunken kingdom said to also lie
17:38
beneath this area in the Cardigan Bay off the
17:40
west coast of Wales. According to the myth, it
17:43
was once a fertile lowland protected by seawalls
17:45
and sluice gates. The kingdom's downfall came
17:48
when Sethanen, a drunken gatekeeper, failed in
17:51
his duty allowing the sea to flood the land and
17:54
drown the cities. One of the most enduring elements
17:56
of the legend is the haunting sound of bells.
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Welsh folklore holds that on quiet nights or
18:02
during storms, the bells of Cantigwold churches
18:04
can still be heard ringing from beneath the waves.
18:07
These ghostly chimes are said to echo across
18:09
the bay, a mournful reminder of the kingdom's
18:12
tragic fate. There's even a traditional Welsh
18:15
poem that captures its haunting imagery. Beneath
18:17
the sea and its waves are many cities fair that
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used to listen to bells ringing at coming night.
18:23
The bells of Cantigwald vanish beneath the water.
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I find it really interesting how many sunken
18:29
cities with haunted bells are in this area, when
18:33
this is something I really never heard of before.
18:36
That's a fair point. And they all seem to be
18:38
like Atlantis -esque. Like they were pretty prominent
18:41
places and then just sunk. Well, it's funny that
18:43
they would place those kind of important cities
18:45
below sea level. Yeah, but they kept doing it.
18:48
Yep. But of course, undersea church bells aren't
18:53
the only type of phantom church bells. On a cold
18:57
October morning in the late 1800s, the quiet
18:59
streets of Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island,
19:02
were startled awake by the unexpected tolling
19:04
of the church bell at the Kirk of St. James,
19:06
a historic Presbyterian church built in 1878.
19:09
The bell rang out clearly and deliberately. Yet
19:12
when townspeople arrived to investigate, they
19:14
found the church locked and empty. No one had
19:16
been scheduled to ring the bell and no one was
19:18
inside. Witnesses claimed to have seen four ghostly
19:21
women in the bell tower, their forms faint and
19:24
shimmering. in the early morning light. The figures
19:26
were described as solemn, their presence eerie,
19:29
but not malevolent. The townspeople were shaken,
19:31
unsure what to make of the strange occurrence.
19:33
Later that same day, news arrived that a ship
19:35
had gone down in the Northumberland Strait between
19:38
Charlottetown and Pictou, Nova Scotia. Tragically,
19:42
four women perished in the wreck, the same number
19:44
as the spectral bell ringers seen that morning.
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The coincidence was too eerie to ignore, and
19:49
the story quickly took root in local legend.
19:51
Over the years the tale of the phantom bell ringers
19:54
has been retold as a supernatural omen, a ghostly
19:57
warning of a pending tragedy. Some believe the
19:59
spirits were trying to alert the town to the
20:02
disaster at sea. Others interpret the event as
20:04
a moment where the veil between worlds thinned
20:07
allowing the dead to reach out in one final act
20:09
of communion. Yeah, I see that one. The Kirk
20:12
of St. James remains a function in church today
20:14
and while the bell no longer rings on its own,
20:17
the legend lives on. Visitors and locals alike
20:19
still speak of the fateful morning and some claim
20:22
that on quiet autumn days, if you listen closely,
20:24
you might still hear the fateful toll of the
20:26
bell and wonder who or what is ringing it. And
20:29
we move now from the spectral tolling of ancient
20:32
sunken kingdoms to a sound that is chillingly
20:35
modern, deeply personal, and terrifyingly real.
20:37
Sometimes the bell you hear isn't an echo of
20:40
a tragic past or a supernatural warning from
20:43
the elements. It's a deliberate sound made by
20:45
a figure lurking in the shadows. We aim the jury
20:47
with an account that came straight from the internet.
20:50
A true horror story that brings malevolent powers
20:54
of the bell from folklore right into the deep
20:56
dark woods of a young woman's summer. This is
21:00
a story from Reddit. It's from the subreddit
21:03
Let's Not Meet, which apparently is supposed
21:05
to be your true horror stories. So I can't confirm
21:08
this story for real. It was posted five years
21:12
ago. Ding! Wilhame Baudelaire, titled, Man in
21:18
Forest Kills Animals and Chases After Me While
21:20
Ringing Bells in the Dark. And this is not the
21:27
whole telling of the story. I did use an AI to
21:29
shorten it because it was incredibly long, but
21:32
we get the gist of it still. While home from
21:34
university for the summer, I returned to a secluded
21:37
forest trail I'd known since childhood. Dense
21:40
woods, winding streams, and a man -made lake
21:42
surrounded by silence. On my first solo walk,
21:45
I reached a stream and knelt to run my hands
21:47
through the water, when I heard it. A bell ringing
21:49
from somewhere to the north. It wasn't a light
21:51
jingle like a dog collar. It was heavy, deliberate,
21:54
and rang with a strange urgency. I listen curious.
