Read Part One here THERE ONCE WAS A PREACHERALL SKIN AND BONESNO ONE KNEW HIS FIRST NAMEHIS LAST ONE WAS JONES This clusterfuck all started on Halloween. At an emergency Town Hall meeting, we’d all come together to discuss the obvious: we were starving. At the rate we were going, […]
The camera didn’t look like something that should still work. Didn’t feel right from the start. When my sister handed me that box on my birthday, I could tell it’d be a pile of garbage. She’d always been a cheapskate, the woman can’t walk past a yard sale without stopping.
Followers of the Flaming Hand Read More »
SILENCE IS GOLDENREMEMBER THIS RHYMESILENCE YOUR VOICEWHEN IT’S YOUR TIME At sixteen, you must decide. Our doctors say it doesn’t hurt a bit. They use a local anesthetic for the procedure, and it takes less time than filling a tooth. Your throat is sore for about a week afterward. Then
No one ever talks about the sounds. They talk about the body.They talk about the wire.They talk about the eyes.But no one talks about the sounds.Because if they did… they’d understand it wasn’t just a killing.It was a sermon. Before the cornfield…Before the crows learned his name…There was a man
The Last Sermon of Malachi Read More »
My name is Frank Delacroix, and I am seventy-four years old. I am not a violent man. I have never been a violent man. I have spent the better part of my life volunteering at soup kitchens, attending mass, and doing what I believed to be the work of a
A Meeting At The Church Read More »
As I sit here in this damp, dark cell, my only friend the warmth of the flickering candlelight illuminating this scrap of paper, I have to wonder how I got here and why I just couldn’t stop when I had the chance. Every few minutes, I find myself freezing, perfectly
Johnathan woke up in a daze to find himself all alone. The alone part was normal. The alone part wasn’t strange. What was strange was that he woke up in a graveyard. “What the fuck…” Johnathan pushed himself, sitting upwards, onto the wet earth beneath him. As he leaned back
The driver talked the entire way to the shore, seemingly unable to keep his mouth closed. He blabbered on and on about how shitty the weather was, how hard his life was and, his favorite topic, how weird I am. He said that I’m way too thin, my eyes look
“I’m going blind,” I told my wife when we moved to our new gothic-style home in Griswold on a breezy day in early April. It was a wedding gift from my estranged father —a beautiful two-story structure with pointed arches, board-and-batten siding, large stained-glass windows, and a steep-pitched roof that
The Jewett City Vampires Read More »
Have you ever seen yourself die? I have. I was just a normal mid-twenties college-graduate when that horrific nightmare occurred. It was not like any experience I had been through before, and now it is my every waking nightmare. My story begins like that of many recent college graduates, living
The large man stood in the corner of my dark room, peering at me through puffy slits surrounded by a century’s worth of deep eyebags and crust. Every breath his ancient body took was accompanied by loud wheezing, and the occasional band of elastic spittle dripped from a bulbous head,
A Man Appeared in My Room to Answer My Prayers Read More »
“I still have nightmares about my mother,” I told my friend Zack on a frigid October night in downtown Mystic. “She’s running through the Darién jungle from a man dressed head to toe in camouflage. His face is shadowy and deformed. I can’t see my mother’s face, but I can
The red, scented candles provided flickering illumination to the ritual, as the circle of hooded, red-robed figures chanted. “Sheh, igran, neregi, laba, ithel.” Cherrie had no idea what the words meant, but she chanted them along with the others. She was beginning to feel decidedly out of her depth here
Things Not Meant to Be Read More »
[To Whom it May Concern] Hello Friend,If this letter has fallen into your possession, take it as a sign that our Lord, the one trueGod, has found you to be worthy of His legacy. Repent! Become one of the Risen andexperience His glory first hand! Do not fear! I was
A Letter from the Risen Read More »
I’ve recently realized that the older you get, the fewer close friends you retain. You get so caught up with real-world stuff that you forget about the people who’ve made monumental impacts on your life. That harsh reality hit when one of my closest friends, whom I hadn’t spoken to
I Hate My Friend’s Pet Read More »
In June of 1986, I received a call to inspect the well water quality of the small town of Megiddo Hills out in rural Indiana. It was to be a short drive from my home in Indianapolis, and the company promised to pay me a slight bonus, given its great
A Stay at Megiddo Hills Read More »
In the town of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, on December 8th, 2021, Buck W. Curwen was arrested on charges of grave robbing, kidnapping, breaking and entering, destruction of property, assault, double homicide, and resisting arrest. Upon pleading guilty to all charges, he gave the following testimony to the court. The ordeal began
The Confession of Buck Curwen Read More »
People don’t die cleanly. It’s messy, miserable work. Everyone fights back, regardless of age or gender. It’s an animalistic instinct driven by the bolts of adrenaline rushing through their brain. Fight. Resist. Run. Escape LIVE. Those were the thoughts whirling behind the bearded man’s eyes as my knife slid into
“There is nothing in the thetan, past or future.” – George M. Witek, “Lucifer’s Bridge” FIRST comes the coronation. Off comes my hair. The Crown will come later. Second, the washing and shaving of my body. Third, the bleaching of my skin. This takes a long time and it hurts
Contrary to popular belief, not all cult members are crazy. I mean, they can be a bit nutty but the majority of members are just regular people, practicing their beliefs…even if those beliefs are a bit strange. They aren’t all technology hating, goat sacrificing, cloaked psychos. They’re mechanics and salesman.
I ran security for a cultist outpost Read More »
It may be hard to believe, but before I became the bloated old drunk you’d see camping outside your local liquor store, I used to be quite the stud back in my prime. I was young, athletic; had a full set of long sandy hair and a jawline so sharp
I joined a hedonistic cult in the 80’s. It’s time to pay my membership fee. Read More »
I This wall once held a chalkboard. The one behind me displayed a map of the United States with big red stars indicating state capitals. In the corner to my right, there was an old-fashioned, spinning globe – it was the type that my grandfather had in his furnished basement.
The Brothers of Drane was a Canadian-American commune, gang, and cult that was active in the northeastern regions of the United States and southern Canada, particularly New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, in the early-late 1990’s. Led by Wolfville native Warren Drane, who occasionally used the alias of “Coda”, they lived
“Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!” ― Bram Stoker, Dracula As if a mad carnival rolled into town, the leaf-strewn street of the quaint picturesque village seemed to transform overnight in ghoulish metamorphosis into a riotous necropolis with skulls grinning and witches cackling at
Smiles of Fire to the Night Read More »
