Pandora Fables Podcast
Web <link> from RSS feed:
https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/pandorafables
Database link:
https://anchor.fm/pandorafables
RSS Feed:
https://anchor.fm/s/5298e944/podcast/rss
Creator: PandoraFables
Synopsis:
A new story telling podcast
Completion status: Partial
Not tagged: [Format] [Continuity] [Voices] [Genre] [Maturity] [Creator demographics] [Character demographics] [Country of origin] [Transcript] [Content warnings]
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Episodes:
It's Here Ep.7 - I'm Here SEASON FINALE
Thu, 29 Apr 2021 17:00:00 GMT
Barry and the kids run for their lives. A glimpse of hope appears in the middle of the forest. It’s... it’s here. It’s Here was written and created by Adrian Weston. Original music, sound design and audio editing by Edgar Ibarra and Alexei Galar, at IB-Aural.com Featuring Jacob Parrish, Tara Sands.
Thu, 22 Apr 2021 17:00:00 GMT
Stacy plays a joke on Barry and the kids. Mr Grey seems a little different. Scars show what true carnage looks like. It’s Here was written and created by Adrian Weston. Original music, sound design and audio editing by Edgar Ibarra and Alexei Galar, at IB-Aural.com Featuring Jacob Parrish, Tara Sands.
Thu, 15 Apr 2021 17:00:00 GMT
A startling appearance disturbes Barry. A new tape is found, uncovering a new mystery. Danger seems closer than ever. It’s Here was written and created by Adrian Weston. Original music, sound design and audio editing by Edgar Ibarra and Alexei Galar, at IB-Aural.com Featuring Jacob Parrish, Tara Sands.
Thu, 08 Apr 2021 17:00:00 GMT
Barry finds a room full of memories. A new character convinces him to investigate. A new clue or is his mind playing games? It’s Here was written and created by Adrian Weston. Original music, sound design and audio editing by Edgar Ibarra and Alexei Galar, at IB-Aural.com Featuring Jacob Parrish, Tara Sands.
Thu, 01 Apr 2021 17:30:36 GMT
Barry meets the rest of his family at the mansion. They listen to an ominous message and a discussion arises. It’s Here was written and created by Adrian Weston. Original music, sound design and audio editing by Edgar Ibarra and Alexei Galar, at IB-Aural.com Featuring Jacob Parrish, Tara Sands.
Thu, 25 Mar 2021 18:00:00 GMT
Barry is feeling anxious at a dark event. Something just doesn’t add up. It’s like there is no logical explanation for what his family is going through. Or is there? It’s Here was written and created by Adrian Weston. Original music, sound design and audio editing by Edgar Ibarra and Alexei Galar, at IB-Aural.com Featuring Jacob Parrish, Tara Sands.
Thu, 18 Mar 2021 18:00:00 GMT
Barry travels to the mansion where evil forces have caused major demise upon his family. A long road, a strange death and a secret to uncover. It’s Here was written and created by Adrian Weston. Original music, sound design and audio editing by Edgar Ibarra and Alexei Galar, at IB-Aural.com Featuring Jacob Parrish, Tara Sands.
It's Here - Trailer Season Two
Thu, 11 Mar 2021 18:00:00 GMT
At long last, it's been a while. Here is the trailer for season two of our upcoming podcast “It’s Here”, a horror audio drama where evil forces await you. My first ever audio drama with a full cast of talent. I can't thank IB-aural enough for the amazing audio editing skills!
