When James and Linda Scott welcomed the arrival of their first daughter Ella Marie. Nothing seemed to be better. The pregnancy was a text book scenario. Nine months of classes, preparing a room and eagerness for her to arrive all seemed to go swimmingly. Linda was wonderful and the birth […]
I wouldn’t say it was instantaneous, I was always more open to the depraved thoughts the brain forces you to think about when you’re alone. The kind of thoughts that creep into your conscience out of nowhere, as if some sick fuck had planted them there with a wide grin
He was a striking gentleman. I mean the stereotypical southern “yes sir, no sir,” “mother may I,” gentlemen. The first time I met him I saw this stranger from a distance attempting to move a heavy looking recliner into the condo next to mine. My wife and I haven’t had
The Custom of the Alabama Watermelon Man Read More »
Roger Hemlock scowled at the bustling of servants going about their chores in preparation for the wedding to be held later in the day. In his mind, the mere thought of what he considered peasants inside his manor home and partaking of his bounty soured his stomach and mood. All
The Haunted Cat House of Gilmore County Read More »
Part one. A melancholy recollection of traumatic events. I hate bullies. Bullies have set the course of my fairly chaotic life, since day one. My father was a bully. My Mother wasn’t much better, if I’m being honest. My parents were very religious, and I don’t mean just go to
I stare at the corpse in the mirror. How desperately the dry, clay-colored skin clings to its skull. Rubbery. How narrow its tired eyes are, weighed down by the dark satchels hanging from them. How many broken vessels I could count beneath its sullen cheeks. A nebula of spider veins.
“Can I tell you a story Boss?” The kindly old man that I knew as Harvey Abberline had asked me in a distant and almost wistful tone in that distinct foreign accent of his that I guessed was from somewhere in the United Kingdom on the very last day he
The Monster of Nobel Coffee and Tea Read More »
I am a retired Private Investigator turned Real Crime Blogger. I have been receiving anonymous manuscripts in the mail detailing heinous acts of appalling psychopathy. For reasons concerning my work and this situation, I don’t want to give you my true identity. You can refer to me as Mr. S.
Journal of a Psychopath: University Read More »
I am a retired Private Investigator turned Real Crime Blogger. I have been receiving anonymous manuscripts in the mail detailing heinous acts of appalling psychopathy. For reasons concerning my work and this situation, I don’t want to give you my true identity. You can refer to me as Mr S.
Journal of a Psychopath: High School Read More »
Dylan had everything. He had a family that loved him, a beautiful girlfriend, and outstanding grades in school. He was a good kid, well liked by his teachers and classmates. There was one boy who hated Dylan, though. His name was Ike. No one knows why he loathed Dylan with
“My Name Is Dylan” Read More »
I was almost friends with a monster when I was eleven years old. I would have preferred a human friend, but my family had just moved to a new city where everyone was cold and distant. My father promised that I would meet new people at school, but
The top half of Councilman Jones’ body hung by a steel cable looped around his neck and tied off to an old oak tree on one end. It was still dripping blood, bones and veins and torn bits of intestines dangling down where the legs should start. The cable was stretched through the air, over to an ash tree ten yards away from where the other half of the body was hanging by the legs.
I Made a Monster Out of Clay Read More »
Writing never had been of any interest to Patric. Throughout his life, it was his older brother, Sean, who had been the creative and artistic one, while Patric quietly had assumed the role of the unknown introvert. But for years now thoughts and ideas had been filling Patric’s head in
I started working as a morgue attendant the same September that most of my friends entered college. I’d applied to a few public schools, but I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and the thought of sitting in a classroom made my knees bounce with
My first love was Misty from Pokémon. Those legs, that sass, she was absolutely perfect. No one else could ever compare. When I played the games, I’d hang around her gym and pretend that we were on a date. I built my team to be strong against her weaknesses so I could always protect her. I used to fantasize that she’d become intrigued by me when I had beaten her. That she’d become obsessed and fallen head over heels in love with me. It was just a silly fantasy, but I enjoyed it when I was younger.
The night of Christmas Eve 2008 is a blur, depending on how much medication I am given that day. I can avoid the nurses for a couple of hours, but not too long. I suppose you’ve heard about me in the papers or on your favorite serial killer show. No,
It was the Christmas season. It had just gotten dark, as I was finally able to leave the office that night after working overtime. The streets were damp from the heavy rain; it had been an unusually warm winter. I stopped downtown for some Christmas shopping for the kids, just
Thank you for coming, doctor. I honestly didn’t think the renowned psychoanalyst, Jeffrey Gilland, would see me. Then again, it isn’t every day you are handed the opportunity to interview an insane colleague. And I am your golden ticket to a more profound reputation, aren’t I? Please, you don’t need
The bell above the door rang noisily as I entered the bookshop. My hopes of just browsing through the books without attracting the attention of a well-intentioned but usually annoying clerk were immediately dashed. I hate to be bothered while perusing the shelves. But upon closing the door and getting
I. The snow had stopped about an hour ago, but god damn, it was still a treacherous road. Mark turned up the radio, half to keep himself awake, and half to try to hear the music through the interfering static. The mountains weren’t good for the signal, and even though
The drifter had been walking all day and he was on the lookout for a place to bed down for the night. That is easier said than done due to the fact that he likes to travel strictly by the back roads, for reasons only he really knows. He was
[Recording begins] “The date is November 1st, 2018. This is–” [coughs] “This is Detective Ray Sherman, excuse me. Badge number 13557, of the Internal Affairs Investigation Unit, number 334. We are investigating the night of October 31st, 2018, Case AF6H765, where Officer Pete Mendoza was found alone with five surrounding
I hate scarecrows. I have ever since I was little. I found something about the dolls stuffed with straw unsettling. I remember my parents tried to help me get over this fear by telling me things like, “They’re not scary, they only want to be friends” or some other lame
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Peter Pan is not what most people think he is… or I guess I should say, would be, but honestly, he’s real. I have not only seen him, but have also… felt him. I met Peter Pan when I was about 11 years old. It had been a hard day
The Truth About Peter Pan Read More »
