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The drinks had been flowing for three hours by the time we started telling stories; otherwise, I doubt all this would have happened. My lab-colleagues and I had just submitted our yearly grant-request to the National Science Foundation. We were all on edge: if Uncle Sam rejected our request, our lab would be bankrupt and we'd all be out of work. So to boost our spirits, our lab's leader, Leo, invited us all out to the local bar and grill -- his treat.

There was a time before history. Before words. Before sanity.

There she is the center of my affection. The reason I wake up in the morning. I have heart palpitations because of her. Jessica Mackenzie. I have known her ever since preschool, and I have been in love with her since. I have tried to confess my feelings to her, believe me I have, but every time I see her, I freeze up and bite my tongue. She was always sociable. Like the planets that revolve around the Sun, she could pull people into her orbit.

Growing up, my family was like a bunch of nomads. We never settled in one place for long. Anytime my father’s job called for it, we would uproot our lives and head on to the next big thing. This meant ending friendships and enrolling in school time after time. It was frustrating having to repeatedly sever my ties with the friends I made, and the little nest I crafted for myself. But as a ten-year-old kid, who was I to complain?

9/9/2010 ... [I.You.Me has entered the chat] I.You.Me: hi I.You.Me: hi I.You.Me: who are you I.You.Me: i am you I.You.Me: no i am me who are you I.You.Me: i am you I.You.Me: you are me I.You.Me: yes I.You.Me: then who am i I.You.Me: me I.You.Me: we are me I.You.Me: yes I.You.Me: we are you I.You.Me: yes I.You.Me: we are me are you I.You.Me: yes I.You.Me: we are one I.You.Me: no I.You.Me: we are not one I.You.Me: we are one but also two I.You.Me: how I.You.Me: i dont know

This story is heavily based on the original King in Yellow lore from the 1890s. While it does have several original elements, it ties heavily to that specific lore. If you do not know what the King in Yellow is, this story may not be for you. I don’t really know when this all first started—this nightmare of the same damn color. That bright, sunny shade that I used to love, I have now learned to fear and to hate. That sickening color. Yellow.

4/5/2015 ... To: Dr. Felix Dusk From: Prof. Robert Newman Subject: Research venture

I never believed in cursed videos. I grew up when the internet was saturated with them—grainy clips passed through forums, chain emails promising death in seven days, mirrors that whispered your name if you stared long enough. None of it ever held weight. There was always a tell: an obvious splice, a cheap audio sting, a scream jammed in at the end. Fear sold clicks. Nothing more. So when the link began circulating again, I ignored it.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe because if I don’t, it will stay in my head forever, scratching at the inside of my skull like something that wants out. My name is John, and a few months ago I found something I should have left buried. It happened during a trip out west, far from any marked trails, in a place where the silence feels wrong, like it’s not empty but waiting. I came across an old shack, barely standing, hidden between dead trees and dry grass. It looked like no one had…

My name is Edward Polist, and for most of my life I was a detective. People used to say I had a gift for seeing things others missed, that I could notice patterns hidden in chaos, that I could follow the smallest detail until it led me somewhere real. I believed them, maybe more than I should have. My work became the only thing that made sense to me, the only place where the world followed rules. Evidence led to answers, actions had consequences, and nothing simply happened without a reason.…

I have been playing for a long time, and I had a lot of friends, but I had discovered this one game that creeped me out, other than that one skinwalker game.

Have you ever wished to go back? Even if it was just for a short while? I’ve seen many collapse under the weight of reality and instead choose the comfort of rose-colored glasses. It’s strange how we accept language for what it is and rarely question its origins. Take idioms, for instance—we use them every day with carelessness, never respecting their weight or power. I hear you hurl them into the void, not realizing how close you are to unveiling a path not meant to be traversed. These phrases…

Some are inherently blessed with the ability to spin words into tales, as a glass spinner creates iridescent globes and faerie wings from the thinnest strands of molten sand. They can take the small components and, with ease and finesse, lay them over one another time and time again until the moment that the masterpiece is complete. At this point the light catches on a single aspect, and sets the whole thing shining and sparkling to all who receive it. All in all, it is a beautiful thing.

I was on a business trip about a year ago and I had to drive from Denver to LA. It was a long drive and I was growing tired of the road, so I stopped at the Holiday Inn hotel that was nearby. I walked up to the desk and rung the bell. Just seconds later, a man came out from the back room. "Hello sir, my name is John Shelby," the man said, "How can I assist you?" "I'm looking for a room," I replied, "Are there any available?"

I often like to view creepy things on the internet. I don’t totally know why, I’ve just always been intrigued by things that are just…off. Any media is fine to take in the content. Stories, movies, videos, audio clips, video games, whatever. I just want to be unnerved. I work third shift, so my sleep schedule is all messed up. I sleep during the day and work at night. I get two days off a week, though, and always in a row. I could use this time to have some semblance of a normal life, but I’d…

I couldn’t take the calls any more. I just couldn’t take knowing. There was nothing I could do to stop them from coming through; I had to put an end to it.

The pain ended quickly. I rose and tried to find my body. Probably lying mangled underneath the metallic wreck. Dying in a road accident is definitely the worse way to go. "So! Had a nice life?" asked a voice behind me. I turned around to find a woman smiling. Since she could see me I was pretty sure she was a soul like me. She giggled, "You are taking it pretty well. I am Cindy by the way." I spoke evenly," What happens now? Hell? Heaven?" She laughed louder. Before I could say something I…

My friend and I always used to walk through a wonderful, spacious park when we were younger. It was full of tall trees, and it was very nicely maintained. In this large park, there was an abandoned mansion – I can’t really say how long it had been there, but on that day, the front door of the mansion was wide open. The two of us decided to check out what was inside the place. As we inched through the door, the very first thing we noticed was that the mansion’s floor was littered with crumpled…

“Anna! Wake up! My angel is here!” “What?” I eased one eye open until I was squinting at my brother. I would have opened them farther, except I couldn’t. He was shining a damn flashlight in my face. I shooed my little brother away that night, barely even bothering to look. That was the biggest mistake I have ever made.

I've decided to kill myself.