Rain fell in small silver pools in the bottoms of potholes that lined the city roads, and bejeweled the apartment windows with tiny liquid beads. On her wooden desk, old turpentine-soaked rags and crusted paintbrushes cluttered the space. The room was dim, except for a light that was clamped on her easel, pointed toward an empty canvas. As her paintbrush danced across the canvas, leaving behind thick globs of color, she began to feel disheartened. On this day, she was particularly uninspired by the still life of plastic fruits and glass bottles she had set up on the window sill. Art was the coals that fed the flames in Julianne’s soul. Painting was the only thing that made her feel like an accomplished human being. She glanced over at her bookshelf and instantly, one book in particular caught her eye. It was one on how to paint landscapes. She thumbed through the pages until she came across a photo of interest: a picture of a forest. Julianne paused for a second, thinking of a way to approach this new painting. She looked around the room at the stacks of unfinished works. I need a change, she thought, and with her new-found inspiration she packed up her supplies – a bag full of assorted brushes, a few blank canvases, and her easel – and kissed her black and white cat Ash on his nose. She packed her things into the backseat and got into her jeep.

By three o’ clock pm, the rain had halted, but the gloomy atmosphere still persisted and a thin blanket of mist yet lingered. Julianne drove out of the city past apartment buildings and concrete districts until the surroundings became increasingly suburban, and eventually, wooded. After a half-hour of driving, the State Forest sign appeared ahead and she turned into the parking lot. She stepped out of the vehicle and inhaled, taking in a lungful of the late-October chill. She threw on a jacket over her hoodie, tucked her fold-up easel under her arm and slung her bag of art supplies over her shoulder. There was a fifteen minute walk along the train tracks that ran parallel to the forest’s edge to get to the opening where Julianne wanted to enter the woods. As she walked further and further down the path, she noticed how although most of the leaves were gone from the trees, the forest was still thick with thicket and thorn bushes. The forest was beautiful though, and Julianne was happiest when she was in the wilderness, among all things natural. The path twisted and turned around bare trees and fallen logs until she stopped at a stream. She became mesmerized by the crystal water that cascaded over the smooth rocks. A satisfied smile showed across her delicate features as she realized she had found the ultimate spot.

Once the canvas was set up on the easel and her paints were out and ready, she lightly sketched the scene first, planning where she would carve the trickling creek through the brown forest on the canvas. She noted exactly where each tree would go, sketching the trunks softly, and where the tiny beams of sunlight would come streaming through the tree branches.

It watched her. It monitored her every move. It curiously turned its head from side to side, watching its prey. The creature usually walked on all fours, but as it stalked her, it crouched on it’s scrawny hind legs. Its front limbs were curved, serrated scythes like that of a praying mantis. It only stood three feet off the ground, at most. It possessed four large black eyes on the top of its head, arranged like that of a spider’s; Four portals of inquisitiveness that stalked with the curiosity of a child, but with the malicious intent of a murderer.

The sudden crunch of a branch a few yards away made Julianne turn around and scan the edge of the foliage directly behind her. There was nothing there…nothing that she could see, and so she went back to her artwork.

It knew that its prey was becoming aware of its presence in the brush and it knew it had to be cautious if it wanted to have a meal. It began to silently scale a tree, digging its mantis-like limbs into the bark. It crept out onto a tree limb overhanging Julianne and peered down at her, its bulbous eyes intensely stalking her. It picked up her delicious scent, and then it began to salivate.

Nightfall was slowly encroaching on the dense forest, and Julianne was adding the finishing brushstrokes to her new piece of artwork. A drop of liquid landed on her cheek and she brushed it off with the back of her hand. Julianne looked up at the forest canopy above her. There was nothing there, but a slight breeze blew through the trees and sent water droplets down to the forest floor. She began to pack up her things.

It had since moved from the tree, and was now watching her from a greater distance. It was becoming desperate now. It needed to make a kill. The blood-thirsty thing decided to move in on her.

As she was about to sling her bag over her shoulder, a screech erupted from the dark brush and she shot straight up. Did she just imagine that? Her subconscious wanted to tell her so very badly that the sound wasn’t real, but her instincts were pleading otherwise. It sounded again; a blood-chilling, high-pitch shriek that lasted for four seconds. It wasn’t earthly at all. Everything about the sound was alarming and it gave her goose bumps. Something was moving toward her in the distance, the underbrush rustling with every step. It started out slow-paced, and then picked up speed. Something was darting towards her. Julianne, being a skilled outdoorswoman, decided she wasn’t going down without trying, and so she ran in the opposite direction.

Ripping through thorn bushes and tree branches, she was sprinting as fast as she could possibly run. She heard the noise again, but this time it was more of a groan. It was only a couple of yards ahead of her. Ahead? She though to herself. This thing is swift. She strained her eyes in what was now turning into darkness. The sun was sinking away behind the trees. She was left alone, without the comfort of day. A tear streamed down her cheek, past her chin, and gently fell to the ground. She could not speak. She could not move. She could only watch as a clawed forelimb curled around the trunk of an evergreen tree in front of her, and then a second limb appeared. Whatever the thing was, it was clinging to the other side of the tree, hanging there a few feet above the ground. Julianne stood there for a while, tears silently pouring out. She was still paralyzed with fear and could only stand there, forced to watch. The creature made its way down the tree trunk to the forest floor and inched toward her. As it neared, she could barely breathe. The hellish thing was so hideous. She tried to utter “oh my God”, but all that came out of her was a whimper. The creature was now directly in front of her, and it was making sounds -almost like radio static, as if it were responding to her whimpers. Her eyes widened as its own empty eyes peered up at her. It began clicking its insect-like mandibles together, ready to seize her. It fiercely roared and screeched, slicing its front limbs through the air. As Julianne put out her hands to defend herself, she was knocked back by the force of the thing, and she tumbled backwards slamming her head on a large stone. Laying on her back, she began to drift away. She could only feel defeated as she watched the disturbing creature crawl towards her. She closed her eyes and prepared herself to be devoured.

A thick fog permeated the forest and sunlight penetrated the forest canopy, signaling the arrival of day. The sun’s rays beat down on Julianne’s pearly facial features and warmed her cold skin. Her eyes opened wide in sudden terror and she inhaled deeply, coming out of shock. She laid there for a while with her red hair wet and matted to her face, then sat up and looked around. Cardinals and blue jays were singing in the canopy above. It was an altogether brighter day, and She was ecstatic and grateful to be alive. Julianne took off her jacket and checked her body. To her utter surprise, she had no wounds other than a few minor scrapes from the thorn bushes. The creature had left her alone. Barely able to stand up, she limped down the path and made her way through the woods. Shrouded in dense mist, the forest now seemed more like a fairytale. The way back to the parking lot was a long one for Julianne as she marched along the train tracks, head held high, and made it to the jeep. She put the keys in the ignition and sped towards the city.

All Julianne could do when she got home was crawl under the covers while her mind raced. What the hell had attacked her? Where did it come from and why was it there? It was obvious the horrid thing was not of Earth; or at least the elusive predator had not been discovered until now.

Something began to scratch and claw at the bedroom door. Julianne lost her breath and began to shake. She started to sob again and watched in horror as the door creaked open and a dark figure darted across the bedroom floor. She pulled the covers tightly over her head as she felt it crawl into bed with her…and then it began to purr.

“Ash!” she proclaimed, pulling the blanket off. Her cat licked her cheek. She had never felt so relieved in her life. She hugged Ash and wept, rocking back and forth. She kissed the tuxedo cat on his white paws and on his neck.

The feeling of relief subsided when she caught a glimpse of two mantis-like forelimbs slowly curl around the doorframe.

Credit To – Mikey Raube-Boyer

I really need to let this out. I can’t bear to live with what happened that night anymore. Every time I close my eyes I can see the death in her eyes, and the malice in his. I had just recently moved out to Scotland with my fiancé. We had moved to a beautiful town in the North called Elgin. We were two weeks in. Everything was going well, we had settled in just fine. We thought we were going to live a long, happy life here. Oh how wrong we were.

On the third week, strange things started happening to us on one night that would change our lives. My fiancé received a phone call at 4AM, a strange time for anyone to receive a phone call. She looked up, blinded by the light on her mobile and answered with a tired “hello”. This was followed by more “hello’s”, and then she hung up. She said she could only hear a very faint screaming noise in the background of the phone. Unsettled, she turned her phone off so she would not receive a phone call.

5 minutes after the phone call, I received a phone call. This time it was just pure static we could hear, with laughing in the background. I immediately got very angry at this disturbing little game someone was playing with us. I cursed and told them to stop phoning. After that the static stopped, and all that was heard was a huge bang on the front door. We both jumped, she clutched on to me, crying, terrified. I told her everything was going to be all right. I got up, told her to stay there, put on my dressing gown, grabbed a bat and walked to the door. I pulled the curtain covering the window on the door to find a message. The message read “You shouldn’t have left her alone”.

