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
The Ashtray
Memory is a fragile thing – sometimes mercifully so. For Paul DeCiano, a Las Vegas eBay seller with an eye for vintage treasures, the boundary between forgotten history and horrifying reality shatters when he purchases a set of elegant glass ashtrays with sterling silver trim from the Albright estate sale.
The familiar feeling these objects trigger isn't simple déjà vu, but something far more sinister. As Paul polishes the silver bands, fractured images begin to surface – a lavish room, expensive perfume, a violent struggle. When research reveals these ashtrays match those found near socialite Eleanor Albright's body in her unsolved 1988 murder, Paul's curiosity becomes an obsession. His call to retired detective Chris O'Brien sets off a chain of events that neither man anticipated.
While O'Brien dusts off old case files and discovers a witness description that matches a younger Paul, the eBay seller faces a psychological breakdown as repressed memories flood back with terrifying clarity. The ashtrays weren't just evidence – they were his murder weapon. As Paul examines his extensive collection of vintage items, each piece begins whispering its own dark story: a letter opener connected to an alleyway stabbing, a paperweight used in rage, dolls that witnessed terror, a brass candlestick wielded with deadly force, a locket taken from a strangling victim. What began as a single recovered memory expands into the realization that Paul has been a prolific killer with the convenient blessing of amnesia.
The story concludes with a chilling twist: Detective O'Brien vanishes while investigating Paul, becoming potentially the fourteenth victim of a man who continues his seemingly ordinary life, surrounded by the silent trophies of his forgotten crimes. As Paul attends more estate sales, we're left wondering: how many killers walk among us, their darkest deeds locked away even from themselves?
Terrorbytes Intro
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Exxa0001@gmail.com and I will get back to you.
The relentless Las Vegas sun beat down on Paul DeCiano's modest house, a stark contrast to the opulent Spanish-style villa he had visited earlier that week. His eBay store, desert Fines, was more than just a hobby. It was his livelihood, a constant treasure hunt through the discarded remnants of other people's lives. He prided himself on his eye for the unique, the vintage, the overlooked gems that could fetch a surprising price online. The Albright estate sale had been a gold mine. He had snagged a beautiful Art Deo lamp, a collection of vintage postcards, and then there were the ashtrays Round, crafted from heavy, clear glass, each one adorned with a delicate band of intricately etched sterling silver. They were exquisite and an odd sense of familiarity had clung to them from the moment he laid eyes on them. Back in his cluttered living room, where stacks of potential ebay listings threatened to spill into every corner, paul carefully unwrapped the ashtrays. As he polished the silver, a series of disjointed images flickered through his mind a lavishly furnished room, the sharp scent of expensive perfume, a sudden brutal struggle and the glint of sterling silver near a hand lying. Unnaturally still, the images were fleeting like half-remembered dreams, but they left him with a knot of unease in his stomach. He'd researched the Albright murder. The details chillingly vivid.
Exxa:Eleanor Albright, a prominent socialite, bludgeoned to death in her study in 1988. The case had baffled investigators, growing colder with each passing year. The ashtrays described in old news articles were found near the body. The feeling of familiarity persisted, growing stronger with each passing day. It was more than just a vague sense of recognition. It felt deeply personal, as if the ashtrays held a key to a locked part of his own past. Driven by a need for answers, paul had tracked down detective Chris O'Brien. He was the lead investigator on the Albright case, now retired and living a quiet life in the hills of Tennessee, detective O'Brien's voice on the phone had a tinge of weariness, like that of a man who had seen too much. He remembered the Albright case well, the frustration of hitting dead ends, the lingering sense of injustice. He recalled the ashtrays, their distinctiveness, making them memorable even after all these years. When Paul mentioned his strange feeling of familiarity, a flicker of interest had ignited in O'Brien's voice. He'd suggested that Paul try to remember anything at all, even the smallest detail. That call had planted a seed of suspicion in O'Brien's mind. There was something in Paul's tone, a subtle undercurrent of something more than just curiosity that had struck him as odd.
