The Settlement of SaultonSometime in the 1800s “Keep walking, boy.” The deep, mysterious voice kept replaying over and over in his head. He did as it told him though, not once questioning any motive. He wasn’t sure where he was, or who the voice belonged to, but he did know …
“In local news: Blackwater Lake, a long-time staple of Blackwater, Florida has been bought by Amos Entertainment Company. The company recently came forward, citing that they intend to drain the lake to make way for the development of an addition to their new chain of movie theaters. Although wildlife enthusiasts …
Emilie, Stan and I enjoyed our grandmother’s tales. During school breaks, Mom and Dad drove the three of us to her home in Plimmerton. It was a small coastal village, an hour’s drive north of Wellington. Everything about the place was tiny. It was simple. There were three cafes. There …
There’s an old, abandoned mission in the hills west of Tucumcari, New Mexico. It’s about a 3-hour hike from the nearest access point by car. It’s not marked on any map and there’s no clear trail to it, but if you had a day or two to spend searching, you …
The roaring twenties became a different time for all of America as the economy took a massive plummet. The depression sank about every industry like a stone and families of every class felt the impact. Throughout the Hoovervilles set up around Riverbend, there was one man who seemed prosperous despite …
The top half of Councilman Jones’ body hung by a steel cable looped around his neck and tied off to an old oak tree on one end. It was still dripping blood, bones and veins and torn bits of intestines dangling down where the legs should start. The cable was stretched through the air, over to an ash tree ten yards away from where the other half of the body was hanging by the legs.
Moving day. A chance to start fresh in a new place. New opportunities, new community, new home. Home. Not just a house. To Eric Sherman, this was a place he could finally call home. No ex-wives to hound him for alimony. No disapproving parents to question his absence of faith …
The trail was too quiet. I knew she was watching me from somewhere either up the steep slope to my right or from the tangle of undergrowth to my left. I would have welcomed the snap of a twig to alert me to her position but she was the apex …
Peter Pan is not what most people think he is… or I guess I should say, would be, but honestly, he’s real. I have not only seen him, but have also… felt him. I met Peter Pan when I was about 11 years old. It had been a hard day …
Simza stumbled through the dark forest, tripping over indiscernible tree roots in the darkness. She sensed that something was wrong with the baby, and was afraid, but she had no one to confide in. She had wandered away from the camp when she started feeling the sharp pains in her …
I. Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary …
After a short time of exploring the Oklahoma territory where they were forced to go, a group of Native Americans stumbled upon a mysterious plant while hunting. This plant looked like a gnarled tree root, with so many twists and turns within its seemingly fragile length that one could barely …
We all have that friend who we wish we could have done more for. Who we wish could have done better. I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently. See, it all goes back to my friend Clark, and the horror we both encountered six years ago. Clark and I …
I grew up in a small town in the Midwest. Now when I say that it’s a small town, I mean other people from my state have never even heard of it. That being said, for such a small town it actually has a pretty dark history. In 1927, my …
I found it three weeks ago, or rather, I found them. A knotted circle of fur, claws, and death. Six rats, tangled together by their tails, thrashed about my front lawn with little direction. Their shrieks pierced the air of what was normally a quiet street. I was going outside …
“I want to hear about the Spindler.” Logan listened as the voices of his three friends talked. He watched as the fire before him dwindled. “You sure you wanna do that, Lexi? In these woods?” Logan’s back was firmly set against the back of a broad, old oak; he sat …
Jack Mckay huddled in the cold midnight street with a pale green sleeping bag encasing his lower half. Spindled trails of light reflected off the gleaming roads from damp lampposts. But the cold wasn’t what gave Jack his nightly jitters—not by a long shot. The small flame bewitched his green …
Once upon a time in a land far, far away there was a story that became well known in all the kingdoms of men. It started as a whisper in the back of ale-houses and progressed to the point of street-corner news barkers. No one knew if the story was …
During nightly hours of yore, in a time of horror and war, I would sit on a dank oak bench with my eyes shut, calm and closure. Then, my eyes open when I sense a figure approach me with grace. One of nature’s eccentric frights perched itself above my shoulder. …
Dear Mr. Valentine, As per your request, I’ve collected reliable morsels of information from the many and often incoherent accounts that detail the events which transpired in Merton on September 2nd, 1996. It is only with great reluctance that I reveal this information to you, for I fear for my …
People always get the wrong end of the stick when I tell them that my grandad was a Nazi. I mean, of course he was in the Leipzig branch of the Hitler Youth as a teen, joined the party when old enough and, in December of 1943, was drafted into …
When I was a child, the mummers came to town. It was not quite Solstice’s Eve yet. The nights were long and dark, and most nights a thin, jagged coat of haw frost would top the trees in glistening frigidity. What few horses the rich owned would stamp and whinny …
I consider myself to be a logical being. My experiences in life have led me to such a conclusion that approaching problems from a skeptical and logical viewpoint is in my best interest and is, as far as I understand it, the best way to live one’s life. Not to …
Bitter cold was nothing new for Northern Alberta, especially not for January, and the cacophony of wind that tore through the woodlands was nothing if not wholly familiar and almost comforting to the one that huddled in the tree line, obliterated from vision by the pitch of night and the …