Pandora Fables Ep.7 - A Deadman's Promise SEASON FINALE
Thu, 28 Mar 2019 12:50:00 GMT
Hello all! Sorry this is so late, these last few months been a rollar coaster for me. But I have a lot in the pot that I'm cooking up for you! I decided to go ahead and make this episode the season Finale for season 1. Don't worry I'll be back for season 2 soon and I plan on taking a lot of what i learned from this season and doing a even better job. Thank you all! and enjoy! A Deadman’s Promise “You should have stayed dead, boy.” The words boomed in the bar as I petted her softly. His voice was rough and rugged. The roughness in it held the horrors of a man that has done the devil’s work with glee in his eyes. As my hand lay on the cold iron, his eyes narrowed on me. “Son, if you gonna touch that iron you best be ready to use it.” The coldness of a murder. I was dead the moment I called out his name. The voice of the man who took everything I loved. There were three others, each as mean and cold-hearted as him. After seven years of searching, I finally found the ones who took me away from my child. In the silence of the bar, I could hear Satan’s laughter in the background. Then in one quick and final motion, I pulled my faithful hound from the hostler and pointed her at him about a half a second faster than he could muster his own dog. She barked and bucked in my hand and delivered her sweet justice towards him. Her blessing passed through his right shoulder and his friends managed to summon their own hounds. I knew, staring down the barrel of those irons that this was the end. The laughter grew louder and louder until even the echoing of the gunshots faded. I knew hell indeed was waiting, and I was going to take as many with me as possible. Dying ain’t no way to be living, but a Deadman never breaks a promise. “You don’t have to do this, son.” The words echoed in the small house as I began to get dressed. His voice is old and tired. The roughness in it holds secrets that no man should ever share. As my hands gripped my belt, a heavy sigh left his lips. “Son, dying ain’t no way to make a living.” The roughness of his voice hid the wisdom in his words. The voice of a man who was smart enough to live past his glory days. He stood in the doorway watching, praying that the hurt they left me with didn’t consume my soul. I ain’t no saint, ain’t the man he knew. His cold eyes met mine as the silence between us grew. As the cold iron filled my right hand, the hardness of his stare softened and he knew deep down inside, hell awaits me. I slowly placed each one of her blessings in the chamber. Each one especially loaded for those men who left me here. Those men who stole away everything I ever loved. I was a holy man. I fought hard to live a good life, to bring peace to my fellow man. The memories are still fresh in my head. The stabbing; gutting me like some damn pig, leaving me to bleed out. By the grace of something I know now wasn’t holy, I lived. Stumbling through the woods, covered in crimson from head to toe. Staring at my house burning brightly and seeing the two things I love the most hanged and gutted like animals. Ain’t no angel saved me those seven years ago. No, the devil kept me kicking so I could send him back his demons. There was nothing left to say. Our eyes met one final time. Two strangers who once shared blood. Now all that laid between us was broken promises and ashes. As I placed the cold iron in her place, he only turned to let me pass. She was my father’s, a loyal dog that protected him through the darkest of times. She only spoke when needed and when she did, they knew her bite was coming. “You sure about this?” a voice echoed from behind me. I didn’t answer, only kept walking ahead. I could feel his eyes watching me. Taking in my grief, my fury, drinking it down his gullet like fine wine. There was something peaceful about the cold winter sky ahead. The white snow covering up the filth
Pandora Fables Ep.6 - The Stuff Of Life
Sat, 19 Jan 2019 17:00:00 GMT
This was the first audio I ever got done. It was really scary to do and I was panicing cause i didn't know how it would turn out. Part of me was scared the person would say the story made no sense. While another half of me thought it would come out horrible. About ten minutes before I got on my first plane to go to Canada for the first time Dave messaged me back with the audio. After listening to it i knew, I wanted to create more. So here it is! It was a day like any day. Which was always the best type of day because it means it would be a wonderful day. With me a child sat, who I shared some blood relationships to yet I don’t recall just how this could be. For my brother remained unmarried and I lost contract with my sister