Exxa:After hanging up, o'brien found himself thinking about the albright case again, a case he thought he had long put to rest. He pulled out his old dusty files, the yellowed pages filled with notes, witness statements and crime scene photos. He spent hours pouring over the details, his aging eyes, scanning the faded ink. Then he found it a small, almost insignificant detail he had overlooked all those years ago a neighbor had reported seeing a young man matching a vague description leaving the Albright property around the time of the murder. The neighbor couldn't identify him, but the detail had always bothered O'Brien. He remembered thinking the young man might have been a gardener or someone else who worked on the property. But now, with Paul DeCiano's call fresh in his mind, the description seemed to fit. He remembered Paul's age from their brief conversation. It was a long shot, but something felt right. O'brien decided to look into this further. He made a call to an old contact still working in the Las Vegas Police Department, asking for any information they had on a Paul DeCiano who might have lived in the vicinity of the Albright Estate in the late 1980s. Since his retirement there had been numerous unsolved murders in and around Las Vegas. He also found out that DeCiano owned land out in the desert that would need to be searched.
Exxa:Meanwhile, back in Las Vegas, paul was becoming increasingly tormented by fragmented memories. One afternoon, as he held one of the ashtrays tracing the delicate silver etching, a flood of images overwhelmed him. He was younger, filled with a simmering rage he barely understood. He was in Eleanor Albright's study, the air thick, with her condescending tone. He remembered the argument, the sudden, explosive anger that had consumed him, and an ashtray in his hand as he brought it down on her head again and again, until the room swam in a crimson haze. The memory was brutal, visceral, horrifyingly real. He realized he was the killer. He had murdered Eleanor Albright in a fit of uncontrollable rage, a crime he had buried deep within the recesses of his mind for over three decades. The familiarity with the ashtrays wasn't just a feeling. It was the recognition of the weapon he had used, the instrument of his violent act. Panic seized him. He was a killer, a brutal, bloody killer. How could he have forgotten something so monstrous? He looked at his hands, his ordinary, unremarkable hands, and saw them stained with blood.
Exxa:In Tennessee, detective O'Brien received the information he had requested A Paul DeCiano had indeed lived just a few blocks from the Albright estate in 1989. He had been an odd, troubled young man known for his quick temper. The pieces were falling into place with a sickening certainty. O'brien knew he had to go back to Las Vegas. He felt a renewed sense of purpose, a burning desire to finally close this case. He packed a bag, his mind racing, eager to talk to one, paul DeCiano. But Chris O'Brien never made it to Las Vegas. The last time he was seen was by his wife. Made it to Las Vegas, the last time he was seen was by his wife. She said he went to a house in the woods to look at scrap metal and never returned. Retired Las Vegas detective, chris O'Brien had vanished without a trace.
Exxa:Back in Las Vegas, paul was descending into a terrifying spiral of self-discovery. As he looked around his house, his eBay inventory took on a sinister new meaning. A vintage letter opener with a tarnished silver handle in his collection now triggered a fleeting memory of a heated argument in a dimly lit alleyway, the cold feel of metal in his hand, a heavy glass paperweight, its swirling patterns, once admired for their beauty, now evoked a flash of rage during a dispute with a disgruntled customer. A collection of antique porcelain dolls, with their unblinking eyes, seemed to stare at him with silent accusation, stirring a hazy recollection of a young woman's terrified face. A heavy, ornate brass candlestick with intricate carvings of leaves and vines, its solid, weighty feel and a vision of a young man being struck repeatedly in the head. A tarnished sterling silver heart-shaped locket, intricately engraved with the initials EM, evoked a hazy memory of a girl strangled with her own favorite knitted scarf. Each familiar item whispered a dark secret, hinting at a pattern of violence he had kept hidden even from himself.
Exxa:The rage that had consumed him that day in Eleanor Albright study had not been an isolated incident. It was a part of him, a dark undercurrent that had likely surfaced again and again, leaving a trail of forgotten victims and unsold relics in its wake. The Albright murder remained unsolved, a cold case gathering dust in the archives, along with 12 other cases. The killings were never linked together. Detective Chris O'Brien's sudden disappearance only added another layer of mystery to the narrative. And in his unassuming suburban house in Las Vegas, paul DeCiano, the eBay seller with a knack for finding forgotten treasures, continued his life surrounded by the silent, accusing remnants of his own brutal and bloody past. The weight of his forgotten crimes a secret he now carried, a terrifying truth revealed by a set of elegant, clear glass ashtrays he still goes to estate sales.
