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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Part 1: The Man Called Pathos The man finished the rest of his meal, threw the wrappers and other garbage into the nearest trashcan, left the tray in the proper place, wished the crew a good rest of the night, and exited the restaurant. His name was Michael Cannon, but
My name is Harley, and I’ve been with my boyfriend Dan for five years, lived with him for three. I love Dan more than anything in this world. He’s my best friend, my partner in crime, my biggest pest, and my number one supporter. I honestly couldn’t imagine my life
My Boyfriend’s Dreams Are Starting to Scare Me Read More »
I’ve always wondered who was behind the costumes. I was unfortunate enough to find out when I took my son on his first trip to Disney world. Being a single Father isn’t easy, I work as hard as I can to provide for my child but I need to make
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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
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MISSING CAT, the poster said. It had a black-and-white picture of the cat in question, a generic-looking animal with mottled fur and a bored expression. It listed the cat’s name and description and gave a phone number to call. I silently wished the pet owners luck as I jogged by, but I didn’t slow down to examine the poster. It was a cat. It had wandered off outside, as cats do. For their sake, I hoped it found its way home again, but I certainly wasn’t about to go looking for it.
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As Ms. Davis stepped into her new classroom, not a single student paid her any attention. She set her purse down on the desk in front and looked around. All the high school students were either on their cell phones or talking to one another. Not even one had so
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The following happened to me seven years ago while I was a sophomore in college, and it was my first experience with any drug other than weed (great choice, right?). There are many things in this report that are downright stupid and reckless, ranging from lack of research to reckless
It was beautiful, really. Pale yellow walls, bright orange shutters, and a big white door. I liked it. I called it the Creamsicle House. Even on those hot summer days, it never melted. It never dripped or drizzled, runny and sticky over your hand. It just sat there in the
I’ve got calluses on my hands from burying my brother. If we’re rescued today, I’ll have to explain that to someone. Some search-and-rescue trooper, some forest ranger, will hold my palm to the light of a chopper window and want to know how I managed to rub the heel of my hand raw. I practice, sometimes. I practice what I’ll say to people when we get back home. Dr. Harmon, the department head, will need to know how I got Geoff and Lillian killed doing what was supposed to be straightforward field research. They were both his students, hand-picked for great things, led astray by the man who wrote his dissertation on the Russian Yeti, who taught a cryptozoology class disguised as a folklore survey. I got bumped off the tenure track for that. Harmon talked over me in meetings. Like I wasn’t there.
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The man on the trail is dead and will need to be moved. It is a more difficult task than I would have guessed, and nearly impossible for a 5’ 4” woman with no help and no gurney. I tried to drag him toward camp right after I found him this morning, but only succeeded in pivoting him and twisting his legs around each other horribly. Bodies look so wrong once they stop feeling pain. I never thought I would have so much experience with death, but I haven’t cried over the loss of someone since the lighthouse. This man shit his pants before he died, and moving him made the smell worse. It will bring the animals in. Still no sign of Ira or Bill.
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The west side bank has three exits, thirty windows and nineteen air vents. And when I arrived at the scene, there were thirteen people being held captive by a man with a vendetta. “How bad are things?” I asked the officer in charge. So far no one had been hurt.
Something Happened During a Hostage Negotiation I Can’t Explain Read More »
The dog ran away today. It’s an easy lie, a simple one. Believable. No one questions it. Everyone knows how dogs are. There’s some work to follow through on it, of course. Walking around the neighborhood yelling, whistling. Putting up posters. Fielding calls from people who claim to have seen the dog. Which they haven’t, obviously, but I have to play along for the kids. It’s sad to watch the hope flare and fade in their faces, but what’s the alternative? The truth wouldn’t make them any happier.
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The story I am about to tell you is rather confidential. Amongst the Mire, we are known as Regiment 9. Throughout Regiment 9, we are known as the ‘BlackGuards’, But in the small circle of men and women who actually make up the organization, we call ourselves ‘the exterminators’. Led by the infamous Commander, Cyrus Fiendel, we were essentially tasked with getting rid of all the pests that Emperor Dravis didn’t want to deal with.
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There is a banana lady in every town. You might have to look for her, but I would advise against this. She is not someone you would like to meet. You may find her on a less popular side street in your neighborhood. She is always facing the opposite direction
I first wore the AirPods to the Stop and Shop. It was an incredible, other-worldly experience. I listened to the soothing voice of Neil deGrasse Tyson while picking through the broccoli. I learned about quasars while waiting in line for the deli. Things got weird, though, when I got to
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It started as a joke. My wife and I host a lot of parties, and if you’ve ever done cleanup after a party, you know that people leave things behind. Hats and coats constantly, scarves, purses, whatever. One time I found a pair of prescription glasses stuck in between the couch cushions. They were thick lenses, too, like Velma-thick. I don’t know how the owner made it out of the front door without them, let alone how they drove home.
The last thing I remember hearing once I ran out of the school building were the excited shouts and screams of every student around me, trying to start their summer break right away. Many people tried to push and shove their way through the exit doors, swarming out like flies,
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It was a clear night in a small community near San Francisco, California when a mysterious blue light was seen by several residents as it fell from the sky. The next morning, a none-too-bright man in his early twenties went to check out the field where the strange blue object
I inherited Chandler’s Candles from my pa, who had inherited it from his grandma, who inherited it (I guess) from her ma or pa. It’s a dying art, honestly, and I will be the first to admit that. Artisan candles can be costly, and most potential patrons would much rather
The storm door clacked against its frame without rhythm. Chickens scuttered through the dirt, clucking restlessly. The clouds had sunk low over the farmhouse. They smothered the earth, draining the red shutters and dirty white house of their color. “Mama, there’s no time!“ Verna was walking Pa down the porch
I used to work the late shift at an old-fashioned cafe in my hometown. I lived in a relatively small town where everyone knows everyone and everything about everybody. Honestly, I really liked my job as a barista. I found pleasure in the constant smell of coffee, and in the
I still dream about the ocean, waves capped with foam, the whispered poetry of high tide, pools filled with brine-crusted treasures. I dream about storms and faces. A roar of thunder wakes me to a cold sweat and an empty room, and I try to fall back asleep. I try
The Backrooms is a relatively recent example of internet folklore that is still expanding its scope and mythology. Essentially, the backrooms posit the existence of a ‘place’ that people can slip (or ‘noclip’) into and become lost or trapped. An unreality behind or parallel to this reality, The Backrooms are