many years ago. But for the sake of moving things along I shall call him cousin. He was a small thing, between the age of knowing too much about the world and knowing nothing. We sat quietly for a minute before he finally spoke, “Tell me a story.” Such a bold request but it was followed by the most careful of words, “Not just any story, but a story full of the stuff that make life.” He said. “The stuff that make life?” I replied puzzled because I was lead to believe that everything is part of life. Was there some new formula that I missed out on? He ginned with pride at me, the gin you give someone you have outwitted. I know that gin because I am normally the one giving it out. “You know, a story of love, of pain, of defeat…” he stared at me as if he was looking through me. As if he was speaking to the talent of a writer who could make such a thing. “…of victory! The stuff that makes life.” “Ahh!” the noise left my lips as though I knew what he meant. It masked my puzzled mind but do these things truly define life? If so I surely have been living life wrong. To make matters worse I never knew I was able to make a story of life, at least not these type of life. With a soft cough to clear my throat (like the professionals do) I said with great excitement “Alright! Shall we begin?” Silence once again as he stared at me. Another cough (which was a sign of true talent to give the listeners two well place coughs) “Once upon a time…” I started. “No, no, no!” he cried “That’s not a story full of the stuff of life! That’s….that’s…” his eyes closed as if the right words was painted on his eye lids. “That’s a lie! A fable! Make believe!” I sat shocked, not at the fact that he cut me off before I even started (which is rude to do after such a professional cough mind you) but that child that was young enough to watch cartoon but not yet old enough to be seen as strange for doing so. “A lie?” I replied puzzled once more. “I’m no baby! I know of life! I know of the stuff in it! I have had enough birthdays to fill a hand and then enough to almost complete the next!” he explained. “No lies! Life is not a lie! We are alive right? Meaning life is no lie!” such reasoning I would except from a man in some seat in power but not of him. “Open upon a time…” he said mocking my voice (which I found rude because though I do sound like that I did cough after all and that makes it more reasonable.) “…is for lies!” I closed my eyes and nodded softly to his argument. I didn’t know why because this was what my father did anytime my mother would act similar to him. As my eyes open he stood there with the gin of victory, which means my father was a genius among men. With a slight cough which was far less demanding as before I spoke, “Alright. I shall tell you, a story of truth. A story full of the stuff of life.” He sat down with a ginned that would make most women slap him if he was only a few months older. “There was once a man, who had no name. For lack of better choice, he forgot it at birth. Though he was nameless everyone called him Tony. Tony was a man of action, though he was too shy to do much on his own. Tony was a smart man, once he was able to count all of the people within one room with a single gla
Pandora Fables Ep.5 - There's A Man In The Woods
Tue, 08 Jan 2019 11:38:00 GMT
The first episode by someone else! I hope this is the first of many episode that all I had to do was host! This is a really amazing poem please make sure you check out more of Jacob Streilein work! “There’s a Man in the Woods” was created by Jacob Streilein. Michael Paul Kennedy did the musical score and Michael Ho did the vocal performance for the video. He made the film for a final at CalArts (California Institute of the Arts). Written by: Jacob Streilein - https://vimeo.com/93052696 Intro by: Jacob Parrish - https://twitter.com/JacobParrishVO Intro Music by: Isaac Taylor - https://isaactaylormade.com Host by: Adrian Weston - https://twitter.com/PandoraFables - https://www.instagram.com/pandora_fables/ - whysodeliciousss@gmail.com There's a man in the woods.What a spectacle.Before the stories started, this school was still respectable.My students used to skip down the hill to the honeysucklePluck a couple,And collect their nectar till they picked their fill.Except one obnoxious kid, Sid.Who just watched them eat the flowersWhile he seethed and scowledCause he couldn't bear to share his sweet treats throught out our recess hour.I remember Sid saying:"There's a man in the woods!"That's how the rumors began.Of course, Sid had spotted him first.The poor kids. He got ‘em immersed in his spielAbout a serial killer whose gun barrel glint hint said peril.A visit to the nurse, or worse, a hearse,Waiting just beyond the dale(dell).
