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Ghosts and Spirits

Hell’s Landlord

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 …

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The Black Rock Chapel Horror part three

Read part one here Read part two here With haste, the pair quietly exited the sanctuary and walked through the town that saw it’s citizens begin making their way to Black Rock Chapel. “Wednesday mass…”, Father Carroway muttered, silently chastising himself for the lapse in memory. “What is it, Father?”, …

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The Black Rock Chapel Horror part two

Read part one here Father Carroway wandered about in the ever-extended void of subconscious. Unable to feel or perceive anything anymore, he wondered if he had indeed perished through either the means of the serpent’s venom or the trauma of the crash down the spiraling stone stairs. “Am I dead?”, …

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I Worked As An Overnight Security Guard At a Local College. I Quit After Seeing Something In the Parking Lot

I had just gone through a pretty rough divorce a few months ago. For the brief two years my ex and I were married, most of our nights ended up turning into shouting matches and insults. We were always so loud we had gotten several noise complaints and an eventual …

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guardian angel

My Guardian Angel Doesn’t Protect Me

“Get the paddles!” I remembered falling. It was nice at first. The air rushing past me as the butterflies in my stomach multiplied with each passing second. “CLEAR!” Then, there was the screaming. Not from my mouth, but from the pedestrians below, scrambling to run away from the landing zone. …

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Don’t Fall Asleep

Dreary apartment, Manhattan, NY. Do you ever get this uneasy feeling that you’re constantly being watched? At home, at work, when you’re eating, sleeping, watching TV, making love … it’s always there, the faint voice in the back of your mind, whispering in your ears that something is not right. …

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man wooley face

The Man with the Woolly Face

I want to tell you the story of a bizarre thing that happened to me five years ago. It was what you might call a life changing experience, a metaphorical kick in the balls that put me on the straight and narrow after years spent in a vicious cycle of …

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the lighthouse project

The Lighthouse Project

In early April of 2016, a study was conducted on the psychological effects of solitary confinement under the influence of lights. It was on a Sunday morning when tragedy transpired for Guy XXXXX*. *At their request, we have omitted the names of those involved who did not wish them included.* …

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it had my mothers voice

It Had My Mother’s Voice

The head of yet another six-inch nail is forced crudely into the hard flesh of what feels like the millionth wooden plank, its end contorted by the panicked blow it had been dealt by my shaking hands. There must have been about forty or fifty wooden boards covering every possible …

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You Can’t Argue With The Statistics

“The 6:13PM service from Penrith to London is delayed by 23 minutes, Grand Central Trains apologises for any inconvenience caused,” mumbles a distorted voice over the Tannoy speaker. Daniel clutches his weekend bag in one hand, the tattered leather handles worn away from excessive use feeling uncomfortable in his sweaty …

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My Mother thinks She’s Dead

My Mother has been acting strange lately after coming home from meeting her friends. She’s no longer been her bright cheery self. She sits in her chair crouched in a fetal position with deep sadness carved into her face. If she’s ever walking, she’s pacing slowly and shifting her weight …

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Confessions of a Belfast Cop

My mother died suddenly and unexpectantly sometime in the early hours of Sunday morning. The coroner said she suffered a massive stroke and her death would have been instantaneous. This brought me some small comfort, knowing that she hadn’t suffered in the end. I was the one who found her. …

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Every night I’m stopped at a roadblock that shouldn’t exist

My name is Sean. Actually, that’s not my real name, but it will have to do. I live in a small tight knit community – the type where everyone knows everybody else. So, if I published my story under my real identity, I’d become a local laughingstock. Either that, or …

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