The house appeared in her search results on a Tuesday morning, nestled between listings that were either too small or too far from town, and Abby had stopped scrolling. She looked at the pictures for a long time. A craftsman-style two-story in Ridgefield, Washington. Good bones, the listing said, and […]
A Door To The Basement Read More »
March 2nd, 2026 I don’t really know why I’m writing this down. Maybe because it felt too real to just forget about, and I’ve been sitting at my desk for the past hour trying to convince myself it was just a dream. Of course it was just a dream. I’m
A Hole In The Concrete Read More »
I don’t know what I saw in that damn chapel. I don’t even know if it was real or not. I sure as hell hope not. So, I came here to tell my story. Maybe someone could help me. Maybe just telling it will make me feel better – help
The photograph looked ordinary at first. On a quiet Saturday morning, the small neighborhood yard sale did not look very exciting. A few folding tables stood on the sidewalk in front of a modest brick house. Cardboard boxes sat under the tables. Old blankets were spread across the grass with
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Recently my family was contacted by a storage unit company. They said my dad was listed as the secondary contact for a unit under my uncle’s name. Which was strange, as my uncle had been a missing person for nearly 14 years now. Which apparently the company didn’t know, explaining
My Uncle was Obsessed with Holes Read More »
I just couldn’t do it anymore. After thirteen long years on this road, it was time for a change. I’ve been all over the country. I’ve seen the flat lands of tornado alley, from Wichita Kansas to Canadian Texas, where the windmills turn like silent sentinels, and the milky way
A degree in wildlife management. It sounds so exciting, and the $70,000 piece of paper has certainly ensnared many bright, nature-loving youths with the allure of grand vistas and endless adventures, and I am one who heard the sirens call. From a young age, I knew people weren’t for me.
The Thing behind me wants me to turn around Read More »
It was a rainy Saturday morning, and I could hear the rain tapping against my window. I looked up from my laptop and let out a soft sigh. The sound was somewhat annoying, yet also oddly soothing, and I thought it might help me focus on the history essay I
The night smells wrong. Not merely damp, not merely cold—spoiled, as though the air itself has been left too long inside something dead and forgotten. Each breath coats your tongue with the taste of old coins dissolved in rot, metallic and sour, thick enough to cling. The fog doesn’t drift;
I learned very early that people are softer than they pretend. Not emotionally—physically. Socially. A human being is a structure held together by habits and assumptions, and habits collapse under pressure. Mine just happened to be… efficient. Skin-to-skin contact. That’s all it ever took. A handshake held a second too
I didn’t choose the dead minute. It chose me.The first time it happened, I was twelve, hiding in my bedroom while my parents screamed downstairs. Plates shattered. Something heavy hit the wall hard enough to shake dust from the ceiling. I remember staring at the clock, begging time to move
The month I had to spend every summer at a children’s camp was the most loathed period of the year for me. A place where children were supposed to rest, laugh, and socialize with their peers was, for me and the other wards of Clover Camp, hard labor. A tour
About one shift at Clover Camp Read More »
I felt it that day, something in the air wasn’t right. The morning heat was setting in, and the bugs were eating us alive. The men were tense as the sun rose on another godforsaken day. We had been up on nightwatch and hadn’t had a moment of proper rest
Things Best Left Buried Read More »
On March 1st, 1992, a co‑worker at a health insurance office in Sydney brought something into work that none of us had ever seen before. He came in early, before most of the staff arrived, and sat down in the break room with his personal photo book in his hands.
People have always said that I was good. Not nice, not kind, just good. Like it was just something they told me even before I could talk. People trusted me way too fast. It doesn’t even make sense how fast it happens. They look at me and something just clicks
People Say I’m Good Read More »
We moved into the flat above the butcher’s two months ago. It was a step down from our old place; John lost his good job and we had to make adjustments. The place wasn’t exactly the Ritz, but it functioned. The wallpaper popped and flaked when you scraped a nail
The Floor is Sticky Read More »
I was born on a small cabbage farm just outside of Racine, Wisconsin on April 14, 1900. The lone son of two God-fearing German immigrants, I was raised on hard work, religious reverence, and teetotalism.My parents first moved to the United States in August of 1898 with the hopes of
Jason watched the hands of the clock ticking. The hour hand was moving to nine o’clock. The hour he dreaded so much. His eyes darted around the room. In the corner his blue lava lamp cast fleeting shadows that resembled dogs, silhouettes and long-fingered hands, prancing and clawing up and
The Eyes of the Angel Read More »
The first time I dreamed of Rose, I didn’t think it mattered. I’m not the kind of person who reads into dreams. I’m practical, tired, the sort of man who forgets to eat and forgets to water plants until they die quietly. I don’t believe in signs. I believe in
It was October 1st of 1967, and the campus of Montauk University sat quiet and still in the new morning hours. The sky was dark, street lamps bright, and all students living on campus were asleep. Except, of course, for two figures who sauntered down the sidewalk towards the campus
Year after year, after year. Resolutions are made and broken in moments. “I’ll start tomorrow.” “I have plenty of time to finish.”“Oh well, I’ve already failed. Might as well try again next year.” It’s the same every single time. People make their resolutions or their “goals” for the New Year.
Breaking Resolutions Read More »
Most people think of the dark when they imagine where monsters hide. They fear the shadows, the closets, the space beneath the bed where the sun doesn’t reach. They are wrong. The worst things don’t hide in the dark. They hide in the light. Specifically, they hide in the refraction.
DO YOU KNOW what nitrogen hypoxia is? It’s how I’ve chosen to die. Our state is the sixth to adopt this method, behind Alabama, Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Oklahoma. Some human rights advocates and medical experts consider it cruel and unusual punishment tantamount to torture. However, haven’t they said as
I Lead a Death Cult Read More »
I still remember the night it happened. I was nine. We were driving home from my grandma’s house late, rain pounding the windshield so hard the wipers couldn’t keep up. Dad was humming along to the radio, Mom was half-asleep in the passenger seat. Then the truck came out of
