This is the sweetness, I think, that consistently balances out everything that's creepy in this stretch of midnight countryside: along with the promise of cryptids and photo assignments and local cultists and satanic graffiti, Krypta FM promises community, and creates a growing sense of belonging. The names on the forums start to become familiar, and I begin to be able to anticipate the things they might say, the replies they might leave under my posts. The map slowly starts to make sense, and by day three, say, I'm leaving the house pretty confident in the direction I should be headed in. Photo objectives are ticked off my list and the story of what's truly going on out there starts to come into focus. I go to bed buzzing at what I've seen, and the next day, at ten past nine, I'm ready to turn on the radio again and hear that familiar voice.