This is part five in the By the Fire’s Light series. Mira Grolinsky sat at her desk in the hotel room sorting through stacks of paper. A biographer by trade, she was used to gathering large amounts of information and then synthesizing it into one coherent package. What she was
It was nearing midnight, and the air was rapidly cooling. It was silent but for the few cars passing by, and the wind rustling trees. I looked around outside once more before shutting the front door and bolting it. I turned off the hall light and made my way upstairs.
I guess you could say I’m writing this as a cautionary tale to those who plan on studying abroad in future. I don’t mean to discourage you from going in the first place, it’s more like I just want you to be aware of this so that something like this doesn’t happen to you too.
When I was a kid, my family and I lived in a modest house in West Virginia. As I said, it was quite small and there was a large forest behind my house. I was pretty curious, as any small child is and so I’d always find myself asking to
We all have our own little fears: spiders, dark corridors, porcelain dolls. Some people have some very strange and obscure fears like things not being organized. Some people are afraid of not being perfect or being alone. But we have to be choosy about the things we decide to fear.
What Are You Really Afraid Of? Read More »
Another chirp drifted into the room from outside. The window was open again. It hadn’t been ten minutes since Jacob had slammed it closed. He stared at it, into the front yard beyond where the grass had become an ugly orange-brown, and thought of how exposed he was. Anything could
“Do you hear it? The Creep upon my cellar stairs? I lie awake tonight with fright in my heart and a creep upon my cellar stairs,” the young girl muttered into the belly of her teddy bear. A fearful groan erupted as she heard it once again, “Do you hear
This is the fourth entry in the By the Fire’s Light series. “So,” Jared said, a sneer on his face. “I suppose you’ve come to find out why I did it.” Connor looked into Jared’s face, at the sneer, the hate. He looked into Jared’s eyes, and saw, just for
The Curling Flames Read More »
Soft sunlight glints off rides and merry go rounds, merry jingles floating through the air. The bustle of the carnival goes on around you as you stroll along, enjoying the day. It’s breezy, yet the breeze is warm and butter-soft, gently wrapping your soft silk dress around your legs as
When I was younger I used to work as a night auditor for a very popular hotel chain in New Orleans. This particular hotel was once an old warehouse in the Central Business District. It had a long history that dated back to the Underground Railroad where tunnels built throughout
The Old Warehouse Hotel Down In New Orleans Read More »
The tipper tapper of a finger echoes through the small dark room. Sometimes even whispers bounce off the walls from other rooms, whispers that do not make sense to me. I would hear things like, “Stop it, he’ll see us” and “Quickly, don’t trust him” or just the moans of
Introduction I had always questioned whether or not I truly believed in the paranormal, and sometimes I wished that I would have stayed strictly to my stubborn attitude. However, that was not the case a month ago. The event that I want to inform people about has shook my grounded
Lately I have been questioning the reality of things around me. I can sure identify where it started, and where it came from, but I just can’t get it out. An idea cannot be killed; you may try to not think about it or distract yourself, but it is there,
I write this as an apology to those who are affected by my mistakes. I hope that you can find it in your hearts to forgive me, though I will understand if you can’t. My wife was terminally ill and, a few month ago, she died. I was very sad
I have to get out. The walls, twisted rebar and cracked concrete, seemed to stretch on forever. I can’t remember where I am, why I came to be here; I can’t even remember my last name. All I know is that if I get out, I will live. If I
The Neurocranial Exploits (a short story by Dniwara Redman) Crack one, crack two. There is now a visible tear in the flesh. The once wavy brown hair of Professor Emery is now tainted crimson with the blood from the open wound on his scalp. The smell of his apple-scented shampoo
The Neurocranial Exploits Read More »
The night was dark. The only light emitted into the tiny bedroom was from the door that stood slightly ajar. The room was clean for a four year old little boy. There weren’t any toys covering the floor and no clothes thrown about the room. The little boy slept soundly;
William Grant is wandering through the avenues of Florence, Italy with his beautiful girlfriend named Isabella. They giggle to each other softly and secretly, passing under the ancient arches and crumbling cathedrals of the narrow and romantic street. They exchange passionate kisses and sly glances, and all passersby who see
I’m pretty bad about changing light bulbs. If there’s any possible way I can put it off, I will. There’s probably some psychoanalytical explanation for it, dating back to when I was a little girl and I grabbed one while it was still hot, but past roommates have always chalked
It was a warm summer night. There was a refreshing breeze entering through my bedroom window, blowing away the still humidity and warmth that stuck to my body like a wet blanket. Despite the cooling breeze, it was far too hot to sleep properly. It was 2:13 AM, I stared
How The Girl Almost Stole My Voices Read More »
I hadn’t done anything different that day. It started off very normal, in fact; I awoke to the blaring alarm clock. I brushed my teeth. I fixed a breakfast, and ate it. I kissed my mum goodbye and I dashed out the front door, swinging my backpack with me. I
I think it was several weeks ago when it started. The electronics in my house started flickering on and off. At first, it was just a minor annoyance. I’d be on the internet, and my computer would shut down. Or I’d be cooking something in the oven, and it’d turn
I sat quietly, sipping my glass of wine and wishing desperately that the evening would come to an end. Two of my friends, Brad and Laurie, had been invited to a get together with another friend of ours. He lived across the river in St. Louis and we hardly got
The Man in the Road Read More »
“Cole Ryder. Age 23. Death by multiple lacerations to chest, reaching as deep as his lungs. Poor bastard looks like someone cut him open multiple times with a damned sword. No visible signs of struggle, indicating that he was either drugged before hand, or was hit unexpected.” the coroner recorded,
The Autopsy of Cole Ryder Read More »
