Nobody remembers when they appeared, some think they have been here since the beginning of time and space, or at least since the first human existed, others think they came into existence more recently. I personally don’t care where they come from, or how they got here, I only really care about keeping myself alive. The copycats, that’s what we call them. Most of the time they look almost human, trying to copy the appearances of their last victims. I say almost, because they often appear as tall as the streetlights, or have big bulging eyes and smiles with too many teeth. Some of them can speak too, sort of as a way to lure us out. In reality, most…

You may have heard about the Dandy Corporation’s modern-day ghost towns. A company as large and as long-lasting as Dandy Co. is bound to make a few mistakes, and when they do, it’s often cheaper to just ignore them than to throw good money after bad. One such misstep was the “Pirate’s Atoll” resort in the Caribbean. It didn’t start as a ghost town, of course. Cruise ships would drop hundreds of passengers off at the resort to relax in luxury. The resort had a tiki bar, a small collection of exotic animals, and daily live pirate shows. You can find these facts, and even a few photos, if you know where to look it up. Dandy Co. blew over…

Chapter 1: Lost and Found In the murky confines of the Slums, a stray cat and its drone companion, B-12, scuttled along the endless expanse of labyrinthine alleys, the drone’s light casting an eerie glow on the moss-ridden walls and dilapidated machinery. The cat, a feline anomaly in this mechanical world, surveyed their surroundings with gleaming eyes, ears perked to the distant hum of rusted gears and sputtering engines. B-12, his thrusters operating on silent, ensured they remained undetected by the wandering robotic populace. Chapter 1: Lost and Found Their explorations led them to a pitiful sight. Half-buried under rubble, a Companion Robot, Vexa, lay immobilized, her metallic legs crushed under the weight of fallen debris. She pleaded for aid,…

It’s funny how tales like this cling to you, worming their way into your mind, gnawing away, festering like a wound. They say truth is stranger than fiction, but sometimes the stories we pass down—the ones we whisper in shadowy corners or over drinks at seedy bars—are more chilling and grotesque than any proven fact. This is one of those tales. A fable, sure, but one that sits far too close to reality. Told by those who find comfort in the macabre, and believed by those who understand that the scariest monsters are always human. Ever heard of Helen? The lonely, gaunt old woman who ran that ramshackle diner out on Highway 22—the one no one seems to remember until…

October 29th The announcement hit the internet like a bomb. Cochran Brothers Tech, famous for their viral mobile apps, had outdone themselves this time.  Crypts and Corpses, the latest offering from the tech giant, promised to bring Halloween to life like never before.  It was an augmented reality game designed to transform the last 2 days of the month into a twisted scavenger hunt.  The trailer alone was enough to send chills down spines–grinning skeletons, decaying zombies, and creepy crypts, all superimposed onto real-world locations through your phone. David stood in line at the coffee shop, scrolling through his phone as the buzz about the game raced across social media.  His group chat was already lit. “Yo, you see the…

Eight years ago, during the week before Halloween, some friends and I decided to tell spooky stories around the campfire. We had always wanted to make a fire outside and hang out at night, but we were too young to go by ourselves, especially after midnight. That year things were different. ‘We were no longer children,’ we thought, so we somehow convinced our parents to let us stay out late (we didn’t tell them about the fire, obviously). Once we all gathered in front of my house, we only had to think of a good place to hang out, so that our parents wouldn’t find out about the fire. We ended up making the fire near a small dirt road…

My dog has always been kind of overexcited, running up and down the corridor, jumping all over our guests, relentlessly barking, and so on. I’m aware it’s probably my fault for not being strict enough and encouraging this type of behaviour when he was a puppy. However, over the past few days, he has been very quiet. A bit too quiet. He’s always hiding under the bed or behind the curtains, and sometimes, he even tries to hide under our linens, which is unusual since he’s never been allowed on the bed. Up until today, I just shrugged it off. It was peaceful not having him running about all the time, but right now, he won’t come out from under a few…

DIARY -DATE CROSSED OUT- I just got on the bus en route to the city. After the graduation ceremony, they told us about a part-time job as a substitute teacher at an art university in the neighbouring province. It’s quite far away, so nobody was even remotely interested in living such a lonely life, far away from our cosy little hometown and its close-knit community. Unlike my former classmates, I had nothing to hold me back: I had no job, no family, no girlfriend, not even a pet. To be honest, I was eager to leave the small apartment I was sharing with my friend –name crossed out-, so I decided to go ahead and take the job. I never…

For as long as he can remember, he’s had dreams where he feels completely unable to move. In these dreams, he sees only darkness and hears whispers—soft, yet relentless. As the dreams are about to end, he often experiences sleep paralysis, which only prolongs his torment, making the nightmare last even longer. His parents have always dismissed his experiences, saying that they too have nightmares and that it’s normal. They would tell him he just needs to get used to it, insisting it’s nothing worth focusing on. When he turned eighteen and got his driver’s license, his nightmares seemed like nothing more than echoes of the past. One day, when he came home early from his friends, he overheard his…

We had been sailing for months after departing from the port of Whitehill, and had left even the most remote hunting grounds of the whalers behind weeks ago. The charts put us northeast of the Forsaken Islands, but their bleak shores were not our destination. Our route led us farther north than most men had ever sailed, across the desolate black waters of the Northern Sea. What a fool the captain of the ship we pursued must have been to believe the unhinged claims of the priestess. There was no warm summer sea hidden by ice, no uncharted passage, no prophesied land for our people to settle. We were alone out here, so far from any known shores that not…