As soon as I finished reading I heard a scream coming from upstairs. I immediately ran upstairs to find myself frozen at the entrance of our bedroom. There my wife was standing, blood dripping from her neck, looking right into my eyes, sobbing for me to help. And there was that thing behind her. That fucking thing that ruined my fucking life. It was a tall completely naked creature, humanoid in shape. It was completely bald and had very skinny limbs, you could almost see it’s bones. Its face was the most horrendous thing I had ever seen in my life. It had a huge smile on its face, stretching right across, and had completely bloodshot eyes, one significantly smaller than the other.

I had never felt this feeling before. I couldn’t do anything. I was literally frozen. I couldn’t even speak, I couldn’t even say how sorry I was, and all I could do was cry. This creature slowly crept towards me, with my fiancé in his clutches. His face came down to my height and he looked right in my eyes. At this point he started to scream, however all that came out of his mouth was static. I was terrified. He ran back very quickly to the window, and jumped out with her. As soon as he left the building I fell to the ground. I jumped up to look outside to see if I could see her with it, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Two days later, I was a wreck. I hadn’t slept; I had just been researching to see if anyone knew what this was, if anyone had ever related to me. I had filed a missing persons report at the local police station who was extensively investigating the disappearance. Nobody had ever heard of this thing that I had seen. A month had gone by, nothing had happened. I hadn’t been working, I had barely slept. I could barely live anymore. I took a razor blade to my wrists. As the blood seeped from my wound, it felt like all of the pain of the past events was flowing away, I looked up from the bathroom sink to the mirror, and he was there. Smiling just like before. Blood dripped from his eyes as he held my fiancé’s head up, severed from the body. Again he screamed static and I fell to the floor.

I felt my body growing weak as my wrists bled. I was terrified to look at the mirror, but I felt I had to. As I slowly rose from the ground my reflection matched his. I was looking right into his eyes, where my eyes should have been, where my body should have been. I slowly raised my hand and in the reflection I was holding her head. As I looked to my right hand there it was. I was holding my wife’s head. I screamed and dropped it, but my screams were static. As the blood began running thick and black, I knew I was coming close to the end. I felt my body going cold. Surely I couldn’t have killed my fiancé. Surely not. I fell asleep.

I woke up in a hospital bed, confused, wrists bandaged. As I awoke, two police man walked into the room and told me they had some questions for me. They told me her head was found in my house, and that I was not going to be going anywhere for a while. They told me to rest and that they would come back later. As they  walked out of the room, one of them turned round and said, “Oh and one last thing,” His mouth then opened incredibly wide and the only sound that filled the room was pure static.

I was usually the type to stay out of trouble and away from danger but Jim on the other hand, was the rebellious type. Usually a long-time friend can pursued you into doing pretty much anything, and Jim was the master when it came to that.

Jim and I had been friends since we were two years young, now a decade has passed and we’ve stuck by each other’s sides ever since then. We went on adventures just about every day. Sometimes they got us into trouble but for the most part Jim respected and understood my “play it safe” way of life. But for some reason, I could care less that day. It was as though something possessed me into doing something wrong just for the thrill of it.

We had been walking home from school together when Jim and I passed up a very dark and unfamiliar-looking carnival. That day seemed to have been the brightest day of the year but ironically enough, from the carnival on there were nothing but gray skies. Jim hesitantly followed as I walked over to the entrance. A generic “DO NOT ENTER” sign that ran across the entrance was being held up by a rusty chain fell to pieces once I tapped the sign.

“Whadd’ya say we check it out?” I asked as I turned towards Jim.
Something seemed very eerie about that moment. Jim’s face was awfully pale and he seemed to be sweating bullets.
“Hey man, we’d better not. I don’t like the vibe I’m getting off this place.” He said in an extremely frightened tone.
Jim proceeded to walk away but something made me grab his arm and pull him back.
“Aw c’mon, we haven’t had a good adventure in a while. Where’s your excitement at? It’s not like anything bad’s gonna happen, I’m here.” I continued to try and pursued my reluctant friend with a very promising smile as he would usually do to me.

After a while he finally gave in and we entered the shady carnival. It was unlike any entrance I’d ever seen. It seemed to be some sort of labyrinth that lead to nowhere. The walls were lofty, dried up bushes filled with an infinite amount of thorns that were impossible to break through. Jim just silently followed without looking back as we began our new adventure. Suddenly after the first turn in, Jim and I felt a dark presence that we followed like robots turn by turn.

The leaves suddenly began to grow darker with each turn until they were black. The faint smell of something burning began to take over and by the next five turns, it was unbearable. I had never smelled burning flesh but I assumed that was what we smelled.

The ground felt as though it were going to break right under us if we stepped just a little harder. The temperature began to change as Jim and I stood still. It grew so intensely hot that we became nearly dehydrated almost instantly.

“I-I think we s-should turn around.” Jim said in a frightened and shaky voice. He looked as though his soul was leaving his body at that very moment.

“Uh good idea” I agreed but as we turned around, we noticed that our path had been blocked by a wall of barely burnt out thorns that we couldn’t even see the top of. We had no choice but the walk further.
I didn’t think it was possible but the smell of burning flesh had grown so strong that without even thinking about it I vomited due to the fact that I could taste the smell. Suddenly a soft roar started escalating until I couldn’t make out what Jim was trying to tell me. The sound seemed to be made up of a million screams that shot a knife of terror through my heart which made me take off running out of instinct. Without looking back I kept running, hoping to whatever god that was out there that Jim was right behind me.

I felt as though I had been running for hours until the smell had died down as well as the horrible screams. I couldn’t hear footsteps behind so I panicked and looked around for Jim. All that was behind me was that damn wall, mocking me. Again, I had no choice but to keep walking.

I couldn’t tell the time of day because the sky was just a solid gray in all directions as far as the eye could see. The leaves started to regain color and were a healthy green. The atmosphere felt perfect besides the fact that he sky was as dark as ever. The next turn lead me to a merry-go-round. I couldn’t really tell whether or not it was spinning until I looked at it for a while. Slowly but surely the abnormally large ride was spinning.

The size wasn’t the only abnormality of the merry-go-round; all of the animals appeared to be sheep. But they had a very sad and painful look to them, as though within the ride. The sheep were missing different body parts but they all had one thing in common, they had deep black and seemingly endless holes for eyes. Some of them were missing patches, if not all, of their knotted and filthy fur.  The bare sheep’s skin was rather dull and extremely dry looking; some of the even had rotting flesh. I then realized that these were once, if not still, live animals. They seemed to barely be hanging on the ride by rusted poles piercing their bodies with enormous scabs building up around the exit wounds.

I suddenly noticed a new animal coming around the corner; it was a wolf. Its eyes, hyper realistic, such a captivating red color I swear they could’ve grabbed my soul right from my body if I stared long enough. Discolored flesh dangled from its mouth. Some was even pouring out of a hole in its neck which gave me another urge to vomit had it not been for what I saw following the head. Jim was on the back of the wolf. His eyes mocked the wolf’s and his skin was not a normal pale color, it had a sort of gray and lifeless tint to it.

Jim wore a slight smile that made me scream at the sight of it for some odd reason. He seemed startled by my outburst and slowly turned just his head towards me. If I didn’t know Jim my whole life, I wouldn’t have been able to recognize him.

“What are you?” I asked in terror hoping I didn’t regret what had just come out of my mouth.
“What do you mean? I’m your longtime friend.” His tone was monotonous and his voice was abnormally deep for a twelve year old. His eyes seemed to be staring off deeply in another universe.

“Well? Don’t you want to ride with me? It’s loads of fun; you can trust me can’t you? It’s me, Jim.”
A sudden force took over my body and I walked over to Jim reaching his hand out. I tried to stop but I couldn’t. As I stepped on the platform, everything but the merry-go-round grew pitch black. I was indeed terrified but I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even feel myself breathing.

Jim had a pleased yet horrifying look on his face as I walked passed him and got on a sheep. The pole was so rusted that it turned my hands almost completely orange. The fur and skin of the sheep was so rough that it cut me instantly. The same burning flesh smell was back and was as prominent as ever.

The ride’s speed began to increase once I was locked on the ride and a familiar roar of a million screams started up again. The cries were so high pitched I could swear my ears were going to bleed any second. I couldn’t move or let go of the ride. I couldn’t cover my ears, mouth or nose to keep these awful things from entering my body.

It seemed as though we were about to his light speed and I closed my eyes and screamed as loud as I could since that’s all I was capable of. Jim hadn’t made any sort of movement or sound.

