1940
1940, it was the era of World War 2. I was a pilot and had been in action in squadron 78 in the RAF for about 3 years. I flew mostly Spitfires and I fought in Dunkirk. But something went wrong with my plane on an evening in France in […]
Lovecraftian
Midnight Visit
The darkness of the nighttime sky hangs like a shroud cloaking the Earth in mystery. The shroud is empty, devoid of the decorations that usually dot its fabric every hour past sunset. There is no night light to assure the inhabitants of Earth, that we are safe. The ground reflects
The Statement of Randolph Carter
I repeat to you, gentlemen, that your inquisition is fruitless. Detain me here forever if you will; confine or execute me if you must have a victim to propitiate the illusion you call justice; but I can say no more than I have said already. Everything that I
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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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The Siege of Innsmouth
Recently my great-grandfather died and me and my family inherited his house. We didn’t actually need it, since it was in another state, so we decided to sell it and use that money for something else. But before that we decided that we should clean the house out and get
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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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Deep
Blake Gardner awoke to an oppressive, physical darkness. It embraced him. As the cold shadows flowed around him, he felt himself falling; slowly but surely. He tried to reach out, to flail and to grasp, but only pain greeted him. Something bit into his wrists like fiery needles. His hands
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
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.
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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
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
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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Krokoa
While I am writing this in my home and at the time I usually fill my journal with my week’s exploits, my past entries pale in comparison to what I am about to document. In between my last entire and now, my mind, which is home to rational and logical
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
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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The Candle
She gave him the key as soon as he had walked in the door. It had been in a small box, wrapped up with a bow. He tried not to show his concern as he was acutely aware she was waiting expectantly for him to say something. “Well, what do
From the Deep
The knocking sound had been coming and going in my engine, and I had a feeling that my Nissan Stanza was about to die. In the back of my mind was a tiny voice screaming that it was over sixty miles to the next town and I would never make
Beckoning From the Deep
A few days ago, I uprooted my entire existence and relocated to the Southwest Cape of Stewart Island, New Zealand. Initially, I had intended this trip as an escape, to be shared with my wife as we lived out the rest of our days in beach-dwelling bliss. Yet, as we
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A Favor For A Favor
It must have been the most run-down, filth-ridden, motel room I had ever seen – the kind of place where cockroaches didn’t feel the need to scatter at the flash of a light bulb. I wouldn’t be surprised if a whole civilization of the nasty things were living between the
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A Quark in Seas of Black Infinity
I. When I dream of a void, I dream of an unending chasm. White shadows whisper, and they eat into my mind. I hear the smells of sacrificial flesh, and see the tastes of foreign meat. But these are only nightmares. I loathe my place in life. I want to
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The Missive of Jeriah Dowd
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
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A Lovecraftian Tale: Khezu of the Peaks
My name is Earl Farloth, and I was born and brought up in Arkham, Massachusetts. Many terrifying journeys have originated in my hometown, but I contest that mine is the wildest. I am a professor of geology for the Miskatonic University, and have gone on many trips for the discovery
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