I’ve been a police officer for a long time, and there are certain things you learn to ignore if you want to sleep at night. This is not one of those things. I’m writing this anonymously because I was involved in a case back in 2019, and despite everything we […]
Grandma’s Footsteps Read More »
These posts were taken directly from a blog that got removed shortly after the last upload. Archived text below. HeyWarren – Posted 2/27/19 9:23pmMy Roommate Is Missing – Entry #1 Not really sure how to start this. So, I guess I’ll just try to start from the beginning. My name
No one ever talks about the sounds. They talk about the body.They talk about the wire.They talk about the eyes.But no one talks about the sounds.Because if they did… they’d understand it wasn’t just a killing.It was a sermon. Before the cornfield…Before the crows learned his name…There was a man
The Last Sermon of Malachi Read More »
The photograph looked ordinary at first. On a quiet Saturday morning, the small neighborhood yard sale did not look very exciting. A few folding tables stood on the sidewalk in front of a modest brick house. Cardboard boxes sat under the tables. Old blankets were spread across the grass with
The Man in the Photograph Read More »
I was born on a small cabbage farm just outside of Racine, Wisconsin on April 14, 1900. The lone son of two God-fearing German immigrants, I was raised on hard work, religious reverence, and teetotalism.My parents first moved to the United States in August of 1898 with the hopes of
Stacy and I switched the power on and sent ourselves to an early grave. I say an early grave, but I don’t expect there will be anyone left to bury us. It was an honest mistake, one we couldn’t have foreseen. To any who may read these words after the
A Thing of Flesh and Copper Read More »
The first time I dreamed of Rose, I didn’t think it mattered. I’m not the kind of person who reads into dreams. I’m practical, tired, the sort of man who forgets to eat and forgets to water plants until they die quietly. I don’t believe in signs. I believe in
It was October 1st of 1967, and the campus of Montauk University sat quiet and still in the new morning hours. The sky was dark, street lamps bright, and all students living on campus were asleep. Except, of course, for two figures who sauntered down the sidewalk towards the campus
I still remember the night it happened. I was nine. We were driving home from my grandma’s house late, rain pounding the windshield so hard the wipers couldn’t keep up. Dad was humming along to the radio, Mom was half-asleep in the passenger seat. Then the truck came out of
It seemed as if I were awakening from a dream when I snapped to in the middle of the sidewalk, stopping in my tracks while people behind me yelled as they bumped into me. The cold winter air brushed my cheeks, yet that was the only thing that seemed familiar.
The air was foggy, so much so I was barely able to see my hand before my eyes. The mist surrounding me was dense and the heat added to my pleasurable experience. I took the highest seat, my favorite and I was alone. The solitude was thoroughly enjoyable, something I
Chlorine stained the concrete like blood in the glow of the pool lights. Tree limbs offered dying leaves as fall slipped away into winter.“Are there cameras?” she asked, searching the far corners of the pool yard hidden by shadows.“If so they don’t work,” he said. “This area got overlooked a
As soon as Paul Anderson walked into Bennett’s Bait and Tackle, I immediately thought of the homemade missing persons sign stapled on the corkboard by the bathroom, constructed with the hope of it aiding in finding his missing son. Then my mind drifted to an image of the poorly written
“Delta squad, clear that building!” The command ripped from Tim Brinley’s throat, echoing through the blistering desert air, a phrase so familiar to him it was more reflex than speech. This was his second deployment, and he knew with weary certainty it would be his last. The monotony of military
A lot of questions have been asked of me lately by many different parties. My parents want to know why I almost refuse to leave the house anymore. My doctor wants to know what has been causing my insomnia. The police want to know my whereabouts and actions on the
The Wood Witch’s Ritual Read More »
His heavy corpse clings to her back like an undesirable cloak. His rotting flesh melting into her pores, moulding itself to her structure. She used to be able to peel his skin away with her finger tips but now she must use a pair of blunt scissors she carries in
Love is but a knife we sear ourselves with Read More »
Lady Vermella’s piano was large and black. It was covered in a thick, feathery layer of dust. Its keys were turning yellow. It pounded out a strange, haunting melody every night under Lady Vermella’s fingers.Lady Vermella lived in an ancient manor on the top of a hill above the town
Read Part One here We both drove back to the station and handed in our gear and changed. I could still smell the faint odor clinging to my uniform. I suppressed the urge to gag as I threw it back into my locker without any finesse, just wanting to get
Just Another Summer in ‘95 Part Two Read More »
I want to say this happened in the early summer when our park was full of hikers, campers, and tourists. Montana had its beauty in those summer months, so I couldn’t blame them.A lot of the tourists hadn’t spent a day camping or even been backpacking. A lot of them
Just Another Summer in ‘95 Read More »
There were rules in our house that no one ever had to say out loud. Don’t speak when he’s drinking.Don’t look at her when she’s disappointed.Don’t cry where anyone can hear you.Don’t be noticed. Don’t be loud. Don’t be a problem. Silence kept us alive. It was the kind of
He Said He Would Protect Me Read More »
1 – ‘Crime’ The night was dark and cold, wind was blowing through the trees but otherwise there was hardly a sound to be heard. This silence and solitude suited the killer just fine. He worked alone, keeping to the shadows…exploiting cracks in the social fabric and indulging his sadistic
I’ve always been a big fan of Halloween. When I was a kid, that was of course because of the candy and the chocolate bars. As I got older and entered my teenage years, that changed. My love for the holiday remained, but that was because of the costumes and
Little Monsters of Hallows’ Eve Read More »
My name is Lydia. I’m 30 years old, and I love celebrating Halloween with my best friend, Martha. Martha and I have been best friends ever since we were ten years old. We do everything together, and I wouldn’t be where I am today without her. You see, when I
Riley, My Haunted Halloween Doll Read More »
Barker watched from his car with a morbid sense of curiosity as the mark crossed the dual carriageway and went into the greasy spoon Cafe opposite. Barker had been on the trail of the mark for almost a month before finally catching up, just outside of Glasgow. Dragging on the