The ride finally stopped and so did the sound and smell. My eyes were still shut and I had suddenly fallen to the ground. I gained to strength to open my eyes once more and I saw that I was out of the labyrinth. I sat almost lifeless in the middle of the dirt road right outside of it for hours until I finally snapped out of whatever shock I was in and ran home faster than I’d ever run before.

I tried to tell my parents what I had been through, why I was gone so long and what had happened to Jim. They just gave me a very concerned look and pointed at the clock, “Sweetheart, t-this is the time you usually get home from school. And who is Jim? Are you sure you went to school today instead of sleeping all day? You might’ve dreamt that.” My mother said in a very worried tone.

Why didn’t they believe me? It really happened, had I been cursed by that damn labyrinth, or carnival? Whatever the hell that thing was, what did it do to me?

“Are you kidding me? I’ve known Jim my whole life! You guys even grew up with his parents! I’ll take you to his house right now!” I screamed so loud that tears began to run down my face.
They insisted I had a very realistic dream and left it at that. Something was very off about that moment. I didn’t understand why my parents couldn’t remember Jim.

I bolted out of my house and straight to Jim’s. His parents had no idea who I was and had never had a son named Jim. They had a three year old daughter named Lila. I couldn’t comprehend what exactly was going on or what I was feeling. I just knew that what I just experienced actually happened. I knew that I wasn’t making my lifelong friend up, I couldn’t have been. I even still had the wounds and rust stains on my but no one else could see them. Jim, where did you go?

After a few days my parents stopped listening to me. I tried to show them the carnival but I was the only one that could see it. Not too soon after that, I seemed to be the only one that could see me as well. I tried to talk to my parents but nothing happened. I stuck around to see if they were even concerned that I wasn’t around anymore but it was as though I had never existed. I even vanished from the family photos. No remembered neither Jim nor I.

I returned to the carnival once more. As I entered my new home, I placed a new “DO NOT ENTER” sign back up the next person that comes across it will heed it’s warning.

I finally reached the merry-go-round again. There he was, Jim, still riding the lone-wolf. Though there was something different about him, he developed sheep-like features and looked as though he were rotting from the inside out. I looked into a small mirror on the ride and noticed I looked the same. Jim didn’t speak to me, he didn’t look at me, he didn’t even move. I tried to talk to him but he couldn’t hear me, I couldn’t even hear me. I tried to push him off the ride but I just fell through him.

Before I take my place on the ride, I’m writing this and sending it off on some balloons that greeted me by the entrance, possibly for this very purpose. If someone is  indeed reading this, please, “DO NOT ENTER”.

Credit To: Kristal G.

Funny how things can change, isn’t it?

I’m a careless person.  I leave things for weeks at a time, and sometimes never come back to them at all.  There are things I’ve lost in my own bedroom that I gave up searching for years ago.  It’s not that my bedroom is particularly big or messy, just that I really have a hard time keeping track of anything.  Sometimes my losing things seems to be almost supernatural.  Once, as a test, I placed a fork (something easily noticeable) alone in a cardboard box on the floor of my room.  I didn’t pay it any mind for a week or so; then, upon checking the box, I was startled to see it had vanished.  The bare bottom was entirely visible.  I don’t live with any roommates or family members, so someone else seeing it and picking it up is extremely unlikely.

However, my ability to lose almost anything and everything can lead to blessings.  I’ve found things I’d never known I’d owned, and if I hadn’t been searching for my car keys underneath my bed on a frustrated, rushing Tuesday morning, I may never have seen the girl beneath my bed.

At first all that was visible in the dusty environs below my mattress were two cream-white arms, the skin of which looked smoother than the surface of a porcelain bowl.  I had gotten her attention with my rustling around her, so she regarded me with eyes that looked like cool river water with flecks of gold beneath the ripples.  Before the rational response of incredulousness at a person living below where I slept, I fell in love with the woman.  Her appearance, at least.

I tried speaking to her, but she seemed to be in some sort of daze.  Wielding a light, I crawled deeper under the bedframe to get a better look at my room’s secret tenant.  As I came closer, I realized that a multitude of items I had been looking for were  crowded near the girl, as if she had stockpiled them.  My car keys were in this grouping and I snatched them up quickly, remembering for a second that I was unequivocally late for work.  I thought of this only a second, however, because the moment I lifted the keys from the dirty carpet under-bed, the being that lay catatonic beside the pile began screeching in an inexplicable frenzy.

The sound was like a high-frequency pitch of television fuzz.  I slammed my hands over my ears in an attempt to protect them, dropping the flashlight as I did.  When it landed near the assortment of objects collected by the girl, the howling woman seemed to fall back into reality and quieted down.  She made a few confused huffs that sounded suspiciously like the fussing of an infant.  Thoroughly bewildered and curious as I was, I wanted to stay and learn why there was a strange, inhuman woman in my room and how long she had been here, but my work was indeferable and the threat of losing it so great that I had no choice but to leave this creature where she lay.  If she had been here for some time already, as it seemed to me, it wouldn’t hurt to leave her until I returned.

Tired and lethargic as working always makes me, I didn’t at once remember the girl when I got back.  Instead, I spent a good deal of time drinking beer and commenting on Facebook pictures.  It was nearly 8:00 when I placed my cellphone beside me on the bed, only to hear it ring with a text message moments later.  My hand went instantly to the place it remembered putting it, but when it grasped instinctively it held nothing, like claw machines at supermarkets seem to do on every occasion.

The ringing continued; I was now getting a call.  But the sound was muted.  My memory jumped as if recoiling, and I recalled the strange meeting I had under my bed that morning.  For a moment’s hesitation, my skin grew taut with cold and realization; she was totally silent below, as if she wasn’t there at all.

 I found another flashlight and dove beneath the slats to reclaim my newest lost possession.

 Unexpectedly, I was met with a wall of random affairs that weren’t placed in such a manner before I’d left.  Maybe I’d gotten the girl’s attention, at long last, or maybe she rearranged my room each time I went out.  I honestly wouldn’t have noticed, being the type of person to let sleeping dogs lie.  Clearing the stuff took a few seconds, but once I could see the wall my bed was situated against—

I could see the wall.
The girl was gone.

I backed out hastily from my prone position, getting up to a kneel, looking about my room in confusion, and seeing the girl laying, as she had underneath, atop the covers of my bed.

Now that I could see her in the more diffused light from my lamp, I saw things that made me shudder, literally- a sunken in face that had no discernible lips, the nose scabbed over badly and almost completely gone, her eyes closed but the lids translucent.  She was gaunt, cheekbones blade-sharp from hunger and her hair short wires that existed only in clumps.  Her body was in a worse way, and entirely visible due to her nakedness.  In place of nipples she had disgusting black charred spots, all the more juxtaposed by her cadaverous white skin, and no breasts to speak of.  She was beyond albino, nearly the color of undirtied snow.  Her legs were bones with skin, the same as her arms.  Her right hand’s fingers had been cut to the second knuckle, and what looked like construction nails acted as substitutes for the natural digits.  It was in this hand that the creature clutched my phone.

Rationally, I knew that calling the police was the only thing I could do to stop this horror show.  Being only freshly out of college, I was in a poor economic state and couldn’t afford a landline.  I lived in a cheap house in a new development of cheap houses, and I knew my nearest neighbors were either fugitives from the law or similarly unable to spare a telephone.  I was wary of the girl’s screams.  Pacing the room, I thought.  When I watched the girl, it seemed that she leered at me through her vitreous palpebra with her insect eyes.  I shook.  Perhaps, I reasoned, if I could quickly switch the phone with this flashlight…

Steadily I approached, my hands prepped to act as quick as necessary.  With my left hand I grasped the torch, and with my right, I neared her milk-white skin.  Closer…

The lids flew open.  Black eyes.  She shrieked.  I was impaled by her nailed hands.  I slid to the floor.  She seemed totally awake now, and slid languidly off the bed.  She gazed down upon me, crumpled on the floor, totally paralyzed by fear.  Her cracked mouth betrayed no emotion, but it opened and emitted a subhuman hiss.  Just before she descended upon me with tooth and literal nail, I looked to the corner of the room.  There sat my iPod, headphones and all.  Oh there it is, I thought, rapturous for a moment.  I’ve been looking for that for ages.

Credit To: Hloobs

Vincent Cox turned off the lights in his hardware store. He zipped up his black, fleece jacket and walked out into the cold, lonely night. He fumbled for the keys in the pocket of his jeans shivering slightly. He finally fished a rusted, copper key and locked the front entrance door. He sighed and started to walk home.

