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Monsters, Creatures, and Cryptids

Carrots and Whiskey

The alarm was horribly loud in his left ear, a persistent high pitched beep forcing him from his dreamless, alcohol-soaked slumber into a hangover-heavy wakefulness. Jim groaned, rolling away from the insistent machine and negligently silencing it with a lucky swipe of his arm. His head felt thick and fuzzy, […]

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Krampus

Each year on December 5th, a person in my hometown is brutally murdered. The police are at a loss. With each victim, a poetic story is left behind. Below are the stories from the past three years. * * * * * * Fredrik loved to smile, for he was

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It Wasn’t a Reindeer

“Christ,” I muttered to myself, as the first flakes of snow started to fall.  They gathered in fuzzy clumps over the windshield before my wipers cleared them away.  I’d been waiting for fifteen — no, twenty minutes now — in my sister’s driveway.  Had I chosen to wait inside with

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My Neighbor Is Using Power Tools Past 10 PM

I swear I’m not being that pedantic asshole neighbor. Noise ordinance starts at 10 pm and most people respect it because there are a lot of young kids in the neighborhood. But my neighbor across the street is remodeling his house and last Wednesday he started cutting things at 10:30

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The Statues

I never liked going to my aunt Paola’s house. Honestly, I never liked her either. She’s a creepy bible-thumping Jesus fanatic and she’d always circle over me like a vulture. But none of that creeped me out like her house did. It was old, run-down and filled with weird religious

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Alone

Part 1: Good Will Hunting I’m a producer for Alone, the TV show on History. This story is about a participant we had in season 2, whose footage we had to cut. I’ve never felt comfortable talking about this before, especially because it opens me up for liability. After all,

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Spearhead Unlit Frontier

The message has been smuggled via a plaintext file saved to a MicroSD that I pray survives its trip to the surface. If the journalist or civilian receiving this can read this message, I am posting covertly from a deep marine lab that officially does not exist. Its codename, as

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I Grew Up

My father died from pulmonary hypertension when I was only four years old. I still remember the night he had the heart-attack, watching from the third-floor window of my great-grandmother’s bedroom as he was wheeled on a stretcher across the driveway. Hell, I still remember the bare and twisted trees

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They Put up a Wall Around Our Town

The last survivors gathered at the town center, all of us desperate for our daily ration. Dark skies loomed above, obscured by bizarre clouds, hiding us from daylight. Ironically, our town had once been nick-named the “Sunshine City,” a faint memory of better times. On that particular day, it had

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Toby

It was in the year of our Lord 1778, when I, Frank Aaron McDougall, made voyage from Ireland, carried upon the wind of freedom was I bound towards that shining light across the sea, to meet up with me brother Newly and his kinfolk, in the Carolinas. It was a

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The Holy Drinker

As Nick lifted the glass to his lips once more, he felt his shirt sleeve pull free from the sticky puddle of spilled cocktails that had accumulated throughout the night. He tilted his head back and tossed the remainder of the drink into the back of his throat. The burn

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The Man In My Bedroom Window

For as long as I can remember, there has been a man in my bedroom window. It seems strange to say, I know, but it is true. From the earliest, fuzziest memories I have all the way up to now, he’s been there. Looking at me. In my first memories

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