Pandora Fables Ep.4 - Last Stop
Mon, 17 Dec 2018 11:16:00 GMT
Welcome one welcome all to the Fourth episode of Pandora Fables! This is the first installment of a series I am making called "The Mind Of" where we travel inside the mind of different characters as they battle their demons. I hope you enjoy it! I know it's been away since I posted. Sadly I got caught up on college and finals and making sure I passed my classes. The time away didn't go to waste because I passed all my classes with flying colors! On other news interested in getting your work on the podcast? Well feel free to send an email by, and your work could appear on the next episode! Also, I am currently working on a few things to start a patreon. I will discuss this on a future episode. No need to worry I won't be hiding any episode behind a paywall or anything like that. But there will be special prizes for people who subscribe! Narrative by: Jacob Parrish - https://twitter.com/JacobParrishVO Music by: Isaac Taylor - https://isaactaylormade.com Written by: Adrian Weston - https://twitter.com/PandoraFables - https://www.instagram.com/pandora_fables/ - whysodeliciousss@gmail.com Oh, how I hear you, calling for sweet release. Is your soul still crying? Has the light gone from your eyes? Where was your sweet goodbye? Eugene Montgomery prayed that he would be able to bear another winter, another lonely Christmas, another starless night. He sat in his truck, a nine-seven piece of crap he bought with the last few bucks he got from the insurance claim. He didn’t even bother trying to crack it because just like him, it didn’t work right in the cold. The chill of the night did more than just invade his body and cause his muscle to ache; he didn’t mind it tonight, though. With a bottle of half empty brandy by him, he didn’t even notice the chill. Maybe if he did, maybe if he wasn’t already halfway into the bottle, he would have noticed it wasn’t the night air that caused the chills tonight. “Shit…” he mumbles, staring at the empty void in his wallet. “God dammit!” he groans, tossing the wallet aside. It was supposed to be an easy job. He was supposed to clear at least enough to cover the gift and the room. All he had to do was pick up a package at one place and take it to another. Easy. No one said anything about the guns, or the screaming. Another deep drag of the bottle as he washed away the images. “Not your fault,” a voice whispered. Eugene said nothing. “How were you supposed to know? They pulled first, and you were just defending yourself,” the voice added. Another deep dive into the bottle and he handed it over to the stranger. “Yeah…. Yeah, not my fault.” The stranger smiled as he took the bottle, taking a careful sip of the sweet nectar inside. “Fuck, maybe I can sell something… maybe I…” Eugene began before the stranger quickly cut him off. “Sell what?” The car? Eugene thought. “Need it,” the stranger said. The bottle? “Come on.” The ring? “Oh.” Eugene stared at his hand. There it was, like the only survivor of some great war. The last remnant of his marriage. He didn’t even know why he still had it, why he kept it. How long has it been? How long has he been without her…without… him? Another deep dive and now the line between drunk and completely shit faced began to blur. “Bet she doesn’t wear hers’,” the stranger remarked calmly. Eugene grimaced. “Wonder where she’s at?” the stranger asked. “Wonder if your son remembers you? Probably not. Guess when things end like that, it’s just like being dead and gone.” Eugene said another as he stared at the motel. Another shitty motel for lost souls who had nowhere else to go—the “Last Stop” motel. Eugene chuckled at that. He was damn sure it was for lost souls. Why did he go out tonight? Why did he have to stop, stop and think? Stop and fucking drink. If he didn’t go, he’ll be sleeping right now or maybe he would have left town. If he didn’t stop and didn’t park here, the stranger wouldn’t have come tonight. “Oh, come on,” the stranger said quietly. “I ain’t no str
Pandora Fables Ep.3 - O' Ye Of Little Faith
Fri, 02 Nov 2018 14:15:00 GMT
Welcome one welcome all to the third episode of Pandora Fables! I won't lie I am really excited about this one. If you haven't please go read or listen to "I have no mouth and I must scream" Such a amazing story that actaully inspired me to write this one. Also Happy Halloween. I address the release schedule hiccup am currently in. Also if you can, please like, follow, rate and comment. It helps the podcast grow and the more it grow the more I can give back to you all! Narrative by: Jacob Parrish - https://twitter.com/JacobParrishVO Music by: Isaac Taylor Written by: Adrian Weston - https://twitter.com/PandoraFables
Pandora Fables Ep.2 - Ten O Clock
Sun, 14 Oct 2018 11:00:00 GMT
Welcome to the second episode of Pandora Fables! This time no need for any small talk let's jump right into the story! Narrative by: Jacob Parrish - https://twitter.com/JacobParrishVO Music by: Isaac Taylor Written by: Adrian Weston - https://twitter.com/PandoraFables
Tue, 18 Sep 2018 22:57:02 GMT
Welcome to the first episode of Pandora Fables. This week on the podcast, I’ll introduce the show and discuss what it’ll be about. Then let’s take a journey inside of Pandora’s book in our first story, Deep. Let’s explore our deep desires and find out who we really are deep down inside. I’ll like to apologize for the quality of the intro. I am far from a professional and I will keep working on improving the podcast. Narrative by: Jacob Parrish - https://twitter.com/JacobParrishVO Music by: Isaac Taylor Written by: Adrian Weston - https://twitter.com/PandoraFables Story inspiration: Foul Weather by Daniel H. Wilson