As he was walking down the sidewalk something in the sidewalk glinted dully catching his eye. Next to a sewage drainage was a small black ball. He curiously shuffled over to the ball, knelt down and touched the ball. There was gust of cold wind and Vincent shivered and glanced nervously behind him. He felt like he was being watched. Quickly he picked up the ball and examined it. It was an eight ball.

The whole ball was smooth like it had never been used before. He looked into the small triangle glass and was intrigued when he noticed that the word “Yes” behind the glass were glowing brightly in the dark. He decided to ask the ball a simple yes or no question.
“Am I wearing a black jacket?”
Vincent shook the ball and looked into the glass.
“Definitely” was what came up. Vincent smiled. It was just one of those coincidences, so he decided to ask another one.
“Am I in a relationship with anyone”
Vincent knew he wasn’t in a relationship with anyone. He wasn’t much of a social man.
“I don’t know” the ball replied.
Vincent asked another question on whether he supported Obama. Again the ball answered “I don’t know”. Vincent asked more questions about his personal life and no matter how hard or fast he shook the ball again and again it came up as “I don’t know”. Finally Vincent sighed and decided to ask different questions.
“Am I boy?”
“Certainly”
Vincent paused for a while. “Weird” he thought. Vincent asked another.
“Am I listening to my IPod?”
“No”
“Is it nighttime”
“Definitely”
Vincent shivered.
“Am I holding an eight ball?”
“Of course”
Vincent was feeling colder now and he thought he heard a rustling sound just in front of him. He couldn’t see anything much in the darkness except for a house surrounded by small bushes and trees. He flipped out his cellphone and turned it on “lantern”. But still there was nothing he could see. He instinctively looked back to where his store was and tried to see anything strange. Nothing. Shakily he started to walk back to his house. Vincent asked one more question
“Am I walking to my house?”
“Yes”
Vincent started to walk faster.

As he was walking to his house he would occasionally glance behind him feeling like someone was watching him, trying to catch up to him. When he reached his front door he impatiently jabbed his key into the keyhole missing a few times before putting it perfectly into the hole. When he unlocked the door, he swung it open and quickly shut it behind him. Locking the door, Vincent ran into the kitchen and grabbed a kitchen knife. He felt stupid, but he pushed out this thought. Slowly he slid the knife into its case and then put the knife securely in his pocket. He swore he heard scraping and bumping out in his front door but he resisted the temptation to go check. Instead he walked into his bathroom, turned on the lights and closed the door, locking it. He decided to ask a question.
“Am I at home right now?”
“Yes”
Vincent tapped his thumbs tensely.
“Am I eating anything?”
“I don’t know”
“Am I in the living room?”
“I don’t know”
Then suddenly he heard the front door burst open and footsteps coming through the entrance. Vincent held his breath, his face going pale. He slammed off the lights in the bathroom and hid himself behind the sink waiting, clutching his kitchen knife. He heard the footsteps passing his bathroom. The footsteps entered into the living room, and then they stopped. He felt the ball in his hand move slightly. Vincent took a look at the ball and his heart almost skipped a beat.
“Definitely Not”

He heard footsteps again, walking up the stairs. Vincent made his escape. He ran out the bathroom and out the front door. He ran out onto the streets and back to where the stores were.
“Are you still trying to find me?”
“Of course”

When he reached his store he looked around him. Across from his hardware store was an old magic shop. The door was slightly ajar.
“Are you still at my house?” Vincent asked
“Haha no”
“Are you coming to get me?”
“Yes”
“Do you know where I am”
“Most likely”
“Should I be afraid?”
“Of course”

He pushed his way into the store and flipped on the light switch. The lights failed to turn on so Vincent flashed out his cellphone and turned on “Lantern” mode. Breathing heavily he scanned the large store looking in shock. The whole store was trashed. Vincent then jumped back in horror as he saw the dead body of the manager. He walked over to the body and saw a piece of paper in one hand and a transparent blade of a knife in the other. Vincent hastily snatched the blade and rubbed, with his pointer finger, along the flat side of the blade. For a second all fear vanished inside of him. The blade glowed suddenly with a low hum. A beautiful white light shined into Vincent’s eyes making him close them tightly. When his eyes readjusted he marveled at the beauty of the light.
It was a light of hope, the absence of darkness. Just then Vincent was startled by the noise of footsteps entering the store. There was low, terrifying grunt. Fear took over Vincent again causing the blade to lose its light, leaving him with only his cellphone. He flipped it off and slowly backed into the very back of the store.
“Are you going to try to kill me now?”
“Very good chance”

He pocketed the eight ball in his jacket. His left hand slowly slid out the kitchen knife in its case while clutching the transparent blade with his right. He slowly paced around randomly along the shelves and messes. He didn’t know whether to sneak out or try stabbing the creature from behind. The footsteps and the grunts were coming closer and closer. Vincent prepared himself. He waited patiently behind an old shelf of cards. Cautiously, Vincent leaned his head out of the left catching a glimpse of the creature from the side. It looked like a huge ragdoll. Its mouth was wide open; its jaws hanging low. That’s all that Vincent could make out it the dark. Quickly, Vincent pulled his head back behind the shelf. His breathing grew more rapid. He was on breaking point.

“3…2…1…” Vincent jumped out behind the creature lunging the knife into the creature’s head.

The beast stumbled backwards howling. It slammed against the wall. Regaining its balance, Vincent watched frozen in dread as the creature sluggishly pulled the knife of its head. The creature started to laugh madly. It tossed the knife at Vincent who ducked to the right just in the nick of time. The knife wound on the creature slowly stitched back up and the creature pounced onto Vincent while he screamed. Vincent was knocked back, bumping into a shelf. The shelf rocked a little causing a bucket to drop onto the creature’s head

The creature’s grasp loosened and Vincent broke free. He grabbed the shelf and pushed it over onto the creature. It moved furiously as it deliberately tried to free himself form the shelf. Vincent felt a twinge of bravery and suddenly the blade shined a gorgeous beam of white light.
Taking out the eight ball Vincent said triumphantly,
“Do you think you’re still going to kill me?”
“I don’t know”

Vincent held the blade high in the air throwing light on the ceiling and slammed it down on the creature’s “neck” just as it struggled to get out. The blade of the knife sunk into the creature’s neck filling his whole body with light. The creature shrieked and bellowed as he flopped around like a fish on land before disappearing completely. It was over. Vincent sighed and nervously chuckled.
Then he remembered that there was piece of paper on the dead manager. He made his way towards the body, feeling sorry for the man before curiously picking up the paper. Anxiously he read it aloud “I didn’t know it would turn out like this. What have I done? It’s going to eat my soul and it’s going to eat yours. Please do something” Vincent’s head was filled with questions but he decided that bliss was ignorance. He slowly put the paper into his pocket.

Vincent quickly took out the eight ball. Standing completely still Vincent asked it a final question.
“Am I doing jumping jacks while singing All You Need is Love by the Beatles?”
Vincent shook the ball nervously and it answered the question in one word:
“Of course”

– Brian Alexander

Credit To: Deadlights911
Credit Link: kirbster51@gmail.com

The following is based on true events.

On October 31th 2004, it was reported that 6 young adults had perished on the Uhkaava mountain pass in the northern wilderness of Finland. News reports excerpts stated “… four males and two females tragically lost their lives following an expedition… made the discovery 50km southeast of Ivalo… [believed] to have perished following unfavourable [weather] conditions…”.

The news reports did not delve into details regarding the specifics of the tragedy. Grieving family and friends of the deceased were informed by investigators that the group had got into difficultly during the early hours of Wednesday 27th October after a small avalanche descended onto their camp. Death was caused by hypothermia in all cases with the exception of Anni Järvinen whose demise was found to be the result of cerebral hemorrhaging caused by blunt force trauma to her right temporal bone. This was attributed to debris, possibly a large rock or tree branch, propelled at speed through the avalanche. No further details were disclosed.

Authorities and law enforcement officers found the ruined camp after being made aware of potential missing persons by concerned friends who informed them that the group failed to contact them on neither the 29th nor 30th October to confirm that they had returned safely from the wilderness.

The six deceased were transported to their respective home towns to be claimed by their immediate kin. All six were transported in closed caskets which remained closed. Authorities cited the poor conditions of the bodies, exposed for too long to the relentless elements before discovery, as the reasoning behind this. Many people were of the belief that the bodies should in fact have been preserved in good condition but the stricken emotions of the bereaved meant that they did not voice any objections and cause further stress. The bodies were buried and the tragedy receded into memory for all but the closest family members.

It has since been discovered that this information does not amount to the full story of what occurred on that fateful night.

Withheld information and retrospective investigations, the results and conclusions of which were secreted away in an archive until now, paint a very different picture of the events which occurred. Presented for your consideration are those missing facts, alongside conjectures and suppositions designed to recreate, in so much as is possible, the true nature of the circumstances which transpired on October 26th and 27th 2004 on the Uhkaava Pass.

