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Lovecraftian

My Memories Vanished Beneath The Black Sand

I awoke lying face down in cool, black sand. The air smelled strongly of ocean, yet when I sat up and wiped the dirt from my face, there was no shoreline in sight. Instead, what I saw was an endless horizon of black desert. Every direction was the same; a …

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There’s a Giant Person in the Sky

I think I’ve lost my goddamn mind. Everything was fine until I walked out of work this afternoon. Dan, my cube-mate, and I were walking out of the building talking about our plans for the weekend. We had been pulling overtime, one of our clients was being more needy than …

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Thalassophobia

I hate the water. Always have, always will. Oh, sure, I’ve swum in pools and jumped off diving boards like any other person, but I have never once allowed my feet to leave the ground at a beach or lake. Something about not having solid ground to stand on freaks …

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Between Ice and Stars

The hull of the ship moaned and groaned under the strain of its frozen enclave. HMS Stargazer and its crew had initially set out into the deep unknown to map uncharted territories, but winter descended quickly upon them and they found themselves trapped between stars and ice for months. Supplies were running thin and the captain of the ship, a tall and clean shaven gentleman by the name of Gerald Northington, had assembled groups of hunters to venture out in search of seal meat. The most recent hunting expedition had yet to return and Northington was pacing anxiously up and down his quarters.

The Haunter of the Ring

As I entered John Kirowan’s study I was too much engrossed in my own thoughts to notice, at first, the haggard appearance of his visitor, a big, handsome young fellow well known to me. “Hello, Kirowan,” I greeted. “Hello, Gordon. Haven’t seen you for quite a while. How’s Evelyn?” And …

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Ooze

In the heart of a second-growth piney-woods jungle of southern Alabama, a region sparsely settled by backwoods blacks and Cajuns—that queer, half-wild people descended from Acadian exiles of the middle eighteenth century—stands a strange, enormous ruin.

The Terrible Old Man

The Terrible Old Man

It was the design of Angelo Ricci and Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva to call on the Terrible Old Man. This old man dwells all alone in a very ancient house on Water Street near the sea, and is reputed to be both exceedingly rich and exceedingly feeble; which forms …

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The-Terror-of-Kambigan

The Terror of Kambigan

On certain quiet nights under the watchful gaze of a full moon, one could hear surreptitious moans, half manlike and half swine, in the dead air of Barangay Kampigan in the hill regions of Buena Vista near the border to Inabanga, both townships in the province of Bohol. It is …

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Heavy Rain

It was supposed to be such an uneventful day, but overhead the clouds churned and plotted. Rebecca Madison saw and heard the roaring of the wind against her car, but she didn’t care. It was warm inside, so what did the fierce cold outside have to do with her? It …

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Oceanic Absurdity: An Account of Nautical Horror

A bestial tentacle breached the surface with a tremendous display of aquamarine power. The resultant shower of water rained down in a torrent upon the deck, drenching the observing passenger. A groan, impossibly deep, reverberated from the waters; an ancient guttural bellow that shook the three thousand ton ship. At …

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