I was sitting in an AA meeting when I found the tooth in my pocket. This was two and a half weeks ago. I always hit the Saturday night meeting in the city – it’s fifteen minutes from the apartment I share with my girlfriend, but mostly I like the […]
I Found a Human Tooth in My Pocket Read More »
The spring flu had been going around the school like usual, but some people were sicker than normal. They didn’t just have fever and headache – their faces were blotchy, their eyes bulged, and they all wheezed like they’d just run up ten flights of stairs without stopping. Cara McCormack
I love numbers, even numbers to be exact. I like that there are 48 stairs leading up to my cell. I like that I get precisely four hours of leisure time every day, no more, no less. I like that my wake up time, my breakfast time, my lunchtime, and
The night of Christmas Eve 2008 is a blur, depending on how much medication I am given that day. I can avoid the nurses for a couple of hours, but not too long. I suppose you’ve heard about me in the papers or on your favorite serial killer show. No,
I sigh, stretch, and push myself away from my laptop. I let the chair spin for before lazily dragging my foot to stop it. I had been working on a new story. One about Christmas, and the horrors it includes. It was pretty cheesy, and all the ideas felt recycled.
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
11 Rules for Idiots Who Bought a Haunted House Read More »
I don’t do ‘cold readings’ anymore. I don’t tell fortunes. I don’t read tea leaves. And I do not do contact ‘the other side’. Look, don’t judge me alright? It was an easy gig. I mean, the first time I did it, it was a joke. I did it just
The Reason I Don’t Do Cold Readings Anymore Read More »
It was the Christmas season. It had just gotten dark, as I was finally able to leave the office that night after working overtime. The streets were damp from the heavy rain; it had been an unusually warm winter. I stopped downtown for some Christmas shopping for the kids, just
“Someone has taken their love of fear one step too far.” Don LaFontaine’s iconic voice emitted from the television set. I ran over to the TV cabinet, nearly knocking over the Christmas tree that Ryan was decorating. “Hey! Easy tiger,” he said as he adjusted his Santa hat. “We’re gonna
Each year on December 5th, a person in my hometown is brutally murdered. The police are at a loss. With each victim, a poetic story is left behind. Below are the stories from the past three years. * * * * * * Fredrik loved to smile, for he was
Christmas has always been a hard time for me. Childhood memories of bickering relatives, drunken tirades, and hostile dinner conversations made me wince at the mere mention of the holiday. In the Christmas of 1989, I broke my collarbone on my new toboggan. In the Christmas of 1997, my brother
The bell above the door rang noisily as I entered the bookshop. My hopes of just browsing through the books without attracting the attention of a well-intentioned but usually annoying clerk were immediately dashed. I hate to be bothered while perusing the shelves. But upon closing the door and getting
I’ve been blind since birth. As I grew up, everything was described to me in such vivid detail that I didn’t even realize why it was that important to see, especially having no reference point to compare it. We lived in a single-floor ranch house, that’s what Father told me.
My Father Punished Me When I Talked to Ghosts 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
Hello. My name is Raymond Daws. This recording should be considered my last will and testament. It is intended for whomever takes possession of this house at 12874 N. Pryor Road. After setting aside some money for family and other concerns, I should have approximately three hundred thousand dollars left
[Recording begins] “The date is November 1st, 2018. This is–” [coughs] “This is Detective Ray Sherman, excuse me. Badge number 13557, of the Internal Affairs Investigation Unit, number 334. We are investigating the night of October 31st, 2018, Case AF6H765, where Officer Pete Mendoza was found alone with five surrounding
Part 1: Good Will Hunting I’m a producer for Alone, the TV show on History. This story is about a participant we had in season 2, whose footage we had to cut. I’ve never felt comfortable talking about this before, especially because it opens me up for liability. After all,
I know they say Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year, but for me it’s Halloween. I deck the hall with cobwebs and fake spiders. It’s just such a special time. Autumn is here and the leaves are beginning to fall. It’s a time for dressing up and
Stories For My Daughter Read More »
I have a confession to make. I have been trying so hard to forget what I saw, but now that Halloween is right around the corner again, all these memories resurfaced all of a sudden. I now know it was wrong to keep my mouth shut. But before I tell
My Son Did Something Terrible on Halloween Read More »
“Ben? What are you doing in there?” I glanced up at the door briefly where my wife stood on the other side. “I’ll just be another minute.” There was no point in answering her question. She knew what I was doing, I’m sure. And she didn’t like it. And she
How Do You Kill a Monster? Read More »
At no point during the night was she more than a half-mile from the police station, but the park was thinly lit, and the road snaked through forest in both directions. I took a personal interest in her story after I learned about how badly her body had been mutilated.
“The Candy Man can ’cause he mixes it with love, and makes the world taste good.” ~Willy Wonka Every town has its ghost stories. Maybe it’s the haunted house on the other side of the railroad tracks, or the spirit that haunts the tunnel in the woods, but people love
Little Johnny got a fudge pop laced with razors. Susan got an orange pop filled with hydrochloric acid. Billy got Dip N’ Dots dipped in fire ant poison. 97 more to go. A new park everyday; new deaths every night. He was careful, always making false leads, always covering his
An open letter to the killer of Samantha B. If you’re somehow able to read this wherever you are now, know that I will find you. No father should have to watch their child lowered into the sacred silence of the earth. I don’t know if there is a right
An Open Letter To My Daughter’s Killer Read More »
