“58, 59, 60” I counted. Josh took note. We moved on to the next box, this one full of electrical wires. I began counting. It was nearing twelve o’clock at night. Inventory was tedious, the warehouse was hot and had no A.C., but we were getting paid overtime, which made […]
Seven feet tall. Skin gray and pallid. Eyes of pure black. Breath fetid and rotting. The smell of decay upon its lips. Wings, paper-thin and laced with veins. Blood of putrid green. That’s how I’ve always imagined it. That’s how I see it still; that unnamable, unseen presence which pursued
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These. Damn. Chills! I don’t remember when they started, I just remember having them…always having them. They’re the reason why I always wear layers, even in summer. Why I sleep with so many blankets. Why when I’m told to turn the heating down because the temperature of my room rivals
As a little girl growing up, my parents always tried to protect me by telling me legends and tales. My city is pretty notorious for strange behavior or paranormal happenings that have been occurring since the 1900s. One old tale that stands out most in my mind is the one
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I was always a quiet child. I preferred playing alone outside to being around people. My dad thought it was because I was socially undeveloped, my mom was convinced I was just more creative then my peers and too smart to relate to them. I would go off to the
I awoke in a deep sweat again. The noise always wakes me up. That damn bell…Can’t believe it’s supper already. A guard walked up to my door and unlocked it. “Supper time, ya crazy bastard. It’s your favorite.” I gulped. From his tone I could tell that it must be
I hope someone discovers this. I write to no one in particular, in hopes that this can be read by all. I write this with the intention of giving a warning- straightforward, concise, and blatant in meaning. Perhaps an explanation is due. I’ll try to keep it brief. It’s well
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Boxes. Boxes everywhere. Stacked on top of each other, scattered messily around the warehouse and some were torn open as if a child had been rummaging through them. The boxes held nothing of interest, at least not to the particular child who had been searching through them for upwards of
“JESUS!!” I cried. Being jolted from a half dose at a quarter to midnight by my new ‘Halloween theme’ ringtone didn’t do wonders for my heart-rate, especially since I’d momentarily forgot I’d changed the tone at all that day. Took me a while to find my phone stuck down the
If you’re reading this right now, it means I am no longer of this world. Either I’ve committed suicide or the Plague Artist has grown bored with my existence. I suppose it doesn’t matter which. This isn’t really a warning more than it is my will. I first encountered the
A shadowy wind swept through the pines, shivering the trees with a cold they had not yet known. The creaking pines collided with one another in the freezing air. Snow from the bristles was prized off and carried into nothingness. The moon illuminated the snow with a sinister whiteness and
She was holding his hand tightly when he heard a noise come from off in the shadows. Beyond the ring cast from the solitary light above he could see only darkness. She must have sensed his sudden distress as she placed her hand against his chest. Again a noise, it
The thing about nightmares is that when you wake up, it’s supposed to be over. You’re supposed to wake up screaming for mommy, turn the lights on, and see your familiar pooh bear in the corner, next to the toppled over Thomas the Tank Engine and Barbie’s Dream House. The
I always had a typical child’s fears while growing up. From the whole “I think I see something moving in the shadows!” to “I need you to check my closet for monsters, daddy!” It was childish, but everyone goes through it. After I hit my male pubescent years however, these
We’ve all had our paranormal incidents. We’ve all had weird things, unexplainable things, happen to us. And we remember these events – it’s not something you brush off, no matter how long ago. Now see, I’m not a genius writer, I can’t tell you a mind-blowing scary story that will
I just had one of the worst nightmares I’ve ever had. Perhaps it’s because my parents and I just moved into a new, unfamiliar town and are staying in a hotel room while we wait for our home to be finished, but I can’t get it out of my mind.
You’re happy. The sun is shining in a perfect, cloudless blue sky, the birds are singing peaceful tunes, everyone you meet is kind and gracious to you, and your friends are picking you up this evening to take you to that movie you’ve been wanting to see. But that’s not
Jonathan Felix sat back in the chair after affixing the final electrodes to his skull. He currently reclined in one of the most expensive private scientific investments in the world, and today was the fruition of his, and many others, efforts. The aim of the project was to open a
Lighting a match he let the fire lick up to his fingers, he dropped the blackened, burning match into a cup of stale coffee, relishing in the familiar sound of the extinguished flame. His burnt fingers and lips were tokens of his fate, it seemed. The fire was somehow apart
The first thing you need to remember is to never turn around. If you turn around, you’re dead. It had been a long day at the office taking calls from China, sorting through endless stacks of paper, dozing off with my elbows on my clear glass desk. . . definitely
It felt like the short time after one wakes up from a nap; it feels as if everything is not real, as if you are still not fully awake. I opened my eyes and found myself placed in this scene straight out of a thriller. I found myself standing in
Long gone are the days of wrestling with road maps, searching desperately for certain road signs, and sheepishly swallowing your pride to ask locals for directions. Today, in the modern world of technology and convenience, you rely on a GPS to get you where you need to be. You
I’m writing this down in this journal because if I don’t, I may go insane. You may think me insane after reading my story. I wish I was. My name is Jared Baldwin, and I am twenty-two years old. I recently moved into a brand new apartment in rural Maine.
A stone quarry is an awful place to be at night if you’ve got a nervous disposition, like I do. The silhouettes created by the hewn rocks look like stalking figures, and the whole place is haunted by twisted shadows. Even worse, tonight it’s raining. The heavy plinking of water