The six deceased in question are: Manu Okkonen, 23, studied for an MA in architectural design, Lempi Litmanen, 19, studied for a BA in Finnish language, the aforementioned Anni Järvinen, 20, studied for a BSc in geology, Jaak Ilves, 20, also studied for a BSc in geology, Raine Järvinen, 20, studied for a BSc in electrical engineering and Ole Aadland, 21, a Norwegian who studied in the School of Medicine at the University of Tampere. Manu, Lempi, twins Anni and Raine, and Jaak (an Estonian national) all studied at the University of Oulu.

Subsequent interviews conducted among staff and students of both universities have been used herewith to help piece together the components of a bizarre puzzle and the conjectures which will follow in due course. All six students lived on their respective campuses and all lived long distances away from their families. The funerals afforded the authorities time for unofficial searches of their dorms and to conduct interviews away from the watchful gazes of inquisitive families, some unsatisfied with the information released to them. It also allowed authorities to complete their investigations of the dorms of the deceased before relatives were afforded the opportunity to claim the possessions of the dead. Certain known possessions, including diaries, were never claimed by families and have never been accounted for.

The five attendees of the university of Oulu were a tight-knit group. They were popular among their peers (with the exception of Jaak, who had gothic tendencies which were the subject of some ridicule by other students) and they spent much of their leisure time together. They were an active bunch, fond of pursuits including hiking, ski-boarding, rock-climbing and abseiling. Weekend sojourns to locations suited for these activities were a common occurrence for the five. Analysis of evidence has revealed that between the 12th and 15th of October a 6 day long trip, to coincide with midterm break, was planned. The trek was to commence on the 23rd October with the group due to return to the university on 29th October.

The five diligently planned their junket. They were experienced adventurers and were only too aware of the potential dangers that awaited them. They laboriously planned every aspect of their trip and inventoried absolutely all equipment and gear which was to be taken on the trip.

On the 15th of October, Manu Okkonen received an email from Ole Aadland. The two were good friends from Ole’s time in the University of Oulu where Ole studied for one year before relocating to the University of Tampere. At the time, (before the other deceased members commenced third level studies) both Manu and Ole were integrated into a large fraternity who liked to make the most of their weekends: partying, pranks, girls and occasionally sports. Manu and Ole in particular, along with (NAME WITHELD) had a passion for outdoor activities. Manu’s passion would eventually infect the rest of Uhkaava mountain pass party. Manu invited Ole to join the planned trip. Ole accepted.

At 9.30am on Saturday October 23rd, the Uhkaava mountain pass party convened on the grounds of the University of Oulu. Ole was introduced by Manu to the other members of the group for the first time. They set off on their trip at 9.40am.

The intervening days between October 23rd and October 26th are believed to have passed without much incident, with one notable exception. The group travelled in two cars and made their way north to the town of Ivalo (located approximately 500km away from Oulu). They arrived there two days later on October 25th. The group are known to have visited several bars in Ivalo before retiring for the night. It is believed that at some point Ole and Jaak almost came to physical blows. This is believed to have been caused by simmering, underlying tensions between the two (Ole disliked Jaak’s gothic lifestyle and believed him also to be a homosexual). The situation was only exacerbated by alcohol and it is thought that Manu and Raine helped to maintain the peace. The group set off early the next day in a southeasterly direction. It was in this isolation that they intended to rock-climb and snow-board. They also intended to spend their first and only night outdoors.

The group are believed to have enjoyed a successful day of activities. At approximately 4pm they arrived at the Uhkaava pass where they decided to set up camp. A forested area lay beyond the pass but Manu felt that it was too risky to travel further for the shelter as nightfall was rapidly approaching. The campsite was made on the pass at the base of a steep slope with a river located 200m away and a few lone trees dotted around the pass.

The group stayed together in one large tent as the collective temperature produced by body heat was greater than if spread over two or three individual tents. Digital imagery recovered from the scene showed that the group had a meal at 8.30pm and, sat around a paraffin lamp, proceeded to imbibe alcohol until approximately 11.30pm. The group sang songs and played games before retiring to sleep, most drowsy from the effects of alcohol. The paraffin lamp remained illuminated throughout the night. DNA analysis showed that Manu and Lempi shared the same sleeping bag and had sexual intercourse. It is presumed this occurred when the others fell asleep. Semen belonging to Jaak and found in the stomach of Raine indicates that they too had a sexual tryst after awaking briefly some time between 12.45am and 1.00am.

At 1:58am, an incident occurred which caused the entire group to suddenly evacuate the tent. It was significant enough to prompt everyone involved to step outside into estimated temperatures of -22°C without stopping for long enough to collect warmer clothing on the way out. They were outside for approximately 90 seconds before returning to inside the tent. Images found on Ole’s cellular phone showed that he attempted, probably in a haste, to take photos of Lempi who appeared to be wearing only a brassiere at the time. His attempts were somewhat unsuccessful as an object (probably his thumb) partially obscured the lens which resulted in partial images of her naked buttocks. It is believed that he snapped these pictures unbeknownst to Lempi or any of the rest of the group.

Further digital imagery reveals that the group joked and laughed, possibly to brush off the incident, and seemed in high spirits before returning to sleep.

The cause of this initial evacuation remains unknown.

Analysis of the scene suggests that a light snow fell between 2.30am and 3.15am concealing most of the original tracks and footprints. It did not snow again between the time of the incident and the discovery of the bodies.

An avalanche did not take place, this was a fabrication on the part of the investigators.

At some time between 3.25am and 3.35am, the fatal events unfolded. The body of Anni Järvinen was discovered 20m away from the tent. She was found wearing a t-shirt, pyjama bottoms and one thermal sock. It was initially believed that as she fled from the tent in the darkness, she ran headlong into a single tree, fracturing her skull and fatally wounding her. However, an inspection of the ground showed her footprints moving just past, and not into, the tree in question before falling from her injury. The injury stemmed from another source.

The bodies of Raine Järvinen and Jaak Ilves were found in each other’s arms some 540m away from the camp site. They both died of hypothermia. Jaak wore only his nighttime attire and a bobble hat, Raine wore nighttime attire and also a coat and his unlaced boots. It appeared that he attempted to keep Jaak warm by drawing him into his unzipped coat. Further anaylsis of Jaak’s body showed that he had sustained two non-fatal injuries; a broken rib and a severed tongue. It is believed he unintentionally bit off his own tongue. Jaak was introduced to Raine through Raine’s sister Anni, with whom Jaak shared his geology classes. Their sexual orientation and fondness for one another was never known by anyone, not even Anni.

The body of Manu Okkonen was found beside the partially collapsed and partially burnt tent. He wore only boxer shorts and a t-shirt. He, like Anni, died from trauma to the cranium. However, the trauma he suffered was far more severe. An apparent blow to the head completely caved in the left side of his head, knocking out an eyeball, most of his teeth, fragments of skull and a large portion of brain matter. The cause of the trauma is unknown. Found embedded in the remains of his head was one solitary hair. The hair was 5 inches long and thick like that of animal. The hair was jet black with veins of a turquoise pigment running through the length of the hair. Scientists have determined that the hair is organic in descent and not man-made. The species from which it came is unknown.

The body of Ole Aadland was discovered in the river, some 600m downstream. He had drowned. He was found wearing a one-piece pjyama suit, boots and a trapper hat and a zipper hoodie which forensics later discovered both belonged to Anni. Traces of Anni’s blood were found on the right shoulder of the hoodie. The hat had also been severely damaged and contained Anni’s blood and hair. It has been determined that both Anni and Ole fled from the tent in a similar direction. Ole, who had picked up a hatchet during his escape, struck Anni the fatal below with the blunt edge of the weapon. He removed her hoodie and hat and, donning both items to help maintain warmth in the extreme cold, continued his escape towards the river. Analysis of his footprints on the riverbank reveal that he stopped, looked back towards the camp as if considering his options before committing himself to the plunge. He drifted downstream until the hood of Anni’s hoodie, snagged a fallen tree below the surface of the water. In darkness and panicking, Ole struggled to free himself but only served to also catch the sleeve of the hoodie on the fallen tree. Trapped beneath the surface of the water, he quickly drowned. The discarded hatchet, upon which were traces of Anni’s blood, was found discarded on the riverbank next to Ole’s footprints.

The body of Lempi Litmanen was never recovered. No footprints matching hers were discovered at the scene. An inspection of artifacts at the site by authorities also leads them to believe that she was still wearing only a brassiere when she disappeared. Two weeks after the initial investigation, authorities covertly performed another search of the site. A severed hand was found in a tree 1km from the campsite. Many of the lower branches up to a height of five metres were broken. They were subjected to an extreme weight or pressure. The hand belonged to Lempi.

