This is such a stupid idea. Why are we even doing this? Those were the thoughts that arose in my mind on that chilly, eerie evening. Sitting in the passenger seat of the dimly-lit car which belonged to my best friend Matt, I peered out the window and glanced up […]
The Devil’s Chamber Read More »
I won’t bore you all with the details of my work, that can be for another time. What is important is that I have made the decision to share my case files with the general public. Most of the cases I’ve been involved in have revealed themselves to be distinctly
The Fugavi Incident: A Drake Blackwood Case File Read More »
Murder is an incredibly human concept, when you think of it. All species kill; to protect their young, to cull those unfit, most often in order to stay alive- everyone needs to eat. And yet, in nature, all causes of death are natural. We exist simply for existence’ sake. All
Frank, Thomas, and Kirby enter the office break room at approximately 12:25 pm on a Tuesday afternoon. Each man holds various containers designed for holding food and drink, and as they lazily slump into the fiberglass chairs that were haphazardly pushed under the table after their previous uses, the room
I’ve always liked old horror movies, but I never really was a silent film enthusiast. I just found them too artsy and strange to really enjoy. It’s like watching a talkies era movie where everybody has been replaced by mimes and with awful camera quality. Though you have to respect
The Silent Film Museum Read More »
I’ve often thought it likely, though have no way to really prove, that in every sizable town in America there is at least one area that feels a bit strange somehow. Maybe it’s a single building that was witness to a grisly murder or maybe it’s a slum full of
You know that new kind of burger? The one made from cells taken from the skin of cows. Yeah, seems like the science teams and research labs finally created a way of making food from basically nothing, and you’d think that’d be a great thing, but I’m not so sure.
Fine Russian Cuisine Read More »
The McCarter House in Greenburg, TN is fairly well-known by now, but at the time that my wife and I were looking to buy it, it was only infamous to the locals and we knew nothing about it. It is a pale, white farmhouse on a bald hill just off
The McCarter House Read More »
They called it the doll cemetery. It was a small valley, barren and deserted, behind a hill that hid it from the sight of the town. Nothing grew on its arid soil; the few trees that had tried were long dead, turned into wooden skeletons that stretched their hooked fingers
Okay so my story is actually one my grandmother told me about a house near where she grew up. I think she was about twelve when it happened so it was probably around nineteen thirty three? Thirty four? So she grew up in South Carolina, kind of out in the
Whenever Gideon said something like “This is going to be fucking awesome” the end result was, inevitably, disaster. But that was ok. Aidan loved disaster. So when Gideon showed up on that gleaming summer Thursday morning and asked if he wanted to do something, Aidan immediately said yes. The repetitive
On Floating Bodies Read More »
I want to set down recent events in my life, because I’m afraid that this may be my last chance. To begin with, my name is Leon Cowles. I was born in Provo, Utah, although I have lived most of my life here, in Portland, Oregon. I’ve always been a
The Beast in the Woods Read More »
Anne was new to the city, and she knew without a doubt that it wasn’t the place for her. She was used to winding country roads, gentle breezes on the porch, and the rustle of the wind through the trees. Here she was simply surrounded by angry drivers, angry cyclists,
(The following was found in an envelope on a bus bound for Chicago) My name is Jason Grimes and I am writing this so that when the room is eventually opened people will perhaps understand the things they find within it. And so that I will not be thought of
I can’t sleep. I have to share because maybe I won’t feel if I share. Dr. Kirsch says to write and get it off my chest. Writing about it might release me from it. What should I title this? “Therapy”? I’m currently seated at a computer terminal in a little,
The Crawling House On Black Pond Road Read More »
This all began with a family trip to Las Vegas; the year was 2009 and we decided to go on a little vacation for my 20th birthday. Now that I think about it, why couldn’t my parents have just waited a year and made the Las Vegas trip at my
I’m Not Saying It Was Aliens Read More »
There is a town in the Deep South that is spoken of in whispers around campfires and by drunks in bars. No one knows its exact location, as those who have been there can’t agree on where they were when they arrived. Its location has been speculated to be in
Welcome To Sandalwood Read More »
((Author Note: The following explanation of how to get to Brach’s is true; I’ve been that way. Go if you dare, but don’t enter. Seriously. If you would like to skip to the inside of the factory, simply search for *****)) The train sped down the elevated tracks. I saw
Brach’s Candy Factory Read More »
I always admired my grandfather’s courage. He had fought in the war on what we nowadays think of as the wrong side, but he had never been a believer in the cause. Sometimes a rifle is pressed in your hand and your choice is either to fire and worry about
My Grandfather Knew Why We Run from the Dark Read More »
Within the tree lines of Aokigahara lies a dark and brooding history. For many years this place has been a key location for the people of Japan and even tourists from around the world to come throughout time going as far back as the nineteenth century with a common goal…
All great writers claim to suffer from insomnia at least once in their lives, although I’m sure a bulk of them misuse the term and glorify the disorder. After all, all artists “struggle” and it seems that lack of sleep runs common among those who strive to hammer out the
The Lights in the House Below Read More »
The streets, roads and dusty lanes of Colombia have been fertile territory for myths and legends since before the arrival of the Spaniards. Tales of ‘La Patasola’, a one-legged wailing banshee that forever sought her child, and of ‘El Duende’, a backwards-footed goblin that led travelers to their doom, nibbled
Linda, I’m not sure whether this letter will ever reach you, but I’m going to put it in the mailbox and hope for the best. It seems unlikely anyone’s actually going to deliver it, but this may be my last chance to contact the outside world, so I’m going to
“Daddy, why do they hate us?” “Oh sweetie, it may seem like they hate us but really it is more like they chose us.” “But Daddy, I didn’t want to be picked!” “Neither did I pumpkin, but unfortunately it is the will of greater men and a greater God. This
Lessons From the Shadows of Hiroshima Read More »
