I’ve been laying down on this couch watching TV for what seems like hours. I can hear my dog barking downstairs. I glance up at the wall clock. It’s 9:00 already, and I still haven’t had dinner. My parents are out for the night, so I’m home alone with the […]
I look in the mirror and wonder, when did this happen to me. I had stared at what I had become for over an hour now. These dramatic changes to my body and mental state, all of it began a year ago when my sister was taken… by It. ***
Why me? I’m pretty sure everybody has asked that question to them self sometime in their short, sad life time. But this time. I really want to know why me. It was NEVER suppose to be like this. After all, I was just a 16 year old girl. My life
They laughed. The group has just arrived at their dorm from another night of ghost stories. They weren’t afraid. At least, they wouldn’t show it. They were, after all, men. “Holy shit, today’s stories were just insane. ‘I know you’re awake.’ What. The. Fuck. That got me,” Joshua said through
The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So she sat in the house All that cold, cold, wet day. She just sat in a chair All alone, by herself. As she watched the paint dry On her brand new bookshelf. Too wet to go out And
The Cat in the Hat Strikes Back Read More »
Like all small towns, the one I grew up in had its legends. In my town, there’s one particular legend I’ve heard since I was a kid. The people telling it, though, never agree on the details. They like to talk about some “thing.” Some say it is takes the
I can clearly make out a hospital ward. It’s probably mine, since I’m in its bed. It’s a private room, and my low bed faces the wall. I see no windows. I turn my head–wait. I suddenly notice restraints digging into my arms, legs, across my chest, and fixing my
“What is sleep but the image of death?” -Ovid, “Amorum” *** Mayet sat in the big chair and looked out the window. The curtains were drawn, so there was nothing to see, but she looked anyway. She could hear them talking in the next room. They’d left the door open,
Suzie had lost her trademark smirk. A frail pink mouth quivered in its place. Her green eyes sparkled in the firelight, the naive naughtiness now absent. She was holding back the rest of her story, almost as if she wasn’t sure if it was fiction anymore. Our touching knees parted.
Suzie Couldn’t Go To The Party Because… Read More »
I have to be brief, for I don’t really know how long I have until it finds me. My name is Daniel Lockwood, I’m a 20 year old British citizen and I’ve been living in China for the last 18 months. My Mother’s name is Deborah Lockwood. I am typing
Adam entered the living room and sat down with a glass of red wine, careful not to spill. He needed to have another talk with his wife. Things could get difficult. The wine helped him keep a level head. “Clara.” “Yes, dear?” “I’m glad you’re here. We have to talk.”
The rain pattered on the single-hung window, As I lay awake on my satin bed sheets; Sleep had no desire to stay, So I wait, observing Darkness. The downpour roared as the storm grew heavier, Throwing more diversion towards peace; Temporary madness overwhelmed my emotions Resulting in aggravated moans produced
How ironic, Cnaeus thought to himself as the glowing horizon signaled the start of the new day. The trees his men had cut down to expand the protective walls of the Roman fort he commanded had led to the release of a horde of bloodthirsty monsters. And those monsters had
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A laptop computer was found in the city sewers on Monday, April 22nd of 2013, after screams were heard echoing from below. As far as authorities could tell, there was no owner. All picture files on the hard drive were corrupted, and forensics failed to reconstruct all but one of
“Come play with me.” That line…it’s a cliché for the horror genre, is it not? You all know what I mean, the unsettling apparition of a child, or maybe just the voice, beckoning to you. What is it about children that gives them the ability to be so damn creepy?
“It’s not too bad, is it, sweetie?” Humbly dressed and brown haired, Wilbert Snow smiled at his daughter, and Mary gently smiled back from the living room. Mary’s father, Wilbert, was searching for a home set on a few acres of land that he could potentially build a vegetable garden
Mary Had a Little Lamb Read More »
Author’s Note: This story is a part of the By the Fire’s Light series. Part One: By The Fire’s Light Part Two: The Wanderer of Blazes Detective Carl Rourke pushed his chair back from his desk and rubbed his eyes. The book he had been reading fell on the desk
In mid-July of 1991, when Sam was six years old, he was holding his mother’s hand as they walked barefoot across the baking hot asphalt of the neighborhood pool’s parking lot. He had his other arm through the hole of his inflatable black inner tube, and was gazing off at
I love jigsaw puzzles. So when I found one on my phone that allowed me to make any size puzzle I want with a snap of a picture I was hooked. I started by taking pictures of random shots in my room, clicked “cut” then “mix” and poof, I was
“I just wanted to say, none of you have any idea what you’re talking about.” “What’s that, lady?” “I couldn’t help but overhear—” “How hard did you try?” “Don’t give her a hard time. She looks like she has a story.” “I do. It’s not a story you’ll like to
Tales of the City, Part Five: God of the Fields Read More »
“That reminds me of a story.” “What does?” “What she just said about being late to catch the train.” “Me? I didn’t say anything?” “Well, I’m sure I heard someone mention it, and that reminds me of a story that scared the hell out of me. Do you remember that
Tales of the City, Part Four: The Last Stop Read More »
I’ve always been a night person. Even as a small child, I can still remember my stepmother affectionately referring to me as ‘her little night owl’ when she’d wake up to use the bathroom and find light pouring out from beneath my doorframe. This natural tendency towards the nocturnal wasn’t
Dr. Ellen Kennedy was just locking up her office for the evening when her phone began to ring. She paused at the door. It had been a long and grueling day and a ringing phone this late did not bode well. She sighed. While it didn’t bode well, it meant
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[The recording starts to play.] “My name is Annabelle, and I am fourteen years old. It was about a month ago that I started acting “strangely”, according to my father. Of course, I don’t remember a bit of it. “The first time it happened, I did something pretty weird. In
