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Psychological Horror

It lives between the lines

Two officers sat across from me in my living room. Their uniforms were sharp, their presence overwhelming. The older one, gray at the temples, opened a slim notebook, pen ready. His partner, younger and watchful, stood near the mantel, scanning the room like he could read me through the clutter […]

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Spiders Congregate in the Dark

Spiders Congregate in the Dark

Sometimes your bones break and your little sister disappears, and always your father acts like nothing is wrong. Occasionally, he’ll sit you down and tell you that you have to move on. Your sister isn’t coming back. That she’s probably dead. I didn’t think so. I couldn’t think so. We

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A nightmare of cockroaches

A Nightmare of Cockroaches

I hate bugs. I hate all kinds of insects, such as flies, bees, even mosquitoes; but the one insect that I hate most of all is the common cockroach. To me, a cockroach is the scariest and most disgusting insect of them all. Ever since I was a kid, and

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The terrible noise between us

The terrible noise between us

It was a Monday like any other. At least, it should have been. But I woke up in the early hours of the morning to a grotesque, jarring cacophony of noise that tore through the stillness like a scalpel to flesh.At first, I couldn’t place it. It sounded like dozens

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Captain Jack

Captain Jack

The following are journal excerpts taken from four in-resident counselors working a summer camp in coastal Georgia (c.2012). All entries are transcribed wholly and completely unfiltered. * James – 7/1/2012 This is a log of repeated occurrences from Tortoise Cabin (location—across the estuary from counselor quarters). Desc. For many, many

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Her horrific inheritance

Her Horrific Inheritance

The envelope was thick, cream-colored, and addressed to me in elegant, unfamiliar script. It arrived on a day like any other – a Tuesday, rain slicking the windows of our tiny apartment, the air inside smelling faintly of stale cooking and damp laundry. Lily was colouring at the chipped Formica

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Pastel Horrors

Pastel Horrors

The Easter basket arrived this morning, though I live alone and ordered nothing. Inside, nestled amongst the garish plastic grass, wasn’t chocolate, but a single, impossibly large, milky-white eye staring up at me. It wasn’t glass; it felt disturbingly organic beneath my hesitant fingertip, cool and slightly yielding, veined with

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Beneath the mall

Beneath the Mall

If you’re reading this, you’re probably pretty confused. I know I was. I’ll explain everything, but I’m going to start at the beginning. That’s the only way that this will make sense, and maybe the only way you’ll believe me. It all started with that damn job. Mall security. Just

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Project deep red

Project Deep Red

I don’t have much time. It may be monitoring everything.My name is Dr. Clara Culpa, but I was part of a black-budget military operation called Project Deep Red. It was supposed to be a revolutionary training program: a full neural-immersion system to push soldiers past their psychological limits using simulated

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Most likely to

Most Likely To…

You’ve heard of the Mandela Effect, right? It’s that weird phenomenon where a bunch of people collectively misremember something. Like how some people swear up and down that the Monopoly Man used to have a monocle. (He didn’t.) Or how others vividly recall Ed McMahon handing out big checks for

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It screams when it doesn't whisper

It screams when it doesn’t whisper

My family has an odd history of tragedy—at least, that’s what my grandma would always say.“It comes in waves; it comes when it wants to,” she would ominously say, but we all knew she was superstitious and generally odd. According to my mom, who has a much-strained relationship with her,

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If you ever stop in Ashbrook dont ask about the children

If You Ever Stop in Ashbrook, Don’t Ask About the Children

The Nevada heat rippled off the asphalt, distorting the long, empty road ahead. I wiped sweat from my brow and adjusted the camera strap around my neck, squinting at the horizon. No sign of the fox. No sign of anything, really. I should’ve been writing a real story—something that actually

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I went undercover to a body farm

I Went Undercover to a Body Farm

Every flashlight in Moreau Bay scoured the forest for my missing wife, Jemma. All except his. His light pointed to the open water and lit a path to his strange little island about a kilometer from the coast. Two weeks passed with no signs of her and all I thought

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The Fyrn

The Fyrn

The Advertisement“Lookout wanted. For more information, call 1-800-200-2230” My eyes scanned the sentence thoroughly. The ad intrigued me, I never was one meant for city life. However, for the past four years that’s exactly what my life had been. Just another cog in the machine, wasting away at a desk

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The man in the attic

The Man in the Attic

Mike and his mother Sarah lived in a sharply white two-story house about eight miles from the city and half a mile away from a red diner which worked throughout the week and the weekend. The house was adjacent to naught else but the road and the forest. Mike was

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The bright yellow terror

The bright yellow terror

”They are down there in the water. I saw several glimpses of bright yellow popping up from and then retreating down below the surface, only to pop up again in a rhythmic fashion. Like a dance routine. Brightly yellow and deadly. Are they mocking us? The rotting, sweet stench of

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