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“I remember when you were just a little girl. Your mother and I tried our best to give you a home where you couldn’t be hurt, since we lived in a bit of a… shady part of town. When you were just a toddler, you would always follow me around the house with that cute little smile of yours, showing me that you still loved me, even after what I had done to the family. Maybe you didn’t know that I divorced your mother and took custody of you because of your undeveloped brain. No, a child naturally…

You wake up in the middle of the night. Your cat is cozily nested behind your knees and the weight of your blanket warms your tired body nicely. You sigh happily. When you are about to drift again into a sweet slumber, your cat hisses and runs frantically off your bed and hides behind the curtains.

Hope didn't like being home without her parents. All of her friends did, and they had all shared wild tales of what exactly they had done when their parents were gone. They all seemed to get a sense of satisfaction at disobeying their parents and defying their rules. Hope didn't have a rebellious streak. It wasn't that she was a goody two shoes; it was just that her parents had always been reasonable with her, and in turn, she complied with their wishes.

It was simple, we thought. Take a few chromosomes, slice them up, put them over there, and hey, perfect human being. I’m still not sure what went wrong. Maybe a miscalculation? A misprocedure? Or maybe something beyond our control. Who knows? We (a few of my psychologist colleagues and I) were intrigued by human emotion. Anger, despair, euphoria. Was it possible to lock the mind into one emotion? To lock it into a euphoric state so that no sadness or anger would cloud its thought?…

In Corona, California there once was a road known by most locals as the Never Ending Road. Specifically, the road’s true name was Lester Road. Now, over twenty years later, the landscape of Corona has changed, and the Never Ending Road is no more. However, years ago, Lester Road was an unlit road that people claimed became a never ending road when driven at night. The people who made such a drive were never seen from again.

As the dead of winter approaches, you may find yourself alone at night, feeling isolated and abandoned in an all-too-empty bed as the night grows ever bleaker. Ghastly shadows, dancing across the wall. The crying wind battering against your window. An ambulance siren in the distance. And there’s no one there to convince you that you didn’t hear those gunshots. There’s no one there. No one there. But do not be afraid. He waits for you.

Last night at around 1am, my wife and small child walked to my car after a night at my bro-in-law’s house. He lives in a sketchy suburban neighborhood so we are always conscious of our surroundings. As I was getting ready to sit in the driver’s seat I noticed a young black man staring at me with determined eyes. I stared back and nodded but he just stood there staring back at me.

That thing has been there for almost a week. The figure in the window. It looks featureless, only skin on a human frame, and it’s pressing itself against the glass somehow. I don’t know how it got there, and I don’t know how to get rid of it.

Moving into a new apartment wasn't easy when I first started college. The main issue was the rent. I couldn't pay it alone so I started networking and getting to know other girls. Callie was the first friend I met and after a few weeks of getting to know each other she decided to move in. We were still struggling so we took on another girl, Amber. Our apartment was beautiful and it didn't take long until we filled it with everything that we loved. The time we spent together was great and I even…

I was staying at a hotel in Chicago Illinois during a business trip and I was going to stay for the whole weekend. It was an older hotel, one that still used small keys rather than keycards to enter the rooms. I didn't mind, it seemed nice to get away from the onslaught of technology.

It had been a long, tiring day at work. It was quiet as I waited alone for the train. It was a bit after midnight, and so dark that I could only see the square foot around me that the small light illuminated. Fortunately, I wasn’t stuck waiting long for the train. Eagerly, I ran in the second the doors opened.

You are alone. A scared, fearful little creature in this dank and dark forest. I can smell you. I can feel your heart beating, every single one of them. I just love to dance to the rhythm as it quickens when you hear a sound. What as that? A squirrel? A fox? Perhaps it was. Or perhaps it was me.

And I am always with you. I was there from the time you were born. I stood in the delivery room, staring down at you before you could even open your eyes to see me. Your parents, relatives and doctors couldn’t see me there, in the corner, watching you with cloudy eyes, but I was there from the time you were born. And I followed you home.

It was a dark, foggy night, as it really should be whenever something eerie happens. I was walking from my dad’s house over to my mom’s. I’d had a fight with my dad about something, the topic of which I’ve since forgotten, and realized at 17 years old that I was old enough and capable enough to walk alone back to my mom’s house, instead of stewing in my room at dad’s. Besides, both of my sisters were asleep already, so I wasn’t worried about them not getting their homework done or needing help…

My eyes are in a ferverous affair with the clock, and my focus is none the wiser. The police dispatcher is pleading for me to humor her inquiries, if for no reason other than to keep my consciousness afloat. It is so late, and today has been so challenging. Nevertheless, I’ll gratify her with my story, because I am really in no mood to tell it again later.

In the first quarter of 2012, a scientist named Alexander Stuart Khaimov discovered a technological means to immortality. That is to say, Dr. Khaimov fulfilled one of the longest running pursuits of the human race – the desire to defeat death.

Please, I don't know what to do. I've tried to tell my wife about this, but she's a science teacher and thanks to my history of practical jokes, she thinks I'm just kidding. There is something stalking me. I don't know what it wants, but almost every night since I started seeing it, it has terrorized me. It doesn't touch me, it doesn't communicate in any sort of way, it just fills me with horror. If what I seem to ramble, please forgive me... I haven't slept in several days.

The summer of 1986 was for the most part pretty typical. I was ten years old at the time, so we were doing the things ten year old boys love to do like swimming, riding around on our bikes and playing little league games. The area I grew up in was very rural; populated mostly by farmers and their kids. The nearest town was Deweese with a population of under 100 and while it didn’t offer much for kids to do, we usually didn’t have a hard time making our own fun.

In the United States of America, in the state of Ohio, about forty-five minutes North West of Cincinnati, there is a large, but sparsely populated farming community known as Oregonia. Some of you who have an interest in motorcycles may have heard of it before, as the community is famous for its hills. So famous, it holds the annual “Devils Staircase Hill Climb,” where motorcyclists ride their bikes up a very steep hill hill. It's a lot more fun than it sounds, and it brings in a lot of money…

I'm a photographer, self-taught to be exact. At the moment, I'm working in my dark room to develop some pictures for my portfolio. The pictures are resting in trays filled with chemicals - one a mixture, another acetic acid, and the last with ammonium thiosulfate. That's one thing that I learned about photography. You have to wait. You have to be patient.