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
Doors Are Made For Opening Read More »
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
This is My Goodbye Read More »
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
The Devil’s Chamber Read More »
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
Comfort in Numbers Read More »
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
Just Your Typical Saturday Night Read More »
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
The Leviathan’s Grin Read More »
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
Murder is an incredibly human concept, when you think of it. All species kill; to protect their young, to cull those unfit, most often in order to stay alive- everyone needs to eat. And yet, in nature, all causes of death are natural. We exist simply for existence’ sake. All
Frank, Thomas, and Kirby enter the office break room at approximately 12:25 pm on a Tuesday afternoon. Each man holds various containers designed for holding food and drink, and as they lazily slump into the fiberglass chairs that were haphazardly pushed under the table after their previous uses, the room
Let me tell you all a story. It’s one which I think is interesting, but at the same time frustrating for me. You see, it’s not mine. And for that reason I can’t develop it myself or adapt it into a complete tale. It’s supposedly an experience someone actually had,
“Watch out for Sadie.” “What?” “Watch out for Sadie. She haunts the garage.” I searched the face of Carol, the woman who had been training me for the past week, waiting to see her wink or twitch the corners of her mouth into a mocking smile. Instead, I received a
I’m sure if you’re a real horror fan, you’ve heard of the 1922 movie Nosferatu. It was one of the first real horror movies, made in Germany just after World War I. It had a large influence on vampire lore, because it made them vulnerable to the sun. Before, vampires
The Real Nosferatu Read More »
One, two, three, four.. Ah, who cares. I lost count a while back. Strong shit, too. I’m sitting here at the local pub of a lowly city, washing down my sadness with the comfort of my friend Jack Daniel. There are a bunch of others here, too, despite the time
Late One Fall Night Read More »
There isn’t much to do around Westbrook, our shitty little town in the Appalachian Mountains. The town itself only has a population of two thousand, and most of them work in the Davidson Coal Mine in the eastern half of town. My dad used to work there, before the accident.
Part I – It Begins My name is Abby. My sister Amber and I are identical twins, and spend most of our time together. Outwardly we look the same: same shoulder-length brown hair, same large brown eyes, same pale skin, same thin 5′ 8″ builds. Inside, though, we’re a bit
