I met Alex in middle school. He was always really shy. He usually sat by himself, at least a seat away from anyone else. After a few days of class I decided to sit by him. He looked discouraged, it seemed he had forgotten his book for that class. I
Harold had never been what most would call a responsible or reliable man. He meant well, he just made bad decisions. Between whiskey and poor choices in women, he had burned the first thirty years of his life away. But it all probably seemed like a good idea at the
The cold was the first thing I felt. Even before my eyes were open I felt a very deep chill in my core, a thousand spindles of ice sewn between my tissues. I blinked, my eyelids slowly bringing and stealing back the darkness, and with it the desire to keep
I Am the Apocalypse Read More »
I’ve spent a good portion of my life out in the Australian bush, enough time that there is very little left out there that can surprise or scare me. I’ve tussled with massive scrubber bulls and lived to tell the tale and I’ve even come across good sized king brown
Demon of the Outback Read More »
Nathaniel H. Jackson’s Journal November 11, 1911 I had never intended on venturing into that cave. That cave where no one ever dared to go near. I remember when I was a child how my friends and I would play around the property border. Back then, the cave was on
I always knew there was something wrong with my beloved grandmother. It started when she began rambling about a ‘creature.’ “It follows me,” she would whisper. Her grey skin would become infinitely grayer. “It talks to me,” Her pupils dilated. So, as any loving family would have done we assumed
The dark, wet alley was slightly illuminated by Sarah’s cell phone light, as she shined it every few seconds to see where she was headed. Her eyes scanned the darkness, and she shook crazily. What had happened to her last night was a mystery. She thought back, back to the
Jeff the Killer versus Slenderman Read More »
You hate your brother. Dylan is a jerk all the time. Any opportunity to annoy or ruin your life he’d take with both hands and run. And running literally. As soon as he’d managed to get you in trouble, he would sprint, leaving you to stew. He is always watching
I’ve been thinking of him-er-her (it?) for the past week. I haven’t been able to sleep. I’ve barely eaten anything. I quit my job. Or stopped going to work is more like it. I assume I’m no longer employed there. My eyes are sunken in. I sit at my computer
I was always known as the weird girl; the one with no friends, strict parents, and strange habits. I was an outcast in part because I ate hot sauce sandwiches and sleepwalked. School days were long and torturous. There was nothing good about middle school. The worst part was definitely
“I gotta tell you, Connor, this is one amazing story,” Kurt said, plopping down on the couch next to him. “You’ve got me believing in the boogie man again. I actually checked under my bed last night.” Connor laughed, taking the manuscript back. “Well it did take first prize in
By the Fire’s Light Read More »
We are all too familiar with creepy basements. We all know the feeling you get when you turn the lights off before running up the stairs, praying nothing will grab your ankle before the last step. As children, we would dread trips to the cellar, the cold room, and that
Ever since I could remember, ever since I had been a child, I had been afraid of the dark depths of any sea or deep lake. Dark blue or green water had a nauseating affect on me, and seaweed dancing sinuously at the bottom of pools made me shudder. Worse
Hey, you. Yes, you at the bar there, the blonde. Want to hear a story? Well, all things considered you’re alone in a bar on All Hallows. Don’t look at me like that, that’s what today is called! But hey, if you want to hear one, I’d be the guy
How to Succeed in Publishing Without Really Trying Read More »
A man named Marty Foster was walking. He wasn’t quite sure where to; hadn’t been for some time. He had found that it was shockingly easy to lose his way in a world that only spun in one direction. Sooner or later he always wound up lost, staring at his
I used to live in a small town called Fenter. It was a quiet place to grow up with one school, a doctors, a police station, a cinema (with films shown a month after the national release date), two restaurants and a host of local shops on the west side.
Related: Poisoned Oak Bassa was not unlike many of his neighbors in Glevum, a town in the Roman province of Britannia; men who were originally brought to this land by conquest, and who were now settling down to a new life as farmers. The town of Glevum had once been
Poisoned Oak — The Sacred Grove Read More »
If you’re just staring to read my experiences with this horror, you should read my other stories first. You can find them here: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Okay guys, a lot has happened since the last time I checked in. Lot of you messaged
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part Six & Link to the End Read More »
Formalities first: If you’re just joining my diary of horror, please read part one, part two, part three, and part four. I have become almost indifferent to what’s going on to me. Since my first story, so much shit happened/was discovered that I became dulled down to the point of almost not giving a
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part Five Read More »
If you haven’t read my previous posts, please read stories one, two and three. Hey guys, after many PMs asking for an update, I decided to bring you up to speed on whats going on. But first, here is the screenshot of the desktop picture that Rose/her cult put on my laptop. I haven’t been
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part Four Read More »
Anyone who hasn’t read my story should do so before looking in this thread. My first story had some updates to it too. My second story is my girlfriend’s account of the events. Hey guys, I promised pictures and updates, so here we go. I will also respond to some questions. So first’s things
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part Three Read More »
Before you read my girlfriend’s side of the story, you may want to read my first post that also contains last night’s unfortunate update. Here is the update copy/pasted: Okay guys, I realize I am a bit late with my girlfriend’s story, but when you read my latest update, you’ll see that
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part Two Read More »
Okay guys, before I begin, I gotta give you a fair warning. This story is absolutely true unfortunately. It is also very long. It goes back to my childhood, but it wasn’t as terrifying until very recently. Now I am completely lost in fear. I am an adult man, logical
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part One Read More »
Related: Harlequin No.7 & The Kindness of Strangers “I ask him why above he crawls, scratching apart my bedroom walls. And he looks down through white eyes peeping, And says… I’m not crawling, I’m simply creeping.” – Music & lyrics by Billie-Joe Kimble. The job of a
