It was about a year ago, in June of 1928, that I entered the New England convalescent’s home where I sit writing this missive. I do not wish to record its exact location, for if this manuscript somehow reaches the outside world I do not want unsavory and foolish callers […]
The Missive of Jeriah Dowd Read More »
A few months ago I was busy preparing to move to a new house when I came across something from my past. I was going through my belongings, trying to figure out what to keep and what to discard, when I found an old shoebox stuffed down the back of
Metroid 2: Secret Worlds Read More »
For as long as I can remember, strange things have happened to me. When I was young, my mother and I lived in my grandmother’s house; a big, drafty Victorian beast of a thing squatting in the middle of acres and acres of hilly country land. My grandmother was old
When I was young, I had a dream. The dream itself was not an uncommon one among those who shared my age, of those on the brink of adulthood. In fact, I would say that it’s a very common ambition for anyone with the capability to imagine and to wonder.
And the pig, because it parts the hoof and is cloven-footed but does not chew the cud, is unclean to you. You shall not eat any of their flesh, and you shall not touch their carcasses; they are unclean to you – Leviticus 11: 7-8 * * * * *
Blood of the Swine Read More »
Entity 303 (nicknamed “303”) is a creepypasta commonly said to be “the New Herobrine”. According to the pasta, a former Mojang employee was fired by Notch (the creator of Minecraft). Now he wants revenge on Mojang and Minecraft players alike. Entity 303 is said to be not just the former
A yawn escaped my mouth as my truck came to a stop. “Finally…”I mumbled to myself. I had been traveling on the road for the past two hours. I realize that two hours of driving might not sound too bad, but I have always hated driving. Whenever I’m behind the
The Terror of Flintwood Read More »
27/6/2009 Since quite early childhood, I’ve always maintained a fascination with Area 51. Now, I ought to make it clear that I am not some sort of deluded conspiracy lunatic, although the wild speculations about its activities have equally enthralled me since being very young, and fuelled several of my
Margaret Owen stared out into the distance from her quiet Vermont ranch, taking a break from attending to the oddly large quantity of dishes left in the sink. She never quite considered how the sink managed to be full by every evening, considering her husband works most nights out in
Till the Boys Come Home Read More »
Part I – It Begins My name is Abby. My sister Amber and I are identical twins, and spend most of our time together. Outwardly we look the same: same shoulder-length brown hair, same large brown eyes, same pale skin, same thin 5′ 8″ builds. Inside, though, we’re a bit
Everyone knows that kid in school, the one who spends half the school year at home because their immune system can’t handle the massive amount of germs and viruses that tend to accumulate in an elementary school. I was that kid. I found myself getting sick every other week. Something
Scotland is one of those places that seems to never really be simple, or summed up neatly into a couple of words. Sure, you can try, the tourists certainly do: tartan, booze and heavy accents; but I’ve lived here all my life, never worn tartan nor drunk (although I suppose
Forgive the length of this message, this is the first and possibly the last time I’ll have access to a computer so I thought I’d better write this all down while I can and get it to those who should know. I’m leaving town; I don’t know where I’m
Part 1 At some point, everyone asks themselves how different their life would be if they had been given a second chance. It could come in any form you like. You could have been one number off of winning the lottery. Maybe you’re one of those people who wondered what
I remember the first time I witnessed that gruesome sight, right in front of me. It had been all over the news for the past week but until that moment, I was still unable to take any of the stories seriously. I guess that’s what happens in a world where
The cold was the first thing I felt. Even before my eyes were open I felt a very deep chill in my core, a thousand spindles of ice sewn between my tissues. I blinked, my eyelids slowly bringing and stealing back the darkness, and with it the desire to keep
I Am the Apocalypse Read More »
Luke stepped out of the warm comfort of his best friend’s house into the cold winter air. The sun was quickly slipping beneath the horizon and the trees of the forest cast long twisted shadows across the yard. Luke said goodbye to his friend and thanked his mother for having
Alone, he stands in the middle of the room, surrounded by dark walls with nothing but a dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling right above him. A man, with light brown skin and black hair that messily reach his shoulders, blankly stares at the light. His beard, full and
Janie awoke with a start, jerking out of her nightmare back into reality. She looked about her room reassuring herself with its familiarity. The feel of the cotton sheets that she had washed till they were as soft as silk, the scratchy blanket her grandmother had given her for her
If you want to understand why I left the place I was at, you’re really just going to have to hear the entire story. You won’t believe it, of course. But your skepticism means nothing. Because what I saw that night on the bayou has been with me ever since.
Bedtime is supposed to be a happy event for a tired child; for me it was terrifying. While some children might complain about being put to bed before they have finished watching a film or playing their favourite video game, when I was a child, night time was something to truly fear. Somewhere in the back of my mind it still is.
I never wanted to reveal my story, but it has to be done. It’s been so long, and nobody’s known. But now I confide in you, the reader, to read my story, and attempt to comprehend the horrors I experienced. My fingers stutter and shake and tears cascade down my
Will You Play With Me? Read More »
Seven feet tall. Skin gray and pallid. Eyes of pure black. Breath fetid and rotting. The smell of decay upon its lips. Wings, paper-thin and laced with veins. Blood of putrid green. That’s how I’ve always imagined it. That’s how I see it still; that unnamable, unseen presence which pursued
Storm-weathered and Fear-worn Read More »
I awoke with a startle, as if someone had shaken me awake. All was quiet, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I always have a night light on, as a precaution, and it was functioning as beautifully as ever, the near-vacant room illuminated in its shine. However, when I
