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psychological horror

It screams when it doesn't whisper

It screams when it doesn’t whisper

My family has an odd history of tragedy—at least, that’s what my grandma would always say.“It comes in waves; it comes when it wants to,” she would ominously say, but we all knew she was superstitious and generally odd. According to my mom, who has a much-strained relationship with her,

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The bright yellow terror

The bright yellow terror

”They are down there in the water. I saw several glimpses of bright yellow popping up from and then retreating down below the surface, only to pop up again in a rhythmic fashion. Like a dance routine. Brightly yellow and deadly. Are they mocking us? The rotting, sweet stench of

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The Weaver

The Weaver

My vision was hazy. I could feel warm liquid trickling down my forehead as I attempted to lift my head. The car’s blinker thundered inside of me like a heavy bass. I tasted the blood inside of my mouth, and the coolness of the night seeped into the cracks and

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It's safer to be afraid of the light

It’s Safer To Be Afraid Of The Light

Richard removed the lightswitch to the basement stairwell. It wasn’t that he simply disabled it, no. He removed the entire thing. Plastic covering, screws, the switch box—all of it. Though, he had shut off the power to the basement for good measure, too. Every once in a while when a

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The town that could not point

The Town That Could Not Point

Everyone on the train was normal. Of course, Stuart didn’t care to notice that they were normal. When something is normal, the brain doesn’t pay it any mind. Why would it? It’s a waste of energy to notice the mundane. If it’s normal, it’s not a threat. It doesn’t need

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Night terrors

Night Terrors

“I saw him again last night.”“Who?”“The Man”.“Oh yeah,” James chuckled. “Same.”“Oh really?” I nervously giggled in response. “What did you see?”“Just the usual, he was just having a good look round, not doing anyone any harm.”This had become a running joke between James and I ever since we moved in

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driving thunder

Driving Thunder

Lane Brandon cursed himself for remembering. Out here, it was easy not to. Freight trains, barrooms, cathouses, jailhouses – all those belonged back in Denver. He’d come west to rope and tame mustangs, not to be at a hostler’s beck and call. Thus he’d enlisted his fellow groom, Gordon Plowman,

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prisonic fermata

Prisonic Fermata

On June 22nd, I returned to my hometown in the southern area of Alaska. My childhood home was falling apart, again. I bought it for fairly cheap. Despite ten years having passed since I last saw the neighborhood, it was still the worst part of town. I remember, when I

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isolation

Isolation

Day 1 Alright, this is day one of seclusion for me. My therapist recommended that I get away for at least a week to try and get my shit together. He also suggested that I keep a journal of my time in voluntary isolation to keep track of my progress.

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a mist between blue and grey

A Mist Between Blue & Gray

The one thing I know, perhaps the last thing I know to be true, is that there is a very fine mist between one dimension and the next. And crossing that mist is never good. Because even a shift in the smallest detail offers magnitudes of misfortune. – “Because hard

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I Must Have Gone Mad During Quarantine

…I give up.…This is my eighth day in quarantine. More like solitary confinement, because I have lost track of time and I live alone in a bachelor apartment. I am stuck ordering groceries online, getting food delivery—even succumbed to having my brother deliver some wine for me to get me

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