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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.

It is the Summer of 2022, and I cannot escape the heat. The heat that is the crowded, cloying musk of Kilkenny city on a sweaty Saturday night. It grimes against my mind like the late June humidity on my skin. I had been robbed of what felt like half the Summer, having suffered a bad case of Achilles tendinosis, and had spent most of May and June endlessly stretching and pacing like a caged cat in a bid to nurse it back to functionality.

Chapter 6: Face of the Forgotten He pressed forward with his claymore resting on his shoulder, leaving bloody footprints behind him. His feet regrew the muscles and skin with every step he took further into the labyrinth. Requiem walked through the labyrinth that took the shape of a dungeon. Every room he passed was vacant as he progressed through the torchless hallway that seemed to have no end.

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…

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…

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The man's mind was a blank slate, a void where the memory of how he came to be stranded on this small island should have been. He had woken on the shore, his body battered and bleeding, with the ghostly echo of an incessant beeping ringing in his ears. When he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of fire and twisted metal, but the meaning behind these fragmented visions eluded him.

You are lying in your bed, the dull whirring of your air conditioner is the only thing separating you from total silence. You know, that particular silence that is so heavy, and so thick, it’s almost the equivalent of a loud noise itself? The kind of silence where you could hear a pin drop three rooms away in; the kind of silence that fills your ears with the sound of your own heartbeat as your ear presses against your pillow. That kind of silence.

It's all white... The room I'm in and the rest of this building is probably also all white. I don't know where I am. This cold blinding white, everything is this pale color, every object, all the furniture, every.... Everything. I'm all alone, in this unending place with only one color. At first, I didn't see it as much of a problem, I am quite introverted after all. Put other people in this room and I would find it all the more terrifying.

After cleaning the shop, packing the last of my gear, and loading it onto my pickup. I closed up and locked the door. I made sure to hang a sign on the door that read, “Gone Fishing.” I was all set to leave. I took another look at the place, knowing I wouldn’t see it for at least a week. I loved coming here, to work, and to serve my customers, but I was headed on a long-overdue vacation.

Here they come, around the corner, sliding into the driveway in their family sedan. They’re back from the market, the father’s pockets no doubt lined with fresh 50s. The tires roll easily along the gravel, and I pray that lying somewhere in that collection of pebbles and stones is a glass shard, or a rock sharp enough to pierce the tires.

“Where are my smoking glasses?”

Beware, boys and girls; beware Brie Woods! It is no place for such young children; Monsters are lurking in its shadows, Big and small, wicked and kind. There are brothers that roam those woods, five of them, looking to either guide or slay its travelers. Heed my warning, and you might survive; Don't, and your death is almost certain.

There are some places in Texas I advise you to go to: San Antonio. Austin. Poteet. Dallas. La Vernia. Just to name a few if you want to experience real Texas in a breathtaking way. And then there's Kosciusko, Texas, a place that I would never bring up in normal conversation. It's a place you don't go to. It's a place you drive far away from when nighttime falls. It's a place where your car stops and stalls and you feel sweat beading down your neck as you try to jiggle the keys in fear.

The complication that is involved regarding why I am where I am is far too great for me to try and explain but, to simplify things, it’s important to know that I am ‘stuck’. I use the term ‘stuck’ lightly as I am able to stretch my arms outside the barrier I’m held in. Unfortunately, in order for me to be fully free from this blank prison I’d have to grab hold of some sort of anchor point residing in the outside world. When I grab hold of it I’d have drag myself out, so the anchor point would…

I need to find Sabrina. Something bad has happened in this house that was once a home. This was no place for a child, especially for one that calls me Daddy. Within the darkness she lies. Where? I do not know, but I will find her. God help me, I will find her.