Being the only person that lives near a cursed, murky, swamp-like lake sounds quite creepy, stupid, and moronic, I won’t lie to you, it kinda is. Most of the time anyway, but I’ve come to realize that not everything here is all bad, a lot of it in fact is […]
Tales From Lake Bottomless: Levi The Leviathan Read More »
The light of the camp fire offered little comfort to the panic that surged through him. His blood might as well have been pure adrenaline. His senses were on high alert, triggering him, causing him to jump at the slightest sight or sound. “AAAGGHHHHHHHHH! HEEEEELLLP ME”! There was that scream
October 9th I invited my old friends over for the first time in what seems like forever. We’d get together like this often throughout high school, when we comparatively didn’t have much to worry about other than the typical naiveties we all wore on our sleeves. It’s not like today.
The chill was the first thing I found odd. Florida was notorious for having unreasonably humid summers and this one had been no exception. More often than not, when the air conditioner wasn’t running, sun streaming in through the windows was enough to skyrocket the apartment into the eighties. I’d
Inside, There Was Nothing Read More »
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
Jim Sterling was not having a good night. For reasons he couldn’t begin to grasp, his life had become a nexus of misery. First, the snack machine down the hall from his office had eaten his last dollar. After pressing F4, he watched with hungry anticipation as the automated coil
There’s always something inherently eerie about living in the forest, in complete isolation. You almost always assume the worst when you’re on your own surrounded by the thickly wooded area, it’s almost like time doesn’t pass the same as it would anywhere else, like the edge of the woods was
Hershel King had been driving a big rig since the age of eighteen and that was nearly thirty years ago. He liked to tell people that he didn’t know how to do anything else but anyone that knew him worth a damn saw right through that. The truth was he
“The Scornful” By Brandon Gulling Latvia SSR, 6 January, 1942 Johannes Wulf, M.D. My stomach aches and churns from hunger. I feel the acid slowly eating away at the lining, like lava carving a canyon through a mountain. Even the rats feel the pain of hunger, violently picking at
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.
