The leather chair in Dr. Mitchell’s office always squeaked when I shifted my weight. I stared at the geometric patterns on his rug, trying to find the words. “It’s the same dream, Dr. Mitchell.” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Every single night. It always starts the same way.” […]
The Oakridge Field Trip Read More »
I — THE GREAT AWAKENING HAS ARRIVED “Where do you live, man?” I asked, reaching out to grab the Skol can left by the window. “Cuiabá.” “Man… that’s a beautiful city.” “You’ve been there?” “Yeah. Made a lot of deliveries in the capital.” “So why do you want to go
I am certain that my fascination with the gone and forgotten stems from my own fear of impermanence. Leaving something behind when I am gone is of utmost importance to me, so I have dedicated my life to preserving and sharing the legacies and lives of others who have passed.
Mr Conrad’s Final Tale Read More »
Read Part One here THERE ONCE WAS A PREACHERALL SKIN AND BONESNO ONE KNEW HIS FIRST NAMEHIS LAST ONE WAS JONES This clusterfuck all started on Halloween. At an emergency Town Hall meeting, we’d all come together to discuss the obvious: we were starving. At the rate we were going,
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 »
March 2nd, 2026 I don’t really know why I’m writing this down. Maybe because it felt too real to just forget about, and I’ve been sitting at my desk for the past hour trying to convince myself it was just a dream. Of course it was just a dream. I’m
A Hole In The Concrete Read More »
On March 1st, 1992, a co‑worker at a health insurance office in Sydney brought something into work that none of us had ever seen before. He came in early, before most of the staff arrived, and sat down in the break room with his personal photo book in his hands.
Jason watched the hands of the clock ticking. The hour hand was moving to nine o’clock. The hour he dreaded so much. His eyes darted around the room. In the corner his blue lava lamp cast fleeting shadows that resembled dogs, silhouettes and long-fingered hands, prancing and clawing up and
The Eyes of the Angel 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
“Why does a writer write? Because they must.” -Anton Richards These words have been repeating in my head for the last week. They pound in my brain like a jackhammer. They prevent my mind from resting and keep me awake at night. That is why I am here at 3am.
The Curse Of Imagination Read More »
My lucid dreams have become lucid nightmares against my will. I don’t know where else to write about it other than my dream journal, so in my journal it’ll go. Hell, I’ll probably post this entry verbatim and see if this has happened to other people. My break time is
The madness of the eyes is the lure of the abyss. Sirens lurk in the dark depths of the pupils as they lurk at the bottom of the sea, that I know for sure… Jean Lorrain, Monsieur de Phocas Hidden along the gloomy northwest coast of England, where the churning
Written below is the last known statement of Benjamin Harper, a former parish priest serving the village of Barton, Cheshire. Mr Harper was relieved of his position by Bishop Gerald Ellison of the Chester diocese and taken here, to Byron House, a home for the mentally disturbed, shortly after suffering
The Dreams Beneath The Witch Tree Read More »
That’s what we called it. The idiot mile. We used to think it sounded cool, but the adults talked about it and hyped it up so much that we just got a bit sick of the idea, and started calling it that. I grew up in a small village, secluded
To begin with, my name is Samuel Terrence. I was a college dropout living a pretty sad life with my parents until a blackout that occurred in 2014.I recently posted a journal entry titled ‘Blackout – 8/15/14’ that detailed a handful of weeks that would be the beginning of a
I was four years old the first time I saw the God in the Gutter. The memory didn’t form until my mother mentioned that one summer I started shrieking while on a walk. When prompted I pointed to a storm drain and said I didn’t like the man peeking out.
The God In The Gutter Read More »
The Advertisement“Lookout wanted. For more information, call 1-800-200-2230” My eyes scanned the sentence thoroughly. The ad intrigued me, I never was one meant for city life. However, for the past four years that’s exactly what my life had been. Just another cog in the machine, wasting away at a desk
I woke up sweaty and in a daze. Most nights this is normal for me but not tonight. Something about my bedroom was odd, something wasn’t right. I felt around next to me and grabbed my phone and checked the time – it’s midnight. Seven more hours of sleep before
The Front Porch Light Read More »
Mike and his mother Sarah lived in a sharply white two-story house about eight miles from the city and half a mile away from a red diner which worked throughout the week and the weekend. The house was adjacent to naught else but the road and the forest. Mike was
The Man in the Attic Read More »
‘Must you have battle in your heart forever?The bloody toil of combat?Old contender, will you not yield to the immortal gods?This nightmare cannot die, being eternal evil itself.The horror, pain and chaos.There is no fighting it.No power can fight it.All that avails is flight.’ -The Odyssey. Dear James,I write to
The Shambler In The Attic Read More »
Rollercoasters. I hated them. I always did. When it came to school trips to the local theme parks, I always sat them out. I could enjoy the lazy rapids or the log flumes, the tilt-a-whirls or the space wheels; anything with a bit of height to feel the light breeze
It was night and gloomy and somber and serene. There was the wardrobe in front of me and on its higher corners dust had gathered and yet within the somberness the wooden fabric seemed to stretch out cosmically, darkly away. I was sitting and looking at my computer when I
A Million Tinges of Red – NGC 1569 Read More »
The first time I visited the Otherworld was when I was eleven. One moment I’d been having some peaceful dream I hardly remember, and the next, I was shooting up in bed with a gasp.I pulled my blanket tighter around myself as I looked around uneasily. Something was wrong. The
A Clairvoyants Guide to the Otherworld Read More »
My vision was hazy. I could feel warm liquid trickling down my forehead as I attempted to lift my head. The car’s blinker thundered inside of me like a heavy bass. I tasted the blood inside of my mouth, and the coolness of the night seeped into the cracks and