Rigorous examinations of the tent and its contents were carried out. It was initially assumed that the partial burning of the canvas had resulted from an accidental overturning of the paraffin lamp as the group rushed out of their quarters during the second evacuation. This notion has since been scuppered by compelling evidence that suggests Manu intentionally ignited the material but the fire failed to take. The reason for this arson is unknown. Aside from minor burns and damaged doors, the tent showed no other indications of compromise.

Authorities originally suspected that Ole Aadland was responsible for the gruesome events at Uhkaava Pass. However, whilst responsible for the manslaughter of Anni Järvinen, he has been eliminated as the cause of the devastation. It has been established that he was the second to leave the tent after Anni and his tracks continued only one way to the river.

Attacks from hostile locals or wild fauna such as lynx, wolverine or bear have also been eliminated as triggers for the destruction. No foreign human or animal prints were found at the scene. The group also had a hunting rifle (licenced to Manu Okkonen who was a very capable hunter) and two Bowie knives within the tent. It would appear that no attempt was made to utilize these weapons for self-defence despite the fact they were close to hand. In fact, the only item missing from the tent was the hatchet.

The last piece of evidence present at the scene was a claw mark which ripped though the inner door of the tent. The claw mark entered the door near its top and travelled downwards leaving the material dangling in ribbons. The inner door was never unzipped as the group were able to move through the tattered remains of the inner door unimpeded. Again, officials had believed a carnivore may have been responsible for the devastation but an inspection of the claw mark revealed it was one swipe made from an animal with seven claws on one appendage. The door, while in its taut and undamaged state, would allow for one swipe and no more. The presence of seven claws ruled out any local fauna which would have a maximum of five. The lack of any DNA evidence also aided in eliminating a local predator as the culprit as no hair, saliva etc was found. The only item found was the unidentifiable black-blue hair on Manu’s body.

Anni was known to be the first to exit the tent during the second evacuation. She forced her way through the sealed outer door without undoing the zipper. Damage to the zipper, blood (identified as Anni’s) on the zipper-teeth and a small, fresh wound on her arm, confirm this theory. What remains a topic of debate amongst certain authorities is the nature of the claw mark. It was determined to have struck the inner door of the tent from within. Anni Järvinen fled through the tattered inner door and burst through the secure outer door. The others quickly followed.

While the authorities do not know the cause of the destruction that night on the Ukhaava Pass, one irrefutable, disturbing fact remains: the attack originated from inside the tent.

Credit To: afish

You’re working alone in the office late one night when you hear the old fax machine start running. Surprised, you go to check what has printed to see a photo of the building you are working in taken from across the street with your office light the only one on. The photo is time stamped at one hour ago. Unusual, but easily explained you thought as you return to your desk to finalize your work so you could get home soon.

Back at your desk, you hear the sound of the fax machine starting up again. Annoyed by the interruption you go over to check it only to see a photo of the inside of the building, time stamped 30 minutes ago. What the hell. Anyone could have put the dates on these old photos, and they are just trying to fuck with you, you rationalize. But as you reach for the switch to turn off the machine, it starts up instantly and one last photo comes through. It’s a photo of you standing at the fax machine. As suddenly, all the lights in the building switch off.

Credit To: Jack

First of all, I want to stress the fact that this is a real happening. This is not some story written to get what I write on to a public medium. I am only doing this because I think the story needs to be told. The events that I am about to describe took place by the account of my brother in law. All I have is his story and the fear on his face when he entered my house that afternoon in the fall of 2007. The story is as follows.

My sister, along with her new husband and child, had just moved into a house about a half a mile down the road from my own. A month had passed and, from what they had told me, they were settling in nicely. At the time I was living with my parents after just graduating high school and trying to build up money for college. I was busy doing the dishes when I saw my brother in law, Richard, walking in a hurried fashion from his car, up my dirt driveway, under the porch and stopping in front of the door. The entranceway was a French door so anyone walking towards the house was easily seen. He looked at me and sweat was pouring from his face. Concerned, I walked over and let him in asking if everything was ok. He pushed his way around me and made his way to the sink, where he quickly grabbed a cup and poured a glass from the tap. He moved over to table and took a seat guzzling the water down as if he had just run a marathon, then abruptly set down the cup and stared into nothing. My sister walked through the door next. She had been taking the car seat from the back of her Dodge neon and was a few steps behind her husband. She came in, gave me a look of concern, and went about setting her child, who was sitting in the car seat, and diaper bag on the table. She sat down and clasped her hands together looking at Richard with a frown on her face.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I slid the chair at the tables head and sat down with caution. Richard never looked at me. Cassie, my sister, turned her head towards me, her eyes welling with tears.

“You’re not going to believe it.” She said. Her voice cracked as she placed her hand over her mouth. She turned to her husband and nudged his shoulder. “Tell him Rich.”

Richard just sat there. His eyes focused on a point in space only he could see. His mind, as far as I could tell, was trying to puzzle out what had just taken place. I leaned my head in the path of his starring and broke him free of his thoughts.

“Rich?” I said in a calm tone. “What happened?” He took a deep breath and told me the following.

He had been raking leaves in his yard for the better part of the day, arranging them in piles to be picked up later and placed into a garbage pail. The goal was to arrange all of the leaves in a large pile and burn it during the winter when friends and family come over for coffee and general visiting. This was common practice of families in my town and Richard wanted a piece of that nostalgia for himself. After sectioning off the small piles he took a seat on the stairs that led to his front door and admired his work. He told me that he was thinking about how he was finally a homeowner and his thoughts at the time were of the future for his family and himself. The story continued. He sat there on his stoop for a few minutes when his father’s car entered the driveway and parked. His father got out and walked over to sit with him on the stairs.

“Yard work huh?” His father asked as he bent his knees to rest on the step beside his son with a grunt of old age. Richard nodded his head and his father began to talk to him. He spoke about how difficult it was to raise a family and how, if he could do it over again, he would have washed his hands of the whole ordeal entirely and lived his life alone. He said to Richard that it would be better to live alone. Richard grew uncomfortable and began to tell his father about how he was happy and wouldn’t have it any other way, that he loved his wife and daughter and how they were the best thing to ever happen to him. His father smirked, patted him on the shoulder and with a low tone in his voice stated. “You keep them safe. You never know what could happen. “After saying this, his father walked to his car, opened the door and left still smirking at he exited the driveway. Richard sat there watching his father leave his house with a chill running up his spine. He felt a hand touch his shoulder and a familiar voice call out to him. It was Cassie.

“Richard? Are you going to stare at it or rake the yard?” Rich snapped back. The yard was covered in leaves. There were no small piles dotting the property. No sign that any work was done. He just sat there with rake in hand. The most disturbing aspect of the whole ordeal was that Richard had not seen nor heard from his father for five years. His mother had divorced him year’s earlier and he had moved far away from the state of Louisiana to escape his now ex-wife. It was impossible for his dad to have been there, and when he asked my sister if she had seen his father pull up she stated that no one showed up in the time he had went outside to work. Rich hesitantly asked what time it was. My sister stated plainly that it was five o’clock. His eyes widened.

“Cassie, I came out here at one.” He had been on the porch for four hours sitting there speaking to………..someone. Richard grew pail. My sister became concerned and asked what was bothering him, to which he explained the story I am telling you now. My sister, having a firm belief in the supernatural, came to my house to try to make sense of the situation. He finished his story. Richard looked at me with hesitation, his eyes searching mine for any hint of disbelief. I myself have had encounters with the unexplained in the past, and for me to look at this situation with any judgment or condescension would be grossly inappropriate. I grabbed his shoulder and looked calmly into his eyes.

“We need to find the history of that house.” I stated in an assuring tone. His face relaxed and his shoulders untightened. Immediately I began to search the internet for previous owners, criminal occurrences, or deaths relating to that house. I found much. The most outstanding story that I had found was of a massacre that had taken place in the house during the 80’s. The story goes that the house was notorious for meth and other illegal drugs going in and out of the property. An argument occurred between a few customers and the dealer and his partner that led to a brutal fight between the two parties. All five victims had stabbed each other repeatedly until they all lay dead on the floor. Other stories told of an old man during the 70’s that would show up in the middle of the night claiming that the current tenants were trespassing on his lands yelling threats to kill them and the like. All of the deaths recorded about the house seemed to follow the same order of deranged and angered people lashing out and committing murders in fits of rage. Later I would find out from my father that during the 50’s that his grandfather used to live in this area, and that in that house lived an old lady who was deranged and mad. She would threaten people on the street passing by claiming that she would shoot them and drag their bodies away for no one to find. When my grandfather made the mistake of accidentally walking on her property, she ran after him with a shotgun madly firing into the air shouting that she was going to kill him and eat him. The lady eventually died in that house from a heart attack and wasn’t found until days later. As we talked the uneasiness of my brother in law fell away. Richard, not wanting to believe that something was wrong with his house, dismissed it as being overtired and stressed and went back to his house, shaken but not deterred. It wasn’t long after our talk that something else happened.

