They call him “The Hatter”. His face is only a rumor. His body is an urban legend. But, his intentions are always clear; once the invitation arrives, he will be waiting, likely with a knowing smile and lashing tongue. Marcus was an unexceptional man. He worked eight hours a day …
I find myself speeding down a road that is, for some reason, both familiar and unfamiliar. The sky arches above me like an ancient and angry sea, grey and melancholy, reaching down to the horizon to kiss the earth. I’m going to fall into the sky, I think to myself. …
There was no doubt – my mouth had moved a centimeter to the left overnight. I check between reflection and picture before accepting the impossible. “Hitler, you gotta see this,” I call to my roommate, nicknamed for being the image of Arian perfection – blonde hair, blue eyes (the works). …
You believe in ghosts? Me neither. I can’t or I’ll go completely off the track. Or maybe I’m already nuts. What happened two days ago in the Chapelgate house might’ve actually happened or might’ve just been my imagination. One thing’s for damn sure, though: I’ll never set foot in that …
We’ve compiled our favorite scary movies, the best creepy video games, and a list of paranormal podcasts & radio shows thus far – and now it’s time for creepy/paranormal book recommendations! This has been suggested by a number of people, possibly because it was the obvious next step in our …
February 2014 Discussion Post: Book Recommendations Read More »
“So long as man is protected by madness, he functions and flourishes.” -Emile M. Cioran Move it, now! I shouted as everyone reached the staircase, their ragged breathing and obvious exhaustion did nothing to stop the water that was flooding the lower levels of the building we had taken shelter …
One by one the gravel rocks were kicked up off the road. He was half, maybe three quarters of a mile from the house. He felt something fall out of his pocket, but he didn’t care. All that he cared about was getting away. Away from that… thing. It was …
This story was one of the scare stories my grandmother used to tell me as a child. I cannot verify its authenticity or provide any proof of it having originated from a real experience, except from the fact that nearly everyone in my mother’s family knew of the story and …
I don’t really know how to start something like this, writing journal entries isn’t something I’d say I’m used to. Anyways, the doctors said it might help to get something down on paper so, it’s worth a try. I’ve been in this hospital for a few days now and, I …
Some of the most amazing paintings I have ever seen are those of Thomas Allsman. He is a quiet man in his early sixties, and he lives alone in a small old house on the edge of town. Thomas is a portrait painter, the best any of us have ever …
I cannot tell you when it all began. I have always been plagued by sleep paralysis. I have somewhat learned to deal with it, to recognise it for what it is and wait it out. It always begins with the need to yawn or speak, but my mouth is shut …
Dear Reader, When I was a little girl, I lived in a small neighborhood where everyone knew each other. You know the type: the suburban division of detached homes, each containing a mother, a father, and one to two little kids. It was that kind of a neighborhood, where the …
Once again the story is boring and hard to read. You miss your fifth grade reading book already. Try as you might, you just can’t stay awake any longer. Your eyelids begin to close all by themselves and the text on the page grows fuzzy. When you realize you’ve read …
Jonathan sat trembling in the dark. He stared at nothing, his eyes not penetrating the circle of blackness that surrounded him. A single lamp illuminated the round table he sat at, allowing him enough light to see the edges of it and nothing more. A tea pot and half-empty cup …
This is such a stupid idea. Why are we even doing this? Those were the thoughts that arose in my mind on that chilly, eerie evening. Sitting in the passenger seat of the dimly-lit car which belonged to my best friend Matt, I peered out the window and glanced up …
Ever since I was young, I have lived thinking in numbers. I was brilliant with numbers, so that was what I stuck to doing. I excelled in my math classes all throughout my childhood, so much so that many of my math teachers gave me advanced lessons to keep me …
It’s Saturday night and I’m home alone playing a video game. Not exactly the exciting partying life you’d expect from a college student, but what else could I do? My parents had the car. In fact, my parents drove off to Maine for a mini-vacation, and while I’m heating up …
July 5, 2010 I don’t really know what to say. Last week, I was in a bad car crash. The doctors said that I suffered some brain injuries in the crash and that it’s a miracle that I’m not dead. They also said that I needed to stay on top …
It was just a painting… simply a creepy painting. That’s what I kept telling myself. Perhaps I should elaborate a bit. My name is Colin McFetridge and I come from a long line of McFetridge men. My father, Patrick McFetridge died in an unfortunate boating accident when I was young, …
Sean woke up in his modest bedroom to the sound of his wife Doris cooking breakfast, just as she did every morning. Wiping the sleep from his aged eyes, Sean sat upright in his bed for a few minutes before finally getting dressed. After suiting-up, he looked through his cabinet …
I won’t bore you all with the details of my work, that can be for another time. What is important is that I have made the decision to share my case files with the general public. Most of the cases I’ve been involved in have revealed themselves to be distinctly …
The Fugavi Incident: A Drake Blackwood Case File Read More »
In the nineteen seventies, the city of Perth, Western Australia experienced an urban sprawl that made its suburbs clamber up and down the coast of the Indian Ocean. These suburbs, tenuously connected by fragile railways, like a spiderweb, was where I lived as a child. These novel infrastructure developments meant …
Consider this a warning. In the event it ever comes to you during a moment of weakness, as it did me all those years ago, say no to the Pastel Man. It doesn’t matter how much you love the person that it promises to help, nothing is worth what it wants in return. I tell you this in hopes that you don’t make the same mistake I did that cold winter night, kneeling beside my father’s writhing body on the living room floor.
“Time for sleep; the Nail is near. “But good children needn’t fear. “Close the left eye, then the right. “Now it’s time to say good night.” Until I was nine, I didn’t really think about it. Or if I thought about it at all, I thought it was just a …
