I used to live in a small town called Fenter. It was a quiet place to grow up with one school, a doctors, a police station, a cinema (with films shown a month after the national release date), two restaurants and a host of local shops on the west side.
Related: Poisoned Oak Bassa was not unlike many of his neighbors in Glevum, a town in the Roman province of Britannia; men who were originally brought to this land by conquest, and who were now settling down to a new life as farmers. The town of Glevum had once been
Poisoned Oak — The Sacred Grove Read More »
If you’re just staring to read my experiences with this horror, you should read my other stories first. You can find them here: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Okay guys, a lot has happened since the last time I checked in. Lot of you messaged
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part Six & Link to the End Read More »
Formalities first: If you’re just joining my diary of horror, please read part one, part two, part three, and part four. I have become almost indifferent to what’s going on to me. Since my first story, so much shit happened/was discovered that I became dulled down to the point of almost not giving a
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part Five Read More »
If you haven’t read my previous posts, please read stories one, two and three. Hey guys, after many PMs asking for an update, I decided to bring you up to speed on whats going on. But first, here is the screenshot of the desktop picture that Rose/her cult put on my laptop. I haven’t been
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part Four Read More »
Anyone who hasn’t read my story should do so before looking in this thread. My first story had some updates to it too. My second story is my girlfriend’s account of the events. Hey guys, I promised pictures and updates, so here we go. I will also respond to some questions. So first’s things
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part Three Read More »
Before you read my girlfriend’s side of the story, you may want to read my first post that also contains last night’s unfortunate update. Here is the update copy/pasted: Okay guys, I realize I am a bit late with my girlfriend’s story, but when you read my latest update, you’ll see that
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part Two Read More »
Okay guys, before I begin, I gotta give you a fair warning. This story is absolutely true unfortunately. It is also very long. It goes back to my childhood, but it wasn’t as terrifying until very recently. Now I am completely lost in fear. I am an adult man, logical
The Story of Her Holding an Orange: Part One Read More »
Related: Harlequin No.7 & The Kindness of Strangers “I ask him why above he crawls, scratching apart my bedroom walls. And he looks down through white eyes peeping, And says… I’m not crawling, I’m simply creeping.” – Music & lyrics by Billie-Joe Kimble. The job of a
Your mother had been sick for years. You never did know exactly what was wrong with her though. Countless doctors had examined her and all had to admit she was suffering some something they had never seen before. However, even though they could not pinpoint the disease itself, they all
The Noisy Portrait Read More »
Silence is not quiet, its loud. It’s a deafening roar. I’ve experienced quiet before; I always start work at 4am. Quiet is the gentle hum of the street lamps. Its the first songs of the birds, the last scream as the foxes return to their warrens, the warm caress of
Back in May of 2010, my best friend, Andy, and I wanted to make a video game that we thought was going to change virtual reality gaming and the horror genre forever. We were both out of the university, me with a degree in computer programming and him with digital
The Systelien Specter Read More »
It’s raining outside. I really hate the rain in this town. That’s all it ever does, is rain. Drop. Drop. Drop. I looked over to my right at the nightstand beside my bed. The clock read 3:40am. This always seems to happen. It rains so hard outside that the droplets
Dear Survivor- If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead. It’s for the best. You see, about four or five days ago, a storm rolled in. Now, this in and of itself isn’t anything strange. The clouds and the rain though, they had a yellow tint to them. It smelled weird
Dried husks scratched their arms as they squeezed through the narrow isles of corn. Finding the entrance was a miracle as the pathways are barely discernable from the rows of planted corn. Every year, Old Man Hanky builds a corn maze for the local kids, but hides the entrance. The
Annie ran away again the other night. It took me hours to find her in the park, going back and forth on the swings without a care in the world, like she had every right to be there. And she dyed her hair again, blonde this time. I didn’t want
I was driving home from school for thanksgiving break. It was dark even though it was only 7PM. I always hated when it started to get dark so early. I always felt like I was missing out on the day when it would be dark by the time I got
Caught in the Headlights Read More »
Everything started out normal. It was just a simple nightmare, right? But the more I thought about it, the more unlikely that sounded. No nightmare could be that detailed, that gruesome. At first I thought I was alone in that dream, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. There was
I had moved into a new apartment with my girlfriend about two years ago. It was pretty small; it had only a kitchen, one bedroom, one bathroom, and a living room. All of the rooms might have been small, but the rent was good, and we didn’t really care. Neither
At my young tender age, painting was the only psychoanalysis I ever needed to retreat to, or how common people call it therapy. Every hour in the morning until the sun rises, my brush strokes back and forth. It tells a part of a story I wish to tell, but
This is based off a true story experienced by my mother. When my mother was younger, a teenager specifically, she was quite mischievous. She was a rebel, a non-conformist. She smoked, drank, and went out all hours of the night with her misfit friends. She often teases me saying she
(Based on a real life premonition.) On the eve of his parents death Alex sat down at the dining table and poured himself a glass of crystalline red wine. He swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing and grimaced at sour grape-like taste that died on his tongue. Alex
I had managed to keep a healthy scepticism of ghosts, ghouls and all things supernatural until I was 28. I found most claims of such things to be dubious at best, and harmful at worst. I was very much in the camp of the classical sciences as I had studied
Forgotten Valentine Read More »
I’ve been watching Eugene constantly for about a year now, and if I’ve learned anything in that time at all, it’s that my future plans wouldn’t be easy. Eugene was a smart, devious man. He always seemed to know what was going on, what he needed to do, and who
