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Up until January 12th of 2047, it was widely accepted that the ex-planet Pluto was accompanied by 5 natural satellites; Charon, Nix, Hydra, Kerberos, and Styx. The crew of the deep space exploration vessel Hermes discovered a 6th moon whilst photographing the distant planet as they orbited Neptune before their final journey home. When Houston was informed of the development, they were underwhelmed to say the least, as any mass as small as Hermes had described was far too small to be interesting…

DATE OF INCIDENT: 2306-04-29 REPORTING OFFICER: Captain L. Voss, Service No. 4071, District 9 LOCATION: BLACKGULL-9A-0102-THALASSA INCIDENT TYPE: ANOMALOUS EVENT INCIDENT SEVERITY: CRITICAL

Part I

Silences are louder than the music on the radio.... Quiet, is the noise of white and light... The silences can be loud too, when the quiet gets noisy, and your mind starts to hurt.... When your mind starts to see danger wherever you go... Anxiety, dressed up in the hidden depths of your mind.... And it will never let you go... Depression, forms of smiles, and 'I'm Fine'.... Where your mind is your worst enemy, that another person can't hurt you with words...

I’m writing on here about a missed connection. I was at the Bernard Mall retro game store around 3 pm on Saturday. You were in the fantasy aisle. Your hair was a shining auburn that graced your gentle frame, and when you turned to me. Your eyes lit me up like the mystical northern lights. Their hazel flecks danced even in the dull lighting, and you smiled. And your blushed cheeks a shade of rose so sweet a hummingbird would confuse you for a bloom.

Tap. Tap. Tap. My footsteps echo through the dark hallway. I swallow hard as I get close enough to the door. Damnit... Does it really have to be done? I can feel my arms tremble. Just before coming here I dressed warmer, but the cold is still entering my body. "Come on, come on." I whisper trying to get some motivation into my body. One minute. Two minutes. "Fuck..." I press the doorknob down and look down the stairs. I have no choice but to go down. Step. Step.

First event

James Locke had always been a quiet man, the sort whose presence barely registered in a crowded room, and he had grown used to it. There was a strange comfort in being unnoticed, in blending into the gray pattern of city life without anyone truly looking at him.

“Dude, SHUT UP!” “What?” “Yeah, he’s right so please shut up. You’ve been telling the same exact setup, it is always something like someone just hunting a guy down and then everybody dying. Be original for once.” My friend, let’s call her Lucy, said to Jake. I threw my head back and laughed as I put the melted marshmallow inside the s'mores, broke chocolate bars, and slid them inside of the graham crackers.

I went to see the Five Nights at Freddy’s 2 movie as soon as it came out. I am not going to give any spoilers in case you haven’t seen it, and that’s not what this post is about. All I will say is it was a great movie, amazing for fans of the games, and it’s cool to see how far the series has come.

I’m pretty sure most people have heard of the Appalachian Mountains. That place is a hotspot for unsettling encounters, yes, I know, how cliché, but yes, I found this location there while visiting the place for some sightings I wanted to capture and upload to YouTube.

There was a sound, once, in Black Hollow that wasn’t made by men. Before the pickaxes and drills, before the coal trains and dead canaries before the mountain was stripped naked and hung with wires there was something else. The old ones called it “The Hollowing,” a word whispered by toothless women by firelight. They said it came when the ground was too deep, the hunger too great. Not a cave-in or gas, not even hell. Something worse.

“I consider it useless and tedious to represent what exists, because nothing that exists satisfies me. Nature is ugly, and I prefer the monsters of my fancy to what is positively trivial.” -Charles Bauldelaire

Darkness. Not a peep in the void. Then shapes, sounds, blurred and distorted, but growing into something more tangible. I feel my feet on the floor and my arms by my sides. My mouth is dry, and my breath comes to me in short gasps. Tasteful piano music soothes my aching brain, though I see no piano. I blink the haziness away and take in my surroundings, realising with moderate shock that I’m in my household ballroom.

Sol 5111 A voice awakens me to darkness. Terrifying darkness. The voice is concerned. Concerned about my well-being. Who am I? Who is the voice? Whoever it is must be a friend. Why else would they be worried? Yes, they must be a friend. It is a kind voice. But what is it worried about? Why is it dark? It must be a storm. Yes, it must be a storm.

We humans pride ourselves on being social creatures of moral thought. We thoroughly believe that we are superior compared to every other animal on the planet because we are able to perform action only based on morals. Charitable donations, helping the environment around us and simple acts of kindness present a portrait that we concern ourselves with the existence of others. And with that, we think ourselves better than creatures. But we’re not superior. The Un-rapture proved that.

I wake up to the sound of sizzling oil and the smell of eggs. I bring my hands up to my face and I am met with caked blood on my wrists. It is not surprising anymore. I hear tiny feet pad down the hallway and my brother opens my door. "Ada, breakfast is ready," Timothy says. I chuckle. He still has not managed to get his lisp under control.

4:23AM I didn't imagine it... I'm not fucking insane. My vision may have been distorted as a result of my excessive alcohol consumption, but I know what I saw. I know that it was real, I've been sat in a bath full of cold water for the past hour to try and shake the feeling of being covered in blood. Her blood. - 5 hours earlier -

When I was young, I was always told the sounds I heard at night where made up. "It's just a figment of your imagination" my Father would always tell me. But every night, as I layed tiredly on my stomach, covered from head to toe in blankets, I could have sworn I heard what almost sounded like someone tapping their fingernails across the floor of the attic above my bedroom. Whenever I heard it, (usually around the first night of every month) it would begin ever so quietly. It'd always start out…

I want your sickness. You see, I spend my time here, each hour of the day and night, I sit in the shadows just to watch. I study your every move. I know your routine well, in fact. You wake up each night at 03:00, still shuddering from a nightmare, and drag your tired body to the washroom. It gives me such a thrill, this routine, because what you don’t know is that it’s not a nightmare. I am, in fact, only inches away from you.