Old Gods of Appalachia is a horror anthology podcast and therefore may contain material

not suitable for all audiences.

So listener discretion is advised. So. These old roots run into a ground so bloody, full of broken dreams to dusty bones.

They feed a tree so dark and hungry

so dark and hungry

Where's branches fled new blood flows

The ghost of a past you thought long buried

Raza haunt the young

the shadow falls the judgment comes

Tread soft, my friend, amongst your fellow,

make your bond your word,

lest you get what you deserve. And then. I'm going to On a warm summer's evening, Lee Underwood and his companion, Mary Gold Graves, known to her close friends as Goldie, made their way up the walkway to the front door of

number 56 Rosebud Lane, right on the edge of the white side of Kingston, West Virginia.

They had walked from their agreed upon meeting place outside of Moses' drugstore

where the two had unofficially begun their courtship at the Soda Fountain and walk north away from the Black

quarter of town and towards the home of Lee's good friend and employer one

Mr. J.T. Fields. The houses grew bigger and newer as they made their way to the address and

Mary Gold's anxiety grew the further they strayed from the side of town where they were at least among their own.

Though no place was truly safe for black folks after the sun went down across Appalachia.

Before they were completely out of their element, Lee guided her down two streets into a modest neighborhood of single-story homes that sat on identical lads.

The area reminded Mary Gold of the company town some of the local miners lived in, though

the homes were a little nicer. Her nerves were already buzzing as Lee knocked on the door of number 56, but her heart leapt into her throat

...