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Folklore and Folktales

The Grim Black Shuck

The Grim (Black Shuck)

It was a dark, foggy night, as it really should be whenever something eerie happens. I was walking from my dad’s house over to my mom’s. I’d had a fight with my dad about something, the topic of which I’ve since forgotten, and realized at 17 years old that I

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A letter from Dundee lunatic asylum

A Letter From Dundee Lunatic Asylum

First I would like to begin by extending my eternal gratitude to you for reaching out to me with a genuine open mind. So many have come to me after I had ceased in my search for someone who will listen, but all have been naught but seekers of wealth

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Please help me. I'm scared, and I don't know what to do

Please help me. I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do

I don’t know else how to say this other than I just saw a titanic skeleton in the woods of Lassen National Park. I understand this place is usually reserved for fun, creepy stories, but I have genuinely never been more terrified or confused. What I’m seeing is real, and

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The marble slab part 1

The Marble Slab Part 1

The nonstop pitter-patter of the cold rain against my bedroom window, set the mood. I found myself rubbing my eyes unable to follow the now swaying lines. My book was a jumbled mess of dyslexic text. I spent another minute trying to decipher the words, but my suddenly exhausted state

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Wendigo psychosis

Wendigo Psychosis

Winter pounded on the door and walls around the wooden shack the men had found and hunkered down in. The small military force was at their wit’s and body’s ends; they were exhausted, soaking wet, and low on munitions, rations, and morale. Their survival was based on how much body

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The Selkie on the shore

The Selkie on the Shore

‘I plan to kill myself.’ ‘You’re far beyond planning,’ the creature wheezes through its nostrils. The artist, squat on his rock, was at first astonished by the tiny pup calling for him at the cliff’s base, but the feeling waned as the tide receded. It is not at all odd

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Quiet Stanley

Quiet Stanley

The town I grew up in, Lay Marsh, was a pretty average place. Parents moved there because they wanted a quiet, safe environment for their kids to grow up. They were upper-lower class, hoping one day to be lower middle class, maybe middle-middle class but few imagined a life as

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The schoolhouse

The Schoolhouse

Storytelling has been a popular pastime among humans as long as language has existed. Through this telling of stories, folklore of strange creatures, haunted places, cryptids, witches, and other supernatural occurrences have evolved over millennia. Accounts of mysterious and terrifying things within the woodlands of North America have existed since

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The primeval horror

The Primeval Horror

Please do not come looking for me upon reading this letter, for the likelihood of my death is now more certain than it ever was before. I refused to heed your warnings about pursuing the Pyli Scripts, and now I understand why. They are after me, Arbuckle, and when they

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The creek of a thousand corpses

The Creek of A Thousand Corpses

It was one of those stormy nights during my summer trip in the tropics when I stumbled upon that old tunnel. It was the longest and scariest night of my life. I did not think I would ever get out of that forest alive. I was badly injured, weather-beaten and

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Poppys peril

Poppy’s Peril

It’s Halloween eve. The night is delightfully crisp, with a bright, low-lying moon. The thrill of anticipation can be felt in the air. The autumn leaves blow with a scritch-scratch along the pavement outside, accompanied by a moderate wind that chases them playfully into every corner and crevice, around trees,

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The 8th Shrine

The 8th Shrine

It was in the late 80’s, a few years before the dissolution of the Soviet Union. I lived in Moscow where I studied Archaeology. I had a roommate from Tbilisi in Georgia (the country – which refers to itself as Kartvelia – , not the US State). Every couple weeks

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the tale of sam fuller

The Tale of Sam Fuller

Before I get to me, I need to start here. There’s a story people began telling in our town of Casper. They call it the Tale of Sam Fuller. A while back, Sam and his little brother Toby were playing by the lake. Sam was using a rock to write

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dont knock on wood

DON’T KNOCK ON WOOD

Don’t knock on wood. Ever again. I know that sounds crazy. But trust me. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth it because you might not be ready for what you’re inviting into your life… I definitely wasn’t. About a month ago, I packed up what few possessions I owned

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