Farm work was foreign to me, but I needed the money. I was having trouble finding a job since the move to Georgia, and a friend of a friend had mentioned an old estate in the country run by some old woman that their aunt knew. A few strings were […]
I see my toes peeking over the edge of a perfect, circular hole in the ground. There’s nothing in the hole but pitch darkness in screeching contrast with the smooth beige of the ground I’m standing on. Everything is quiet. I am not here to fall in. Faint scratching heightens
Every town has its own set of urban legends, or “ghost stories,” if you will; alligators in the sewers, crop circles, cave spirits, the like. I, personally, never believed them. They all seemed highly unrealistic. They were just myths created by adults to scare kids away from certain areas, or
It was about a year ago, in June of 1928, that I entered the New England convalescent’s home where I sit writing this missive. I do not wish to record its exact location, for if this manuscript somehow reaches the outside world I do not want unsavory and foolish callers
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A few months ago I was busy preparing to move to a new house when I came across something from my past. I was going through my belongings, trying to figure out what to keep and what to discard, when I found an old shoebox stuffed down the back of
Metroid 2: Secret Worlds Read More »
Okay, so I’m not going to start with one of those disclaimers where the writer assures you that what you’re reading is true. It really doesn’t matter if you believe this. No one does. I just want to write it down before I convince myself that it wasn’t real, in
He knew it was there but couldn’t see it. The basement wasn’t wired for electricity yet and was completely dark save for the light from the stairs leading up to the kitchen. With the boxes in his arms blocking his view, Gil shuffled along the basement floor feeling for the
Darkness surrounds me. And cold. And emptiness. I lay in this void not knowing how long I have lain here, and in the initial grogginess of my awakening I know not why I am here. I turn my gaze from side to side, but can see nothing in the enveloping
The pungent, acrid smell permeated the old home that was now mine; I knew that the smell would fade with time, and that I would become accustomed to it as time went on. It was a beautiful little two-story Victorian home in the heart of a small historic town in
I’ve always been an art enthusiast. I guess I inherited that from my grandmother. She had been a painter for many years, and tried her best to instill a love of the fine arts in me. I have many fond memories of trips to museums and galleries with her, gazing
Craters in Her Face Read More »
The stiff autumn wind bullied brittle leaves across the sidewalk and into the empty street on Angela’s way home from the daycare center. She wrapped her too-thin cardigan tightly around her as the leaves were marched swiftly to the opposite curb. Their colors had drained from bright fingerpaint yellows, oranges,
Danza de los Muertos Read More »
Trick or treating was something I always loved as a kid. It’s something that I was too old for, being twenty-five is something that easily puts a damper on childish festivities, and being pregnant makes it even more difficult to join in on the fun. There aren’t many happy families
My training in Comparative Literature — my miserable graduate school experience in particular — taught me that there is much productive work to be done outside of one’s own academic department. You learn new things by diving into other disciplines. In turn, you come away with fresh ideas; and in
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“Swallow something, canned, frozen, Ungodly festering source. Dragging and kicking and screaming for more, That burns, burns, burns, burns.” – Made Out Of Babies, “Cooker.” “I’m not going to sleep well,” thought Olas to himself. He was sweating through his shirt to the point where peeling it off would take
Part 1 Transferring to a new school in the middle of the semester really sucks. First off, it’s a logistical nightmare jumping into the thick of seven new classes and getting caught up with all the material that may or may not have been covered in your old school. More
In this place, where tales of terror draw forth the most loathsome of emotions, stop for a moment, dear seeker, and reflect. Is there someone that you really and truly hate? Someone who has worsened your life by their influence? A person with whom you can never hope to get
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The Journal of Dr. Edwin King ————————————– Journal Entry 01 Day: 1 Time: 0700 hours It’s fascinating, really, how far technology has come. It’s been just over a day and I already find myself gazing in awe upon the distant majesty of our planet Earth’s moon from the port windows
You lie on your bed, huddled under the covers with a fresh book from the library. Your eyes feel somewhat droopy but you are reluctant to put it down, the story too enticing to pause so you can sleep. It’s nearing the end anyway, you reason silently; not even thirty
I’m a sleepwalker. I’ve woken up on the floor, in the hedges outside, and half-hanging out of the refrigerator with orange juice spilled down the front of my shirt – just to name a few. Most of the time it would end in uncontrollable laughter for my two roommates, and
What’s in the Woods Read More »
I’m writing this down on my psychiatrist’s advice. She wants me to write as if I’m telling my story to a friend. Perhaps she’s right—maybe I do just need to let it all out. And what better way to do it than on a computer, away from prying eyes? After
August 1st marks the tenth anniversary of the day the hunters came, though none of my family celebrates this anniversary. I’m only telling this story because I owe it to those men who saved us that day. I’ll be honest. It was my fault. It was all my fault. Ten
I’ve heard there are two kinds of people: those who have vivid dreams, dreams of things and events, some impossible some mundane, some joyous some horrible — and those who have the same kinds of dreams but don’t remember them. I’d give anything if I could fit into either category.
I lifted my eyes for only a moment. His form was unspeakable. An insidious darkness, a void opened to reality. My body lost all its strength, I fell to the floor, loosing my bladder. “Speak, slave.” The demon’s voice was sharp, metallic. I strained to lift my head again, to
“Through me you go into a city of weeping; Through me you go into eternal pain; Through me you go amongst the lost people.” – Dante’s Inferno “Okay, you’re not driving if you keep that shit up.” Mark snatched the keys from Scott’s hand, who couldn’t even bother to protest
The Brimstone Conspiracy Read More »
