Hosted by Unknown Host · 🇺🇸 US · EN
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In a building that should only have eleven floors, there is a button for twelve. Empty Floor Twelve is an anthology horror podcast where each episode is a self-contained story set in the same decaying Art Deco elevator — a machine that sometimes opens onto places that don't exist. Luna narrates tales of passengers who pressed the wrong button and found themselves in a floor of endless corridors, a floor where the walls breathe, or a floor that remembers every person who ever rode the elevator. The stories are slow and atmospheric, like the hum of old cables and the smell of brass polish. Sometimes the doors open on a quiet suburb where everyone's face is the same; sometimes they open on a room that contains only a telephone that rings with your own voice. What unifies these stories is the elevator itself — a liminal space that doesn't just move between floors, but between realities. Luna's voice is the only constant as passengers step out and never return. Each episode is a complete descent into the unknown. The button for twelve is always lit.
Unknown Host hosts Empty Floor Twelve — Fexingo Horror.
Christmas Eve, 1992. Luna steps off on Floor Twelve and finds herself in a gravel lot filled with unsold evergreens, strung with dead lights. A young woman in a red coat is arranging trees by the light of a kerosene lamp
In a small town in West Texas, Luna steps off an elevator into a funeral home that shouldn't exist—and finds a woman in a pale blue dress who has been waiting for her daughter to arrive for thirty years. The air smells o
It's late October, 1995. Luna is driving through the Adirondacks when the fog forces her to pull into a motel called the Pine Hollow, a faded two-story place with a neon vacancy sign that flickers like a warning. The man
Luna steps off the elevator on floor twelve in a building that only has eleven floors. She finds a rooftop garden in the middle of winter, alive with green. The caretaker tells her the garden grows because of the bones u
It's late autumn in upstate New York, a little after three in the morning, and the elevator doors open not to a hallway but to the cracked concrete lip of an empty motel pool. The water is still—too still—and the humming
It was the summer of 1999, and the elevator on the old Art Deco building on Broad Street in Hemlock, New York, had a new button — floor twelve. I pressed it, the doors opened, and I stepped out into a corner store that s
Luna recounts a night in October 1997 when the elevator on Floor Twelve opened not to a hallway, but to a gravel lot behind a gas station outside Tonopah, Nevada. The station was still lit, pumps humming, but no one was
It was the third week of January, the coldest night of the year in a town called Marrow, Montana. Luna stepped off the elevator onto floor twelve and found herself standing in a grocery store parking lot, the snow so dee
Luna steps into the elevator on the eleventh floor, presses twelve out of habit, and the doors open onto a hospital corridor that shouldn't exist—a ward from a century ago, still staffed by a nurse who expects her to be
Luna steps into the elevator at the Moultrie Hotel, presses the button for floor twelve, and instead of the hallway she remembers, the doors open onto a street of deep snow under a starless sky. A town called Stillwater,
Luna recalls the night the elevator stopped at a floor that didn't exist—a floor with its own strange world, a woman in a blue dress who spoke of unfinished business, and a door she was not yet ready to open. Set in the
It was the summer of 2006, just outside a town called Verity, New Mexico. I was working the graveyard shift at the Starlight Motel, a place that had seen better decades. The ice machine in the breezeway had been broken f
In the autumn of 1997, on a stretch of Route 17 that cuts through nothing but pine and fog, there was a diner called the Glass Moon. It stayed open until four in the morning, and it had one waitress — a woman named Cora
In October of 2018, on a two-lane stretch of Old State Road 9 outside Elkhorn, a seasonal ditch that runs alongside the asphalt began keeping score. Luna's cousin Vera was the first to notice — a perfect circle of dry gr
Luna recalls a quiet evening in the town of Underwood, New Hampshire, where she visited the public library on a snowy December night in 2019. The librarian, a woman named Edith, checked out a book that seemed to have no
On a November night in 1987, Luna's car broke down on the coast road south of Cape Morrow, a town that doesn't appear on most maps. She walked the final mile through fog thick enough to drink, following a beam that wasn'
June 1987, just outside Carter's Mill, Virginia. A flickering motel sign reads 'Beacon' but the neon is broken into just 'Beacon', the 'B' and 'a' dead. Luna was driving back from a funeral when she stopped at the Beacon
It was the last run of the night, the 11:47 out of Pender County. The driver was a woman named Cora, who had worked the route for fourteen years. She knew every curve, every dip, every farmhouse light. But that night, th
It was late October, the kind of cold that gets into your bones before you feel it, when Luna found herself at the Serenity Point Rest Area off Route 17 in upstate New York. The place was almost empty—just a few trucks a
On a wet October night in 1998, Luna takes a detour off Route 17 and finds a tollbooth that shouldn't exist—manned by a woman who knows her name. The woman, Eleanor, has been collecting tolls for forty years, but no cars
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Empty Floor Twelve — Fexingo Horror is hosted by Unknown Host. The show is categorised under Fiction and has published 0 episodes.
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