A month and a half went by with no further happenings in the house, when a frenzied call came to my home. My mother picked it up. It was Cassie crying and partially yelling as a loud thumping echoed over the call. She kept screaming ‘He’s trying to get in! He’s trying to get in!’ as the thumping sound grew more and more violent. My mother shouted over the phone that my father was on his way. He grabbed his .357 handgun and took off out the door to his truck. My mother hung up the phone, called 911, and we waited in silence for our father to return from rescuing my sister. An hour passed and my father walked through the door alone.

“The police arrived shortly after I got there. Not a moment too soon.” He explained. He was never one to give over to emotion in intense situations, but his face was pail and stressed. “I thought I was going to have to shoot him. “

“Shoot who?” My mother asked.

“The man who was trying to break in to Cassie’s house, that’s who.” He shakily placed the gun on the counter and wiped the sweat from his brow. “He kept shouting I know you have it in there! Come out and give it to me! When I yelled at him to stop he turned and faced me. He walked slowly towards me saying that if I didn’t leave he was going to cut me up and eat me for dinner. That’s when the cops arrived and arrested him. He kept screaming it even as they were putting him into the car. ‘I’m going to cut you all up and eat you!”

“Where was Richard?” My mom asked almost in tears. The next words out of his mouth stopped me dead in my tracks.

“His father came into town and he took Richard out to dinner. He left about four hours ago. Dumb idiot left his phone at home.”

Shortly after that incident, my sister and he family left the home and moved into an apartment on the other side of town. Later I would ask Richard what he thought of that house. His answer was simple.

“If I had the gasoline I would burn it to the ground. It… and whatever lived inside it.”

Credit To: Johnathon Blanton

It was 9:30 P.M on a Sunday night and I had only just left work. There was a mountain of paperwork sat at my desk that had to be completed for Monday morning, but I knew that it couldn’t be done. I’d already given up my entire weekend, so it was difficult to find the energy to worry. I had grown bored of my job now anyway, so I didn’t really care what my boss said; I just needed a beer. I wandered out of the office doors, through the car park and made my way down the darkened road. Then like that, I was free. I was 21 now and had reached the age when I believed I knew everything. I had long grown used to living on my own and doing what I pleased, so I assumed I’d eventually just find a new job and be fine. My only regret that night was making the walk home.

Seeing as there is only two ways to reach my flat and one of them is a longer trek than the other, I could see no reason for taking the ‘scenic’ route; so I set off along my usual path. The journey home usually consisted of trudging down a miserable, lifeless road in which various holes had seemed to swallow up parts of the ground; and it was the same old walk for a little while, well, until I noticed a cut-off. It was a street that I had clearly passed every day on my way home, but I had only just noticed now. Feeling slightly confused, I decided to wander over to take a better look and hopefully refresh my mind. Smiths Avenue it was called. With it being a small, homely street, I expected it to be somewhat pleasant; but it wasn’t. It was surrounded by rotting monoliths and huge trees, making it look centuries old. At the very bottom, there was an abandoned ice cream truck that had been absorbed by the plants, while next to it was a pitch black tunnel. There was no light coming from anywhere in the street, just a silver glow from the moon to guide my eyes. I didn’t feel scared, nor did I feel the need to run away; but the street seemed very familiar and that made me feel slightly uneasy.

I was about to turn and get back to walking home when I realised how I knew the street. Eight years ago, I had a friend named Eddie Burscough. We used to play in the same street that I was now looking at, but it looked a lot different when I was a child. Back then I lived with my mum and dad, a happy life as I recall; but I lost them at a young age and seemed to block out a lot of memories. Maybe that’s why I forgot about Eddie and the street? I wasn’t sure, but I knew that I had to go and take a look around.

Straight away, my mind was flooded with memories – mostly of looking out the window and seeing Eddie playing out. I remembered kicking a football around all day, eating ice cream in the summer, riding our bikes in the sun with no worries at all; but my strongest memories were that of the tunnel. Even back then, in the light of my mind, the tunnel was just as dark as it looked to me now. So with our childish minds, we took the opportunity to create a game. ‘The Tunnel Run’ we called it. The game was simple: we each took turns to run down the tunnel and see who could make it the farthest without getting scared and turning back. There was one catch though… neither of us knew how far it went. If I remember rightly, neither of us ever made it all the way to the very end either. Not long after I lost my parents, I was placed with a foster family and I never saw Eddie ever again. Judging by the condition of the street now, it’s safe to say that he doesn’t live here any more.

I made my way to the tunnel at the far end of the street and stood on the edge of darkness. I felt the urge to try the tunnel run; for old times sake. I took my phone out and dimly lit a foot or so in front of me as I made my way inside; I walked this time. There was nothing but silence with me in that tunnel and I think that’s what compelled me to keep moving forward. I carried on walking until I got so far inside I couldn’t see anything at either end; but I wasn’t scared. It seemed peaceful.

After walking for what seemed like twenty minutes or so, I was stopped in my tracks when I could see a dim red light at the far end of the tunnel. I had to reach it. Was this the end that I had never reached? That Eddie had never reached? I had to find out. I kept on walking and walking until the light slowly came into focus and looked a lot brighter. At this point, I could make out something standing next to it, shuffling about and breathing. Then the smell of smoke hit me and my body tightened; I stopped walking. I then began to step backwards so I could leave, so I could make a run for it. When out of nowhere I heard someone mumble “Beat you to it”. It was Eddie. It had to be him, I could just tell. I moved towards him and couldn’t believe my eyes. It was definitely him, but he looked different. Not just older, but scarier. His features seemed twisted and a wry smile sat upon his face. He was stood next to a huge metal door, almost like a bouncer at a night club. He stared for a moment, winked at me and muttered “Come inside”.

I needed to talk to him and he clearly needed to talk to me too; so I followed him through the metal door. My stomach was turning, this all seemed like a dream. Once I was inside, my vision blurred for a moment. When it came back into focus, I was sure that my eyes were deceiving me. We were in my bedroom from when I was a young boy. It wasn’t a place made to seem like my old room; it was my exact room. The smell, the warmth, the memories all filled my being. I smiled. That’s when Eddie turned to look at me “Do you remember what your childhood was like?” Though confused, I replied “Well I remember some of it. It was good”

“Was it?”

“From what I can remember, it really was. Playing in the summer, ice cream, footba-”

“So you remember everything being fine do you, everything was perfect?” Eddie snarled

“What do you mean? I remember what I remember. It wasn’t all good, no. I remember my parents dying and going to a foster home – never seeing you again, you just disappeared. Before all of that though, I had a great childhood. My teenage years were great too, even my foster family were nice people”

“Did you forget what your mum and dad were like? They were fiends, disgusting people, they used to beat you up and down; kick you, punch you, put cigarettes out on your arm. Did you forget all of that?”

I realised that I had. I had completely forgotten. Everything came back to me at that point, all at once like huge wave. All of the pain that my parents had put me through emerged from the darkness; and I knew then, exactly why I blocked out my childhood.

“How did they die?” Eddie said

I mumbled “I, I can’t remember”

“What do you remember? Take a look at this, it may look familiar”

My old bedroom suddenly changed and I was in another bedroom. I could tell that it was in the same house but it was completely charred; burnt to a crisp. I remembered that bedroom, it was very familiar, but for some reason I didn’t know why.

“That’s my bedroom” Eddie said “I remember, one night after we had taken our usual beatings, you came into my room and whispered to me that we needed to do something. We needed to get out of here. A moment before you left, you threw a box of matches on my bed and told me to set fire to my bedroom; you said that we could make it look like an accident. I was young and naive, so I agreed to do it. You told me that if I did it correctly we could leave and be happy with another family; but you left me. You ran out of the house and left me screaming in my bedroom. The fire spread so fast, I didn’t know what to do; I just called out my brother’s name but nobody came. You didn’t just leave our parents to die in that fire. You left me”

I could see the pain and sadness in his eyes as he told me the whole story. My little brother didn’t seem so scary anymore. I placed my head in my hands and cried more than ever. I just couldn’t believe it, I remembered everything. My abusive parents, my younger brother – the only good part of my childhood – all dead, because of me. I blocked everything out from my younger life but kept hold of the good memories. I got a new family, inherited every penny from my old life and changed my name to start fresh, nobody knowing what I had done – the authorities called it an accident. I lifted my head up with tears streaming down my face to apologise but he was already gone. At that moment I wanted to die.

