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haunted houses

11 Rules for Idiots Who Bought a Haunted House

Well you really screwed up this time, didn’t you? You found a gnarly deal on a beautiful home that almost seemed too good to be true, and you jumped at it. And now that you’re all moved in, you’ve started to notice some anomalies. You know the type: the spooky-dooky …

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Father Cooke: Part 6 – Don’t Stop Believing

I sat on the wide ledge looking down at the people walking by on the sidewalk far below. They really did look like ants when viewed from so far away. I hope I don’t land on anyone. That would royally suck, for them. I wasn’t too worried about it because if it did happen, I’d be seconds away from never having to worry about anything ever again.

Whistling

When people whistle, it kind of irritates me. Not like Axl Rose from “Patience” whistles, but just does so to pass the time. When people whistle or hum to themselves it’s always just kind of grated on me, but only when it’s been tuneless. When there’s a tune to it, a melody, it doesn’t get on my nerves, it just makes me… unsettled.

Laughing in the Dark

Bill Tanner, a retired USPS mail carrier, ran a local haunted house that had become quite well known in the city where he lived. Established as a terrifying and fun way to unleash people’s greatest fears upon them, it was aptly named “Tanner’s House of Horrors.” People came from miles …

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Father Cooke: Cat’s in the Cradle

Publisher’s Note: This story is a prequel and takes place before all of the previously released Father Cooke and Magister Alexander stories, which you can find here. The author invites you to read the other tales in the series after completing this one. Oh shit, I thought as I walked …

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The Valentine House

“Damn, Valentine shit already?” I asked my friend Gabriel as we were walking inside a Wal-Mart post Christmas. “Yeah, bro, and it’s still December. It’s like they’re completely ignoring the months in between the other months that have major holidays.” “True, true, annoys the shit out of me though, you …

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Box Fort

Alright, we all remember those cardboard castles of our youth, the ones that were better than any Fisher-Price playhouse precisely because they had been painstakingly cut out, taped together, and decorated with our own hands. And unlike the fancy plastic cottages your parents spent a fortune on, these ones could …

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Father Cooke: Part 5 – Burning Down the House

Publisher’s Note: This story is part of the author’s Father Cooke series of interrelated stories. If you enjoy it, the author invites you to click here to read the other tales in the series. “1…2…3…4…5…6…7.” I flicked the light in the bathroom off and then on again seven times, counting every …

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All My Friends Are Dead

Part 1 All my friends are dead. Don’t take that the wrong way though. I can’t say I knew any of them when they were still alive. Well, at least most of them anyway. I guess I’m what you could call a psychic. I’ve never liked that word though. I …

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the crooked room

The Crooked Room

Call me Bramwell Alden. I can’t give you my real name because my prick of a family is too well known. My ancestor William Alden came over on the Mayflower, and my grand aunt has been bragging about it since the day the boat landed on Plymouth goddamn Rock – …

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NoEnd House

Let me start by saying that Peter Terry was addicted to heroin. We were friends in college and continued to be after I graduated. Notice that I said “I”. He dropped out after two years of barely cutting it. After I moved out of the dorms and into a small apartment, I didn’t see Peter as much. We would talk online every now and then (AIM was king in pre-Facebook years). There was a period where he wasn’t online for about five weeks straight. I wasn’t worried. He was a pretty notorious flake and drug addict, so I assumed he just stopped caring. Then one night I saw him log on. Before I could initiate a conversation, he sent me a message.

The Dionaea House

10.7.2004 Jennifer, friends and family of Mark, As promised, here are copies of the correspondence I received from Mark over the course of the last month. For the most part, I have merely copied and pasted them from my email application. As you’ll read, he requested this, in hopes that …

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Turn Off the Light When You Leave

In Finland, there is an old but still inhabited yellow apartment, situated in a small city near an important railroad. Almost all of the people living there are over 70 years old, and in fact it seems that younger people simply won’t stay there for longer than a year. If …

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