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As the fire of the crimson candle flickered and danced... The darkness moved with the candlelight. I sat watching the darkness of the night outside. For I watched the starless night down to my driveway. There at the end of the driveway was a single lamppost stood tall, a creature covered head to toe in black, darkness, and shadows.... The only thing I could see of this creature was its eyes of amber glow. Then the light of the lamppost flickered and shuttered as it broke with a loud 'CRACK!'

My name is Faith Bowman. I am a detective with the Louisiana State Police. At least… I am right now. Truth be told, once this story is out there, I will probably be fired. The higher-ups will know I was the one who leaked this story, name attached to it or not, but I refuse to stay quiet on this. I saw what happened to those children. People need to know the truth. The parents need to know. Something has to be done.

You may have never heard of it, but some consider it the most haunted painting in the world. Yet the truth is, it might be something much worse. Its artist is unknown. The work was never signed. It has no official title. For reasons that are obvious once you’ve seen it, people online have named the painting Look Over There.

I’ll start this off by letting all of you know, I’m not a good person. Neither are the people I work for. We should all be in prison or even worse. This isn’t a life I found myself in; this was the life I sought out. And a part of me knows we deserve everything that's come for us. Growing up, my mom and I lived in a shithole apartment on the south side. Everyone called it the Pits.

Both the best and worst kept secret of the generation is that the technology of the United States military is much more advanced than what is available to the public. It’s the worst-kept secret because everyone knows it. No one is walking around thinking they can buy all the parts of a B-2 and have it run with the efficiency and accuracy of the U. S. Air Force. However, it’s the best-kept secret because people don’t understand just how advanced their technology really is. Hell, even I don’t…

“As Mark Twain famously never said; buy moons – they’re not making more of them,” the spryly old man said as he fanned out brochures advertising Lunar Real Estate in front of me. Orville’s Old-Fashioned Oddity Outlet was one of Sombermorey’s more infamous tourist traps, shelling out all manner of alleged paranormal paraphernalia. Whether it was clairvoyant goggles, haunted paintings, or possessed Halloween masks, you were guaranteed to find something out of the ordinary whenever you stopped in.

“I think we should get a fifth cat,” my wife, Mabel, told me. I looked at her, amused, as we are both cat people. We have four cats: Taco, a tortoiseshell-colored cat; Ginger, a brown cat; Gadget, a black Bombay cat; and Pingu, a black-and-white-colored kitten.

It all started with my neighbors’ dog. Their pet corgi, Suzie, was the first to start acting strange. She stopped playing and barking at passers-by like she normally did. She became standoffish to her owners, spending most of her time sitting in the corner. Then, one day, Suzie was gone. A hole was dug under my neighbors’ backyard fence with tufts of red hair lodged in the fence’s boards being the only sign of her. They searched the neighborhood, put up flyers, and offered rewards, but Suzie…

I am not feeling like myself anymore. I used to feel great whenever I did things for people. You know? But here lately, something inside just does not feel the same anymore. Even when I help others, it just leaves me empty and dead inside. I can’t explain it. I feel like a walking corpse, just void of happiness and any emotion. It’s like there are two people living inside me, the person that wants to help others, and the other person that just wants to watch the world suffer. Sometimes these…

It wasn’t hard to imagine why it was called The Forsaken Coast. The bleak coastline was mainly miles and miles of high, jagged clifftops with no natural harbours, scarcely a living tree to be seen, with the silhouettes of long-abandoned and eroding megaliths standing deathly still in the shadowy gloom. Yet amidst the ruins, a lonely Cimmerian castle still remained, and the eerie green flames flickering within broadcast to all that it was not abandoned.

Has anyone heard about the Roblox horror game called Dandy’s World by BlushCrunch Studio? Well, I found a scrapped feature that managed to show up in my playthrough, and it was super rare. I thought about sharing this with you all to read your thoughts.

His face was as pale as a murderous clown with washed-out rain-splashed makeup. It was thin like an underfed anorexic psychopath surviving on a diet of saltines and water. His eyes were sunken and dried with a lackluster finish across his pupils. While they lay inset like old oysters on a yellowish bed of old sand with bright red veins. There was no nose to speak of. There was only a bump with two small holes that leaked mucus and breathed warm stale air whenever his deflated and shriveled…

I stand at your window and watch you sleep. The whole night long I make no peep. You do not know that I am there. Just know that I could get you anytime anywhere. I open the window and in I crawl. I don’t want a drop I want it all. Up on the ceiling is where I shall hang. The thought of your skin soon pierced by my fang. The taste of your blood will be a treat. The feeling of my teeth ripping through your meat. Closer and closer here I come. Into your ear is where I hum. You open your eyes and…

March 21, 2003 (I think).

A wooden totem looms in the corner, its faces twisted and hungry in the lantern light. Every year, Father carves a new one—works of pride that terrify me, though I’d never say so. “Elam,” he calls, eyes on his work, “pass me the chisel.” It’s heavier than I expect, but light in his hands. He carves with masterful ease. “Want to try?”

Have you ever heard the saying that Pens are sharper than knives? Well, they are... Pens of ink, bring life into a story... Pens of ink, create worlds upon worlds.... Pens of Ink, bring monsters and ghosts of old back to life.... Pens of Ink, create heroes and villains that fight to see which will stay and which will go.... Pens are Sharper the Knives.... Knives made wonderful meals, and end stories before their even finished. Knives are metal and always dull.... Always painful....

Hello there, I work for a tech company in the city that I live in. What company you say? Well for obvious reasons I am not giving that out. I can't have people showing up to my place of employment after you hear what I have to tell you. You can just call me V. You know the saying, "WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, STAYS IN VEGAS!", well this particular thing did not stay in Vegas. What is it you ask? Well, I will tell you the story of a girl’s trip that changed my life forever.

“Don’t let her fool you.” I tilted my head as I read my mother’s strange text. There was no context in a previous conversation or build up to warrant the strange cryptic message. I hadn’t texted my mother in a few hours and even then, it was to remind her to pick up dog food on her way home from church that night. “Who are we talking about?” I replied and waited… nothing.

Hello and Welcome to Part 3 of The Ballerina! I'm currently also working on making these parts into a whole book! Sadly, the physical version of The Ballerina will not be ready for some time; however, please enjoy the online version I have written for you all! Now, Let's begin! Davian went to his laptop and went to that blog, where he found more information about Bella's death. Just who was the blogger? Who was 'HorrorsofNights31'? He found the blog, and this page was all about him....

My father recently passed away and left me his house in his will. His house was some sort of lakefront property out in the middle of nowhere in Wisconsin. My father bought it and moved up there after my mother passed away from cancer when I was around 20 years old. I’m 30 now and I haven’t really seen or heard from him since. The news of his passing didn’t really bother me too much because even before my mother died, he was never around. He was a cop in a small town in Texas near the New Mexico…