21:57
Sorry, go ahead. No, I'm just trying to picture
22:00
the bell. I was picturing a gong at first. Yeah,
22:02
I feel like it's a town crier one. Yeah, I think
22:04
you're right. At first I was going with a gong,
22:07
but I don't think that's the right feel for the
22:09
story. I think it's a town crier bell. Yeah,
22:11
okay. I listened curious and began walking towards
22:15
the sound. It moved as I moved, always just out
22:18
of reach until it stopped abruptly after five
22:20
minutes. I tried to rationalize it, maybe a lost
22:22
hunting dog, maybe something caught in a tin,
22:24
but nothing made sense. Then I found the badger.
22:27
It was freshly dead, decapitated with precision,
22:30
the wound crawling with maggots, but not yet
22:32
fully decomposed. It had clearly been killed
22:35
with a knife. The bell had followed the stream
22:38
and so had I. The badger had been placed or killed
22:41
along the same path. I felt a chill but pushed
22:44
the thought aside and made my way home. A week
22:47
later I went back. It was raining heavily and
22:49
I left around 6pm, planning to return before
22:52
dark. I reached the river and then turned back
22:54
as the light began to fade. The forest was loud
22:57
with rain, and I was moving quickly, head down,
23:00
when I collided with something hanging from a
23:01
tree. It was the badger. But now its head had
23:04
been tied grotesquely to its front paws. The
23:06
whole thing strung up like a sick ornament. It
23:09
was dripping green fluid, and I was soaked in
23:11
it. I gay, confused by the mix of rain and rot.
23:14
And then it hit me. Someone had done this after
23:16
I passed by earlier. Someone had been watching
23:19
me. And then the bell rang again. This time it
23:21
was louder, more persistent, echoing through
23:23
the trees. I called my dad in a panic. told him
23:25
to meet me at the bend in the path, the closest
23:28
point to where I was. I started running, but
23:30
the bell kept ringing, on and off, surrounding
23:32
me. Every sound was muffled by the rain, and
23:35
I felt like I was moving through a dream. I couldn't
23:37
breathe properly. I couldn't think. I was crying,
23:40
stumbling, coughing, trying to stay upright as
23:42
I ran. My mom stayed on the phone, shouting that
23:44
they were close. I kept hearing things, branches
23:47
snapping, faint movements, but I couldn't tell
23:49
what was real. Then I heard it, clear footsteps
23:51
behind me and the bell louder than ever. I turned
23:54
and saw him, a tall figure at the edge of the
23:56
clearing, slowly creeping towards me, ringing
23:58
a bell in front of his chest. He was staring
24:00
straight at me. I ran harder than I ever have
24:03
in my life, screaming that I was on the phone
24:05
with the police and that my dad was nearby. I
24:07
didn't dare look back again. I was soaked, breathless
24:09
and terrified. My phone felt like my only lifeline.
24:12
I dropped my bag without realizing. The bell
24:14
kept ringing and I could feel it in my bones.
24:16
Then I heard my dad's voice. He was close, calling
24:19
my name. I ran towards him and practically collapsed
24:21
into his arms and he heard the bell too. My mom's
24:23
still on the phone. I heard it through the speaker.
24:25
We didn't wait around. We got in the car and
24:27
left. To this day, I do not know who that man
24:30
was, what he wanted, or if he's still out there
24:32
in these woods. But I know what I heard. The
24:34
bell wasn't just a sound. It was a warning, a
24:36
lure, a present. And I've never gone back. And
24:39
that's the end of that one. Interesting. Interesting
24:42
choice. At one point I was picturing that it
24:45
was just a bell that was killing like the badger.
24:49
Just turning it up. Oh, okay. Yeah. But then,
24:51
of course, it was a man just ringing a bell.
24:54
Holding it, of course. To be fair, they describe
24:59
the person as a bell, like a person holding a
25:02
bell, but we don't get a good description, so
25:03
it's hard to say whether or not it could have
25:08
been a shadow person. It could have been a shadow
25:11
person full of bells shaped in a person shape.
25:15
Yeah. Just saying. So this holiday season, as
25:19
sleigh bells jingle and carols echo through frosted
25:22
streets, remember not every bell is a symbol
25:24
of joy, some toll from beneath the sea, some
25:27
from sunken kingdoms like... Some ring from phantom
25:31
towers, warning a tragedy yet to come. Some chime
25:33
from the shadows of the forest, held by hands
25:35
that should not exist. Whether it's the bell
25:38
buzzers circling overhead, the swamp -born mimicry
25:40
of the bell bottoms, or a lone figure in the
25:42
woods ringing a bell just for you, these stories
25:45
remind us that sound can be more than festive,
25:47
it can be a lure, a warning, a presence. Thanks
25:50
for joining us in this winter's walk through
25:52
the uncanny, and if you hear a bell tonight,
25:55
maybe it's Santa, maybe it's something else entirely.
25:58
I have been Taylor, here with Chelsea. We are
26:01
Journey to the Fringe. Thank you all for listening.
26:02
We'll see you next week. And that's a good Christmas
26:05
lesson. Goodbye. Thank you for listening to Journey
26:10
to the Fringe. If you have liked what you have
26:13
listened to, please like, share, subscribe, or
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26:41
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26:45
For now, I'll see you in the next episode.