ORDINARY FOLK had no reason to fear the Moon. Or so they thought. It hung in the sky as a welcome guardian, pale as paper in its various phases, providing light to travelers and highwaymen when it was full. It meant no harm and could do no harm. Yet tonight, […]
Blood Moon: Bound in Blood and Magic Read More »
It was early October. Acorns were raining down on the tin roofs and cheap ravaged asphalt shingles of the mobile homes around Lake Junior in Interlachen, Florida, like mother trees were dropping their kids off to make their way in the world. Across the lake the entire sky was illuminated
The wind stung with the foretelling of winter and leaves spiraled down from the trees in a whirlwind of crimson, amber, and gold. His stride quickened, anxiety biting at his heels, an unseen foe pursuing his thoughts, if not himself. Perhaps the threat was imagined, perhaps it was tangible. The
A Reckoning in Ashes Read More »
Storytelling has been a popular pastime among humans as long as language has existed. Through this telling of stories, folklore of strange creatures, haunted places, cryptids, witches, and other supernatural occurrences have evolved over millennia. Accounts of mysterious and terrifying things within the woodlands of North America have existed since
“Danny!” Martin screamed into the vacant abyss of the woods as he searched for the missing schoolboy. “Danny!! Where are you?!”He heard nothing back, only the eerie sound of the wind blowing the fallen leaves and tree branches around him. Martin listened carefully. He was almost sure the woods were
Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve had a number of well-intentioned people in my general orbit comment that they’ve noticed a large uptick in the amount of alcohol that I’ve been consuming. That’s a fancy way of saying that I’ve been drinking myself into a stupor every night. Now,
A rattled knob echoed throughout the lifeless space. It traveled across a family-less living room, bounced around the cabinets of a foodless kitchen, and wandered down a dark hallway to a sleepless bedroom. It rattled again, a stubborn old key and an even older lock. Then finally the teeth finally
Stitch-face sat three desks in front of me in grade three. We called her that because her upper lip had a hitch on the right side. An animal had bitten her, or that’s the story we made up. It’s not like she ever told us or said a word to
We Called Her Stitch-Face Read More »
Easter is always the first Sunday following the full moon after the spring equinox. Sounds a little weird, doesn’t it? This holiday’s origin varies depending on your chosen religion, but that’s not important for what I’m here to talk about. Instead, I’m going to tell you something that used to
For those not accustomed to it, life in rural Eastern Europe can feel very lonely and isolating. I’ve spent all of my teenage life and most of my childhood in London, but recently, about a year ago, we were forced to move back to the old country due to financial
There’s something haunting the Eastern European countryside. Don’t let it see you. Read More »
Hey everyone! I can’t believe the overwhelming response to my last post. When I started this thread, I didn’t expect anyone to read it – I just thought it would be one of those cool things for if I disappeared. You know, one of those documentaries where the only leads
It was almost Halloween. Leafless tree branches swayed in the crisp breeze. The grey overcast sky hinted at yet another day of rain. Yellow-grey cornstalks flitted past and dead leaves scattered as the big, brown Buick carried us down the empty country road. I looked forward to seeing Granny, even
What Lurks Beyond the Indiangrass Read More »
“Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!” ― Bram Stoker, Dracula As if a mad carnival rolled into town, the leaf-strewn street of the quaint picturesque village seemed to transform overnight in ghoulish metamorphosis into a riotous necropolis with skulls grinning and witches cackling at
Smiles of Fire to the Night Read More »
I happened upon the book at a kiosk in my town’s annual witchcraft festival. The seller, a young, red-haired woman, told me it was known as the Book of Memories. If you wrote down a recollection on one of its many blank pages and closed the book shut, it would
Harold The Tortoise Read More »
