Beware the Waters, says the sign that blocks the dirt road. The road, winding down to a lake, overgrown and under-kept, lay abandoned for many years. Hollowed lake houses stand withered, their owners vanishing from reality. Nobody can say the exact reason why, but everybody knows to steer clear of […]
No service? You’ve got to be kidding me! My older brother, James, is in LA with the house to himself. He’s probably in the Jacuzzi surrounded by hot girls right now. Meanwhile, I’m in some European backwater that has been decaying since the fall of the U.S.S.R. I looked over
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I had woken up after a very long time. It almost felt like an eternity. I opened my eyes and there it was, the night, my lost love. I was so happy, so excited to see the night that I didn’t even move for a full minute after waking up.
The Letter to My Other Self Read More »
It’s been six months since they came back… …and things wouldn’t have been that bad if it weren’t for all those idiots out there. The first one appeared somewhere in the Caribbean, around near Haiti. It was a Facebook video someone posted, and it melted the internet instantly. There were
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Read Part one here Read Part two here Read Part three here For at least a good ten minutes or so, I just laid there as the terrified adrenaline began to wear off, leaving both my body and mind just completely drained. As my heart rate slowly returned to normal,
A Survivor’s Accounts of the Depraved Funhouse: The Balloon (Part Four) Read More »
The one thing I know, perhaps the last thing I know to be true, is that there is a very fine mist between one dimension and the next. And crossing that mist is never good. Because even a shift in the smallest detail offers magnitudes of misfortune. – “Because hard
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Read Part one here Read Part two here As I began to reach for the door, hands shaking uncontrollably; I closed my eyes and began muttering out loud “There’s nothing to be afraid of…” over and over like it was a mantra. My eyes shot open immediately upon grabbing the
A Survivor’s Accounts of the Depraved Funhouse: The Balloon (Part Three) Read More »
“What a frickin’ mess this is.” Detective Mike Barrow stood atop a muddy ridge on a humid Monday morning, looking down at a small crew of police personnel in a heavily wooded ravine. In the middle of the action was a dead body that had apparently washed up onto the
Read part 1 here I was a bit unnerved when I saw that it resembled a lot of the poster that advertised it; a gigantic pasty white face with large red lips stretched from ear to ear, a red painted nose, as well as fuzzy orange hair and two enlarged,
A Survivor’s Accounts of the Depraved Funhouse: The Balloon (Part Two) Read More »
Read Part one here It was gearing up to be a long night. The place was packed two-deep with thirsty patrons, and our barback was nowhere in sight. I wouldn’t know it until hours later, but he had quit out of the blue, leaving me to manage the tides myself.
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Let me begin this by saying that I share my story with you all purely by order of my psychiatrists. They labor under this delusion that reaching out to others about everything that happened to me might provide me with some form of catharsis. Personally, I’m more inclined to believe
A Survivor’s Accounts of the Depraved Funhouse: The Balloon [Part One] Read More »
I had first heard about the Heavy Man during an unpleasant encounter with a deranged lunatic. Of all nights to visit Sal’s pub, I happened to go while HE was there. That madman probably would have painted a clearer picture of what was to come, had I actually taken him
My brother shut the door of our apartment with a long, exaggerated sigh. He walked right to the fridge to grab two tall Bud Lights from the fridge: one for him and one for me. “Tough day at work?” I said. “Same as every day.” He drank half of his
Tom and I were both neurology students in our senior year. I think it all started when his mother died a few months ago – a drunk driver crashed into her car. I am minoring in theology but my friend was an atheist, which is why her death hit him
My friend did something terrible to prove a philosophical point Read More »
Have you ever heard Plato’s allegory of the cave? Well, I’m no philosopher, but I’ll try my best to explain it. Essentially you have a group of people who’ve spent their entire lives chained up inside a cave, all facing a blank wall. The prisoners watch shadows projected on the
I sought out a horrifying truth. Now I wish I hadn’t Read More »
Billy slowly facilitated his way in, careful to avoid cutting himself on the broken window. He had gained entry to places similarly and tried his best to clear the shards from the frame using his thick jacket. It was difficult to wipe it all away clean. That was the thing
Part 1: Tales From Lake Bottomless: Levi The Leviathan Howard Greene back again, last time I was on here I promised I’d share my experience of traveling to the west side of the lake with Levi The Leviathan, so here it is… I ended up taking a trip to the
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September 3rd, 1692 Northridge village stood as it always had, apart from most of the civilized world. It was a simple self contained community consisting mostly of farmers and the simple village folk. On this late afternoon bathed with the orange light of the setting sun the village looked like
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To begin, I do not condone any actions that I myself do not directly commit while working here at The Agency. My peers, superiors, and comrades are responsible for what they do. Not that I still don’t feel bad. There is plenty of collateral damage that comes with this job.
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Twisted neck, mouth half-open, eyes rolled back too far. The body was draped over its bicycle that was twirled and turned in ways that undoubtedly would affect its further functioning. It was an impressive image – not a spat of blood that spilled from out of its skull onto the
For just over fifteen years, Birkingshire, England; in it’s bright and wondrous splendor, was the breeding ground for joy and cheer. Every year, the denizens of the city gathered around the center of the square to share the tales of the otherworldly. Tales of goblins and elves; of wizards and
Being the only person that lives near a cursed, murky, swamp-like lake sounds quite creepy, stupid, and moronic, I won’t lie to you, it kinda is. Most of the time anyway, but I’ve come to realize that not everything here is all bad, a lot of it in fact is
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The sands of time are known for their love of stealing away the little things; they sift away memories of childhood best friends and the password to your old computer as they flow steadily towards the bottom of the hourglass of a human life. Soon such small things are buried
Twice in my life I’ve wished for a magic wand. The first was eight years into my marriage, when our heart-wrenchingly tender obstetrician told us there was nothing left to try. I never shared my husband’s fascination with magic and conjuring tricks, but at that moment, hearing that news, I
