There are few careers with the same considerations as police work. Not only are we in a position to make life-changing choices, but we also have to live with the consequences of those choices forever. Many people struggle to handle that. Time and time again, we see what happens when […]
I Investigate Disturbing Cases: Here Are My Stories – Voices From Nature Read More »
If you were to ask any teenager, in the year 1956 on a Friday night in the small town of Waderton California; where is the coolest and most popular place to be in town? Then your best and most likely answer would be the Still Ridge lookout point up on
In The Still Of The Night Read More »
I had recently moved to the Yorkshire Dales with my rescue dog, Splash, so-named for his love of puddles, and this summer past we had ambled through the woodland on long walks on a weekend. He would always dart ahead, rustling through the leaf litter for insects or fallen branches,
The night was quiet. The cool breeze came and went, like the breath of a sleeping child. But I was not peacefully asleep, as the murmur had begun again. It had been going on for a few months now. We had moved in to our new home last year, and
I stare at the corpse in the mirror. How desperately the dry, clay-colored skin clings to its skull. Rubbery. How narrow its tired eyes are, weighed down by the dark satchels hanging from them. How many broken vessels I could count beneath its sullen cheeks. A nebula of spider veins.
The house is set at the end of an abandoned road behind a line of pine trees. The road used to be a part of the highway system and the house was built after the new system had been put in and was put there for its privacy. The original
Read part one here Weeks went by with absolutely nothing. We tried to keep in contact with the park and the police every day, but we always got the same response. They were ‘looking into it.’ From what we were being told, they were contacting people that had been at
Cheesy’s World (Part 2) Read More »
I was perusing the job ads hoping for something that paid more than minimum wage when something interesting popped up, “$1,000 per week! Working only 30 hours!” I was definitely interested so I clicked the ad assuming that it was going to be some type of scam, but it looked
Too good to be true Read More »
I grew up on a small-town ranch in the Midwest region of the United States, on land that had been passed down in my family for several generations. It can be brutal out there, with hot dry summers that threaten to suck every last drop of moisture from you, and
The Land Where Nothing Grows Read More »
‘Cheesy’s World, where a kid’s happiness is guaranteed!’ Well, that’s how the slogan went back when I was a teenager anyway. I know what you’re thinking. “Cheesy’s World? Isn’t that a rip off of…” And you would be right if it reminded you of several places. If you ever had
Cheesy’s World (Part 1) Read More »
I was finally moved into my first place on my own. I was working two jobs to afford it, but it was a freedom I had never had before. I spent the first 6 years of my life moving from crack house to crack house with my mother and the
My First Apartment Read More »
No service? You’ve got to be kidding me! My older brother, James, is in LA with the house to himself. He’s probably in the Jacuzzi surrounded by hot girls right now. Meanwhile, I’m in some European backwater that has been decaying since the fall of the U.S.S.R. I looked over
The Man at the End of the Hill Read More »
I had woken up after a very long time. It almost felt like an eternity. I opened my eyes and there it was, the night, my lost love. I was so happy, so excited to see the night that I didn’t even move for a full minute after waking up.
The Letter to My Other Self Read More »
Read Part one here Read Part two here As I began to reach for the door, hands shaking uncontrollably; I closed my eyes and began muttering out loud “There’s nothing to be afraid of…” over and over like it was a mantra. My eyes shot open immediately upon grabbing the
A Survivor’s Accounts of the Depraved Funhouse: The Balloon (Part Three) Read More »
“What a frickin’ mess this is.” Detective Mike Barrow stood atop a muddy ridge on a humid Monday morning, looking down at a small crew of police personnel in a heavily wooded ravine. In the middle of the action was a dead body that had apparently washed up onto the
Read Part one here It was gearing up to be a long night. The place was packed two-deep with thirsty patrons, and our barback was nowhere in sight. I wouldn’t know it until hours later, but he had quit out of the blue, leaving me to manage the tides myself.
The Angels Burned Part 2 Read More »
My brother shut the door of our apartment with a long, exaggerated sigh. He walked right to the fridge to grab two tall Bud Lights from the fridge: one for him and one for me. “Tough day at work?” I said. “Same as every day.” He drank half of his
Twisted neck, mouth half-open, eyes rolled back too far. The body was draped over its bicycle that was twirled and turned in ways that undoubtedly would affect its further functioning. It was an impressive image – not a spat of blood that spilled from out of its skull onto the
When I was a kid, my stepfather asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up. “A magician,” I answered quickly with worldwide clarity. He huffed at that answer. “That ain’t a job, son. Wearing makeup and doing a little dance at parties ain’t a job to seek.
Have you ever had that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you feel like something bad is going to happen? It is a new level of anxiety that makes my mind want to explode! My family has always been wealthy due to our family name owning many large
When The Lights Go Out Read More »
I had been a forty nine-er and a lucky one at that. Having made a small fortune in gold, that is to say, enough to put a substantial stake in a successful shipping business, my stock had risen and I was then a man who could spend time at leisure.
One last crimson heart. That’s all there was. John stood in the storage closet-like room, barely breathing. The only light was a sliver from the hallway and a flickering incandescent bulb strung up in the center of the room. Directly under the fleeting yellow light sat a green box atop
One Last Crimson Heart Read More »
Sitting in what might have been a graveyard, Tom was buried deep inside his head, playing the keys of his laptop. The uptown café saw less than a handful of customers the past few hours; not many people went out for late night coffee during a storm. Tom had to
It is 1894. Fog hangs heavy on this cold, still, San Francisco night. Madame Grace, a young woman of African descent, stands before the door of a dark, three-story, Victorian-style house. The turban atop her head to the jeweled anklets draped above her feet, speak of a spiritualist. Charles, her