I had tried to bury my past and move on but it didn’t work. It was bound to find me sooner or later. I didn’t deserve to start a new life; Eddie would never get to. I looked around at the empty room to see if he was anywhere to be seen, but he wasn’t. It was just me and my tears. I stepped forward and opened the huge metal door; then with a rush of light I was right back at the top of Smiths Avenue. I glanced down the street and it looked exactly the same as it did back in my childhood. Except for one house at the end which was completely burnt. I turned away and left that street, I don’t think I’ll ever go back there again; but I remember everything now and I will never forgive myself. I just wish I could speak to my baby brother again.

Credit: Jacob Newell

It had started in the farthest corner of my apartment; first as only the slightest hint of coppery red, before oozing from the ceiling and down the wall. I stumbled towards it, tripping over a laundry hamper and knocking it to the floor. It was funny looking, really. Against the yellowing wall paper, it looked almost like a rookie’s graffiti, still fresh and drying. I lifted a hand to touch it, but thought better. Up this close, the stench was overwhelming like when the sink clogs and you pull out the stopper to find an enormous glob of hair. A smell mixed between bile and ammonia, a nauseous wave swept over me attempting to pull up last week’s dinner. In a panic, I ran to the window and was alarmed when it wouldn’t open. Furiously, I scrambled to unlatch the lock and rattled it up for the first time in years. As I swallowed the tastiest air I’ve ever had, I could only think, At least I know where the smell is coming from now.

One month ago had been a party for me. I’d gotten home early from my job mopping floors at a hospital and had even had time to pick up a pizza on the way back. Now, I don’t live in the best of areas, I’ll admit; and whenever I pull into the unpainted parking space of my building, I always get that feeling that something bad might happen that day. The apartment’s at least two hundred years old and it shows. From the chipped red bricks to the way it tilts slightly towards the top, “The Queen”, gives a sense of both unreliability and experience. And I’m sure it’s experienced a lot.

I push though the front glass door, complete with a head-sized hole, and begin the solemn march to the eighth floor and my room – number 48. I say solemn march because that’s what it is; I don’t want to see or talk to anyone here and that’s best done by staring at the floor as I walk, my face suitable blank. The first person I come across seems to have the same idea. He’s wearing cheap plaid over a greasy t-shirt and doesn’t even look my way as he slips into number 9: The Queen’s nightly brothel, if I’m not mistaken. The Queen’s a classy place.

I cross up the stairs past a room that has smelled heavily of curry since I moved here, the same screaming rock music playing like a theme song. The door is open and I see a huddle of kids shooting up heroin or cocaine or maybe even bleach mixed with water. Who cares? I certainly don’t. The walls up here are covered with what could either be mud or human excrement and I try my best to guide the bulky pizza box up the stairs without touching anything.

I see old man Taylor wobbling up the steps ahead of me. He’s got his veteran’s cap on again and he’s humming some sort of oldie under his breath. I feel bad for him, I really do. It’s hard to watch as his arms shake each time he releases the railing to climb up another step; his legs moving slowly with arthritis. Luckily, I’m on my floor now so I won’t have to wait thirty minutes before getting to my room.

“You having a pardy t’night, boy?” His voice is raspy from smoking and muddled from time. I turn to have a look at him, hooking the box under my arm.

“Every night’s a party,” I remark, failing to come up with anything better, “Why, what are you doing tonight?”

“Not’ing, I just want to say hello. No one says hello an’more.”

I smile to him and nod, thinking about how cold the pizza must be getting. He smiles back, a toothless thing before returning to his journey upward as I jingle the keys into my door’s lock. Inside, I smile when I see the pile of DVD’s on the coffee table, the humming fridge with various appointments and magnets stuck to it and the window overlooking the sleeping town. I’d survived another day.

I throw the pizza down on the side of my mildew streaked couch and turn on the TV. The television is older than Christ and doesn’t have cable but none of that matters. I put in my favorite television series, “That 70’s Show”, and begin the party with my best and only friends.

* * *

My parents came for a visit three weeks later. The first thing they said when they walked in wasn’t about how messy the room was; it wasn’t about how I hadn’t called them since last Christmas or how they thought I could do better than this dump. They complained about the smell.

I blushed and pointed at the sink full to the brim with soap water and old dishes, but they were sure that wasn’t it. “It smells like something died in here”, they said. I fought back the urge to reply, “Ya, my hopes and dreams”. Honestly, I couldn’t smell anything. Needless to say, they didn’t stay long and I was alone again.

That night, lying in bed, I began yearning for the past. I vividly lived through my childhood for what must have been the eighth time. I saw all the mistakes I had made and all the chances I never took. I saw her again. Standing by the pool, waiting for me; but I’d never show up. I had told myself it was because I hadn’t wanted to get my hair wet at the time. Now, it felt like self-sabotage and I investigated every what-if scenario that could have happened if I’d gone.

There was a sudden crash above my bed as if a television or even a small bookcase had been kicked over. I was jolted out of my self-pity and back into reality. The crash was followed by a much smaller thump that was somehow more rattling than the first. That old man lived above me of course; he might have fallen over for all I knew. And yet, I did nothing. It all went downhill from there.

* * *

The next night I was haunted by what was the unmistakable sound of dripping. It was hard to hear, impossible during the day, but at night, when everything was quiet, that excruciating sound would begin. Like the ticking of a clock, getting louder and louder, never missing a beat. I envisioned a puddle of blackness being filled by an unnatural cloud; within, my loved ones were drowning. I would turn to my static strewn friends, but still the dripping continued, taking bits of sanity with every drop.

And the smell; that horrible yellow smell, like a portal into hell had been opened. I was reminded of when I found my parakeet trapped behind the couch as a child; its rotting flesh and fecal fumes leaping off its carcass. I had cried for my parents then as I did now. But what could they do? I was enveloped in this travesty and I had shut them out of my life.

Desperately, I searched my prison for the source of this evil. I pushed through all the toxins under the sink, scattered the mothballs under my bed, and checked the vents for dead creatures. That’s when I found something odd. It seemed as if the source was coming through the vents themselves and not from my room at all. Immediately I bought a roll of duct tape and sealed off every vent I could find with three layers of tape. Gradually, the air began to clear and I could finally begin to think rationally again. To finish the job, I sprayed air freshener into every corner of every room, and that’s when I noticed the spot.

A single, crimson red drip was gathering in the very corner by the window. Building in size like a blister, I watched as the bubble popped and streaked five inches down the wall. Several other red stalactites appeared and grew in size before following it’s comrade down towards the floor. It was bizarre; they began to take the shape of an upside down tree, its branches a glaring sea of blood. I felt dinner begin to rise up my throat and I hurriedly shoved the window open, gasping for breath.

I was even more shocked by what I saw below. There was a group of at least ten men in bulky, yellow hazmat clothing exiting two white vans and running into the apartment. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I pulled my head back inside to look at the growing red mark as it began to reach and soak into the carpet floor. I jumped back in surprise before the spot could reach my toes and headed for the door. Already I could hear the men as they charged up the stairs past my door, towards – my heart skipped a beat – old man Taylor’s apartment.

I slammed open the door and waived down an approaching hazmat man. I could tell he was out of breath without even seeing his face.

“Please, exit the building, sir,” he gasped.

He didn’t wait for me to reply and so I did the only thing I could – I walked down the stairs with everyone else into the cold night air; on the eve of winter.

* * *

Old man Taylor had been found dead, I was told later. It turned out he’d hung himself over a month ago; and there he had stayed, like clothes in a closet or beef on a meat hook. No one had even noticed he was gone. His family never called him, nor he them; he didn’t have any friends to speak of because he’d never speak a word to anyone. By all accounts of the few who knew him, he was a lonely man because he never took the time to be anything else; either he felt he was too busy or he just didn’t care. And he died that way.

After a month of hanging there, his head had separated from his body. The crash was the body hitting the ground and the following thump – the rest of him. Everything inside him had flooded out and dyed the white carpet around him red before soaking through the floor to repeat the pattern in my room. The only reason he was noticed missing was from the smell and a missing payment for his rent.

I look back on this and realize with horror that we really weren’t so different. I had shut myself off from the world into a cold loneliness I’m sure Taylor was very familiar with up until the bitter end. I’ve started going out more as a result. I’ve shut off the television and sold all my DVDs. I even called her again. I almost didn’t, at first. But during the past month, I’ve learned that life is too short and sanity too fragile to lock myself in my room anymore. In the search for change, I’ve put away my noose for good.

- Based on a true story -

Credit To: A.R. Scroggins