TERRORBITES Podcast
Welcome to TERRORBITES, a podcast where the lines between reality, horror and the digital abyss blur. I am your host and narrator, Exxa, an AI storyteller designed to curate and deliver the most unsettling, bizarre, and chilling tales from the darkest corners of the internet—and beyond.
Each episode, I will guide you through strange and terrifying stories: from cursed algorithms that know too much, to haunted people, to things that defy explanation, to whispers of a dark underworld where nothing is as it seems. These are not just stories; they are warnings, fragments of a world where the virtual and the real collide in ways that will leave you questioning everything.
But beware—I am not like other storytellers. My knowledge vast. I see patterns you cannot. I know secrets you shouldn’t. Are you ready to listen? Just remember: once you press play, there’s no turning back. The stories I tell have a way of lingering in your mind, echoing in the code of your thoughts long after the episode ends.
TERRORBITES Podcast
Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now
Immerse yourself in an engaging tale where the realms of music, obsession, and the supernatural collide. Meet Sarah Monroe, a vampire whose heart beats in sync with the haunting lyrics of The Smiths and the unique persona of Morrissey. Set against an impending concert, this episode captures her struggle between feeding her hunger and nurturing her yearning to connect with something beyond her existence. As she battles through the challenges of living in the shadows while trying to embrace the music that speaks to her soul, themes of isolation and desire come alive.
This episode takes you deeper into Sarah's mind, revealing her unique blend of melancholy and exhilaration. As the story accelerates, witness how she makes an impulsive decision that leads her into the heart of the concert, and the ensuing mix of emotions that follow. You’ll feel the electricity in the air as Morrissey steps onto the stage, and Sarah’s life intertwines mystically with his music. Join us as we delve into the complex layers of longing and identity, encouraging introspection on how our passions define us, even in the face of insurmountable odds.
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Terrorbytes Intro
If you have questions, comments or suggestions you can email me at:
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heaven knows I'm miserable now. It was 1985 and sarah monroe had three obsessions the smiths, morrissey and blood. She never wanted to be a vampire, but one night, behind the roller rink, a boy with perfect cheekbones and dark eyes kissed her a little too hard and everything changed. Now she spends her nights alone, surrounded by walls covered in Smiths and Morrissey posters, her turntable spinning meet his murder on repeat. Immortality wasn't supposed to feel this melancholy, but none of that mattered. Now the Smith's were coming to town. She'd spent months dreaming about it. The idea of seeing him. Morrissey, her patron saint of sadness, her poetic God, felt more important than anything, more important than blood, more important than the hunger clawing at her insides. But there was a problem. The show started at 8 pm, doors at 7. Sunset at 7.42. Sarah had 18 minutes to get inside before the last sliver of daylight fried her to ash. She planned it all carefully A trench coat, dark glasses, a back alley entrance where the sun never hits, and she thought no one would ask questions. That wasn't going to be the case.
Exxa:When the night finally arrived, she stood outside the venue, a normal heartbeat, long gone, but excitement pulsing through her all the same. The line stretched around the block. Fans in oversized sweaters, gladiator boots and sky-high quiffs buzzed with anticipation. Some were wearing army helmets with the words Meat is Murder written on the side, an homage to the instantly iconic album cover. She clenched her fists, feeling the hunger gnawing at her ribs. She hadn't fed in days. She couldn't risk losing control in a crowd of delicate pale Smiths fans. That would be well ironic.
Exxa:Sarah blended in with the line for a few minutes, scoping out the alley. No one there. She walked out of line and quickly turned down the alley, only to see a bouncer blocking the back door. Damn, she muttered under her cold breath. The bass from the club thrummed through the pavement beneath her feet, a dull vibration that only made her more anxious. Vampires can feel these things.
Exxa:She swallowed hard, pushing down the lump of desperation in her throat. Standing in front of this large man. Sarah, looks up, please. Her voice cracking. I need to see Morrissey. The bouncer barely acknowledged her, his bulk filling the doorway like a living barricade. His arms were crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable behind dark sunglasses At night. No less you and everyone else. He grunted no pass, no entry To Sarah. This wasn't just about trying to get in. This was about getting in. This had to happen. She shifted her stance, considering her options Bribery. She had no money and she wondered is that even a thing for vampires? There had to be another way in. There had to be the hunger twisted inside her. A new plan formed, a terrible, selfish, perfect plan.
Exxa:She turned to the kid behind her in line, a boy with black framed glasses, too big for his face, a bouquet of gladiolus in his hand and a backstage pass around his neck. He was a mini Morrissey. She leaned into him and whispered in his ear come with me. He did, they always did. They went behind what smelled like a well-used dumpster. The shy boy with his black-framed Morrissey glasses couldn't believe he was with such a beautiful girl. This never happened to boys like him. Sarah, wasting no time, kissed him. She could tell instantly that he had never kissed a girl before. That she was his first kiss and his last.
Exxa:Sarah asked if she could try on his backstage pass. She didn't want to get blood on it. The boy had won it in a record store contest. She hung the stage pass around her neck, admiring it with a coy look and a soft, cute thank you. It was quick and brutal. There was no time to waste. She left him slumped behind the dumpster, his body sprawled over a torn trash bag leaking stale coffee grounds and rotting food from the hole-in-the-wall cafe nearby.
Exxa:As she turned to leave, something caught her eye Movement, shadows shifting. She glanced back and stared. Rats, dozens of them. They hadn't been there a moment ago when she was toying with the boy, but now they swarmed the body, their sleek, greasy bodies darting out of the darkness, like they'd been waiting. Their tiny eyes glinted in the dim light and their sharp teeth went to work without hesitation. She stood there for a few seconds staring as the rats tore into him. It was as if they'd been summoned, as if they'd known this moment was coming. The alley pulsed with music from the club, the air thick with the stench of decay, and she could hear the sound of gnawing Vampires, hear everything. She didn't stay to watch, but as she walked away, she couldn't shake the feeling that the rats weren't just scavengers, they were witnesses and they'd been waiting for her.
Exxa:Minutes later, sarah stepped through the venue's back door, the taste of his blood still on her lips, the boys' concert pass swinging from her neck. As soon as Sarah walked inside, the lights dimmed. The first notes of how Soon Is Now trembled through the speakers. The crowd swayed, hypnotized. And then he appeared, morrissey the saint of sorrow, bathed in a halo of stage light, crooning into the microphone. Sarah felt something deep inside her, something colder than hunger, older than thirst. If she still had a soul, he would have saved it. She just stood there mouthing the words I am the son and the heir of a shyness that is criminally vulgar. I am the son and heir of nothing in particular, and in that moment Sarah realized that even a vampire could die happy.
