It was Tuesday after lunch when I noticed the Door. I was walking back from the equipment cupboard to restock my phlebotomy tray, when I passed Dr Clark’s room and stopped. The examination couch that usually sat unused against that stretch of wall was gone. In its place was a […]
A New Doctor Just Started Working at My Surgery. I Think He’s Harvesting Something. Read More »
The sun was slowly setting behind us, painting the sky in dull shades of gray and yellow, as the cold wind blew. Teresa walked with her head down, silent, right behind me. Mathias Santiago walked beside me, holding his AK-47 as if it were an extension of his own body.
I put on my running shoes with springs, designed to cushion the impact on the ground. It was my nightly ritual, something I did every single day without fail: running to the neighboring town, keeping my body busy and my mind free of thoughts. It was almost five o’clock, and
With a flick of my wrist, I flipped the cigarette up and caught it in my mouth. It was a cheap trick that I had learned as a kid from watching Robert Mitchum or James Dean or one of those pseudo-badasses from film noir who always seemed to have a
The Cold-Ass Drawers Beneath the St. Flambe Rouge Spookshow Read More »
Across the street, there is a petite little blue house. White trim, picket fence. It’s the cliché fairy tale home you read in the storybooks. I can see it through the bars of my window. The little old lady who lives there likes to sit in an old rocking chair
My Neighbor Likes to Cross-Stitch Read More »
Said to be christened Apa Moarta, or ‘Dead Water’, by a passing Romanian caravan in their native tongue, and tucked away in a far-flung, scarcely populated, staunchly isolationist region of untouched Russian countryside…beyond the grotesque, fantastical stories shared by the more ignorant and morbid of the younger generations, there’s not
The Dark Waters of Apa Moarta Read More »
I never remember feeling sick. Just a sudden headache, and my dog barking as I collapsed to the ground. The world had vanished beneath my feet, and my consciousness was trapped in darkness, disconnected from my body. For what felt like an eternity, I floated through the emptiness of the
”Am I going to die?” The kid asked me as he was being rolled into the operating theater. It was a question I’d heard a thousand times before, but answering it truthfully hadn’t become any easier, even after years at the hospital. ”Of course not, we’re gonna fix you right
This week, I was supposed to digitize all of Dr. Marnen’s patient files. I was feeling good about my progress when I saw it. A second filing cabinet, hiding behind the shelves, that I’d never noticed before. Sighing with fatigue, I yanked open the first drawer. I plucked out a
Part 1 This is your captain speaking. I’ve just turned on the seat belt sign. We’re expecting a fair amount of turbulence coming up, so we ask that you please remain seated until the sign is turned off. We’re on pace to land at Newark International Airport at 3:30 a.m.,
The Parker Express Read More »
A couple of months ago, I found a diary written by a young girl, Florence Blackwell, who was a patient at the Kings Park Psychiatric Hospital on Long Island. Without telling the entirety of the story over again, there was one person who was instrumental in Florence’s survival of inhumane treatment at the hospital; a nurse named Mary.
I Followed An Angel of Death and Read Her Diary Read More »
I grew up on Long Island, right outside of the Kings Park Psychiatric Center, home of the legend of Cropsey. I was always a good kid, never broke any rules, never really pushed the limits of what was and wasn’t “allowed”. But recently, I moved home after graduating from college,
I Found a Diary Tucked in a Brick at an Abandoned Psych Hospital Read More »
The new epidemic is already beyond its patient zero. Whether or not I am infected, I am confident that Mr. Bridestar will soon have me murdered. He will do this in order to keep the disease’s name unknown. I won’t let him win, though. At least not completely. Although this
Katy took a long hit on the pipe. Her eyes rolled up and back into her head. She choked on the smoke that invaded her lungs, and an attempt at a giggle was unsuccessful. Her blue eyes watered and her almost-laugh was strangled by another coughing fit. “I’m gonna die!”
Does it Hurt When You Die? Read More »
Craig Brockwell was found by his wife, dead on their living room floor, a plastic garbage bag tied off around his neck, and an empty bottle of Xanax on the kitchen counter, next to a suicide note. My initial external examination of the body revealed no indications of a physical
The Last Body I Ever Cut Open Read More »
Roger glanced around the desert once more. Nothing but the cloudless sky and the sand scattering in the wind, with a few cacti dotted around the landscape. With nothing else to do, he checked his magazine, already knowing how many bullets he had. Full. Adjusting his helmet, Roger sighed and
I don’t know about everyone else, but I have always had terrible vision. Generally, it gets worse from year to year, but there are some years I’m able to skip the decay. I wear contact lenses because I’ve tried to avoid the nerd stigma my whole life, I’m not entirely
Don’t Wear Contacts Made by NewLife Vision Read More »
Tinnitus: a nightmare of a disease affecting millions of people, myself included. How could I best describe this condition? An incessant, nail on a chalkboard screeching that goes on for every minute of every day. Just imagine never experiencing the true bliss of utter silence. Maybe it’s not too uncommon
I Never Should Have Cured My Tinnitus Read More »
I just got this sweet little job over on the Northside. It’s too cool; I sit with this old lady from the evening to early morning. I don’t like to party and all that, so I don’t mind. I get there and feed her through the feeding tube and I
Scratching an itch on my back, I found a hollow the size of a tack head. At my bathroom mirror I rolled my shoulder forward. Next to my shoulder blade, on my upper middle back, was a tiny hole. No plug, like a normal blackhead, but a deep hole. I watched my finger in the mirror, prodding it.
I have always wondered what it would be like to stare evil eye to eye as equals. To sit across a table from and break bread with it. This lifelong desire was satisfied some days ago, and the whole experience has left me rather shaken. In an attempt to impose
It’s quiet. There is no sound. No light. Nothing but the darkness. I am asleep… or at least… I think I am. I begin to hear a noise, a faint whistling sound. It grows louder and louder. I open my eyes and I’m on a beach, the waves crashing along
This is But a Memory Read More »
