Hello, dear reader, whoever you may be. If you are reading this document, it is likely that I have been dead for quite some time. By the time you are reading this, I suspect that you have gone through my other belongings, and you must then be aware of at […]
The Brazilian Blood Trials Read More »
Across the street, there is a petite little blue house. White trim, picket fence. It’s the cliché fairy tale home you read in the storybooks. I can see it through the bars of my window. The little old lady who lives there likes to sit in an old rocking chair
My Neighbor Likes to Cross-Stitch Read More »
It was a miracle. Dr. Randleman had done it. He made thoughts visible…His achievement, AA numerical calculation of images and emotions. Dr. Randleman was a genius known throughout academia as a prodigy among Prodigies. Attending Harvard at fifteen, he graduated five years later with a masters in both cognitive psychology
What happens when we try to calculate a mad man’s thoughts Read More »
I was sat in what looked like a dentist’s chair in a dimly lit room. The doctor strapped me in and gave me a word of advice before starting. “Now Jack, it’s important to keep your eyes closed once the session begins.” “Is it really necessary to strap me in
Past Life Regression Study Read More »
“Alright, Jack. Are you ready?” After being strapped down by the orderlies, an older gentleman with a white coat stepped over and looked down at me as my back caressed the cold, metal slab I was fastened to. I presumed this was Doctor Covenwood, the lab’s head of operations. “Uhhh…
Simon huddled closer to Meredith as the two sat gazing at Manhattan in the distance. A city, once vibrant and full of life, now stood as a mausoleum. Skyscrapers reached toward the darkening sky little more than vacant, black pillars. Deafening silence hung over the deserted streets. Broken cars clogged
It had been wracking my brain for months. What exactly did he keep in there? Why was he being so secretive? Even when I was younger, my father was more than happy to share his work with me at the dinner table. I listened intently, fascinated by the projects his
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Do you ever just sit and watch your sleeping dog? Observe as their little feet run along the ground, just waving halfway in the air as they let out innocent half-gruntled barks. Have you ever just wondered what’s going on inside their sleeping minds, what they’re dreaming about? Maybe it’s
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If you’re armed and at the Glenmont metro, please shoot me. Make it a headshot. Shoot me in the temple, aiming slightly downwards. I need the bullet to travel the shortest possible distance through my brain before it hits my hippocampus. If I’m lucky, the sensation of the gunshot ripping
If You’re Armed and at the Glenmont Metro, Please Shoot Me Read More »
In the dark of the night, little children often feel as if they see demons in their closet, and as if someone is watching them. The inky blackness of the night changes their familiar bedrooms once the watchful sun sets below the horizon. For most children, a blanket over the
Tonight’s Entertainment Read More »
A couple of months ago, I found a diary written by a young girl, Florence Blackwell, who was a patient at the Kings Park Psychiatric Hospital on Long Island. Without telling the entirety of the story over again, there was one person who was instrumental in Florence’s survival of inhumane treatment at the hospital; a nurse named Mary.
I Followed An Angel of Death and Read Her Diary Read More »
I grew up on Long Island, right outside of the Kings Park Psychiatric Center, home of the legend of Cropsey. I was always a good kid, never broke any rules, never really pushed the limits of what was and wasn’t “allowed”. But recently, I moved home after graduating from college,
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It’s been a week since the program started. A program that I thought would be the easiest way to make fifty grand within a week, but things turned to shit on the third day of a project called The Second Coming. Eighteen people were involved in the project. Eight of
Vanna-Isabella Osborne was only two years old when the tests began. Every day, she’d be awoken at dawn by her crazed parents, before being stripped bare and strapped onto a cool metal table. No matter how much she screamed and cried, it wouldn’t stop her parents from stabbing her eyes,
Everything that people think they know about the Mandela effect is incorrect. The phenomenon has been occurring for years, only most dismissed it as a fluke. In the most severe cases those experiencing the effect were diagnosed as having some sort of mental illness, and subsequently medicated, or committed. Then
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I lived next to this one kid who always had bandages wrapped around their whole head, even covering their face. I remembered his name was Wilbur, a twelve-year-old boy who never left his house. He sometimes looked out of his bedroom window on the top floor, at all of the
The worst thing I’ve ever done in my life happened about twelve years ago, when I was a sixteen-year-old kid living in Cleveland, Ohio. It was the early fall, when the leaves were just starting to turn orange and the temperatures were starting to fall, hinting at the freezing chill that was only a few months away. School had just started, but it had been going on for about a month now, so all the excitement of going back and reuniting with old friends had been replaced by the realization that we were captives in a place that only wanted to load work upon us. Understandably, my friends and I were all eager to do anything that might remind us of the worry-free, responsibility-free days of summer.
Part 1 Have you ever wondered what it would be like to play God? Some questions should stay unanswered. We selected seven individuals for the study. My colleague found it important to have a radical mixture of gender and sexual orientation. Discrete cameras were set up throughout the participants’ home
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In the heart of a second-growth piney-woods jungle of southern Alabama, a region sparsely settled by backwoods blacks and Cajuns—that queer, half-wild people descended from Acadian exiles of the middle eighteenth century—stands a strange, enormous ruin.
On Davidson Avenue, one mile east of Highway 164 and East Main Street Intersection, sits the entrance to Hillcrest Park, home of the now defunct Nike Missile Base, known to the Waukesha, Wisconsin locals as The Old Hillcrest Doom Tower. From 1956 to 1964 the active site was home to
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The Rodderson Experiments By Henry Parkissel Hey, everyone, it’s Henry from Oddity Watch, formerly known as MagaScream. I would like to preface this article by addressing our recent name change, which was done because people thought that “Maga-“ in “MagaScream” was an acronym for “Make America Great Again.” In actuality, it was intended
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Griffin and I were both 25. We hadn’t seen each other since college but kept in close contact. I was working at a cybersecurity firm, and I really wasn’t sure what he had been doing. He always told me he was “just working on something.” I took a few vacation
I like to go urban spelunking, “ruin diving” my friends call it. We find a place out in the middle of the nowhere that people have forgotten and we break in to see what treasures they might have left behind. On one of our trips we decided to check out
They gave me a million bucks to keep my trap shut, and I did, for fifteen years. But last night I was making the rounds, and I saw the professor again. I had a heart attack three years back, and I tell you, when I saw him standing there in
The Harvard Wormhole Experiment Read More »
