If you’re reading this, you’re probably pretty confused. I know I was. I’ll explain everything, but I’m going to start at the beginning. That’s the only way that this will make sense, and maybe the only way you’ll believe me. It all started with that damn job. Mall security. Just […]
One need not be a chamber to be haunted, One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. ― Emily Dickinson What does a madman’s mind look like from the inside? Does it look like an empty house with vandalized masonry, broken gates, cracked cement pathways
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
The Nevada heat rippled off the asphalt, distorting the long, empty road ahead. I wiped sweat from my brow and adjusted the camera strap around my neck, squinting at the horizon. No sign of the fox. No sign of anything, really. I should’ve been writing a real story—something that actually
If You Ever Stop in Ashbrook, Don’t Ask About the Children Read More »
8/16 I was home alone when the blackout hit my house. I was sitting on my back patio reading a book when I heard the air unit to my left slowly power down until it ticked to a complete stop. The lights in the house abruptly shut off, the emergency
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I put on my running shoes with springs, designed to cushion the impact on the ground. It was my nightly ritual, something I did every single day without fail: running to the neighboring town, keeping my body busy and my mind free of thoughts. It was almost five o’clock, and
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
I had no prior belief in the preternatural, paranormal, or mythical. I was very much the atheist and a practical man, but the events of that night changed me for the worse. I’m hoping that someone might know what I’m dealing with, and whether I should stay looking over my
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Extract from records found at scene, author unknown. Dated October 1883: Matted fur stuck to the Beast’s sides, sweat dripping down its flank as it expelled rancid breath. Thick ropes of saliva swung from pus-stained teeth, protruding from black-lipped jaws like shattered battlements. A single black eye glinted out at
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The flutters appeared, as they always did, when the noise of confessions ceased and gave way to silence. When the rectory’s door blocked guidance-seeking and pardon-thirsty parishioners from reaching their priest. When Father Doug was allowed a moment of his own and could shed the coat of sins and guilt
Cole stood alone on a hill in a world without color. There was fog all around him, and he did not know where he was. The boy could not see more than five feet ahead of him in any direction. Only the dead grass beneath his feet offered any clue
Gunnar Viermetz, a hunter for a specialized organization, scanned the side door of his reinforced white van. He looked at his contract for details about the animal his bosses wanted him to hunt. It was large, covered in fur, and was killing people. “Helpful.” He mumbled, shaking his head and
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A young, dark blond woman with a backpack checked the list of stores in her hand. Of the seven names, she crossed out four. She checked her phone for directions to the antique store Gifts of Old. She put her phone away and read the back of the paper, a
They said it was nothing. A routine rescue op at a facility known as the Tantalus Site. But that quickly proved untrue. Terribly, horrifically untrue. The report said we’d be flying into the Baghlan Province of Northern Afghanistan where rugged mountains cut through a remote and arid wilderness. According to
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I watched the fog creep along the ground and through the treeline at the edge of the property in a daze. I had been staring for a while, slowly realizing that I was still tightly gripping a mug. My hand trembled as I brought the tepid coffee to my lips,
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Driving late at night was never something I enjoyed. There were too many variables that could go wrong. A headlight could go out, I could get lost, maybe even fall asleep at the wheel, and worst of all break down with no one else awake to help fix the car.
When a heart fell out of the medicine cabinet, Carrie Pickett screamed. Not two seconds ago, she’d wandered in, relieved herself, and opened the swing-door for her sleeping pills. Out it rolled, rebounding off the sink and against the floor with a sickening plop! The sudden movement startled her, and
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When I first saw the stranger, he was standing in front of Lester McCreed’s house. The stranger was dressed simply enough—overalls, a plaid shirt, a brown cap, and one of those surgical masks you see everywhere nowadays. I couldn’t see his hands on account of the thick, rawhide gloves he
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Sophia and her family – her mother Lila and her father Johnathan, lived in a little village where the grass carried dew in the mornings and the evenings were bright with the stars and the moon carrying faint rays of light over the fields. She had been nine years old
Grandpa Cobalt hated letting things go. Whether it was the wobbly chair he kept in his study or his favorite warped record he fed to the gramophone—looping the same groove over and over. He was a tall man with a frosty thin hairline and a nose capable of the most
The days all started with the briefing room—a wall-to-wall palette of aged pastels and stark, hospital grayness. In the center of our little room, an oval-shaped table dominated the space with every seat filled with a tired nurse. From one of the windows, a bar of morning light often slipped
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Tuesday, March 16, 2021 My name is Todd Marston, I’m a collector of sorts, collecting old bullet casings from each country I visit and showcase them in my museum. I found some strange trinkets over the years but that was nothing compared to what I found in the Czech Republic.
In light of recent events, I think it is my public duty to share what I know about this case and the person it pertains to, patient confidentiality be damned. My name is Doctor Ian Liang. I am a psychiatrist at the St. Christina Institute for the Mentally Disturbed in
I never remember feeling sick. Just a sudden headache, and my dog barking as I collapsed to the ground. The world had vanished beneath my feet, and my consciousness was trapped in darkness, disconnected from my body. For what felt like an eternity, I floated through the emptiness of the
