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I woke up. Sheets were stained with sweat, breath was no longer bated, and unconscious solace began to surcease. Depression kills. Not in a directly physical way, not in a way perceivable by anyone except the sufferer. It made me feel psychotic. It went past the brain tissue, into the atoms of their molecules. I always imagined the electrons painstakingly orbiting a chunk of ice. There was never light in my imagination.

BOOM! Kaitlyn bolted up in bed in a cold sweat. She nearly fell out in a panic, and then managed to right herself. After catching her breath, she managed to calm down and glanced at the clock. 12:30 AM. Fucking great. She knew that she always took at least an hour and a half to get to sleep, and she had to be to work at 4:30.

I am Salt, and I love you. I have loved a lot of people, but now I love you. Last week actually I loved this sweet little girl. Her name was Lisa. She had sweet straight golden hair and small blue eyes. When I saw her I just knew I loved her.

I read a book as a child. I summed it up and added a few details. --------------------------------------------------------------------- "Mr. Weston the doctor will see you now." The nurse hung up the intercom. Even though Sam was really nervous, he started to laugh at the fact that the lady called him Mister. That was his Dad's name. It was October 31, 1973, and 9 year old Sam Weston was in the hospital, about to go into surgery. He had to have his tonsils removed.

I wake up because I really have to pee. Sliding out of my bed, I sneak past my roommate and into the bathroom. I'm really glad I woke up to pee. I always do, but not being able to wake up from deep sleep to pee is a symptom of frontal lobe abnormality, a symptom of maladaptive social behavior: antisocial. It's funny how so many people use that word incorrectly; the words they mean to use are ‘social anxiety’ when they say antisocial, because antisocial is the psychiatric and correct term for…

The hallway of the Oakridge Apartment Complex always smelled faintly of stale carpet cleaner and damp plaster. When I moved into Apartment 4B three months ago, I didn’t care about the smell. I was twenty-six, freshly independent, and thrilled to finally have a space of my own. On my very first day, as I struggled with a taped-up box full of kitchenware, a man stepped out of Apartment 4A to hold the heavy security door open for me. His name was Randy.

I was five when the man in the wolfman mask scared the shit out of me. No, he didn’t eat me. No, he didn’t kill me. He just gave me one good Halloween scare.

They all think it is wrong to be greedy but in my eyes it is not. So what if someone else goes without just for me to gain? THEY SHOULD HAVE WORKED HARDER DAMNIT! Everyone knows those who don't work end up poor and why should I care if someone was too lazy to work for what they wanted? But you can see it my way too cant you? the glorious gleam of coins jingling in your pocket? the crisp snap of a dollar wasted to satisfy your ever growing needs? the lavish means of living and the…

It's late and I've just gotten home from work, I walk up to the front door and stick my key in. When the familiar, soft click reaches my ears I push it open. Behind it the dark hallway greets me. Normally I don't hesitate to enter, but today something feels... off. I remain standing just outside, staring inside the building. It looks the way it has always looked. It smell the way it has always smelled. So what is it that makes me feel this way?

Takunda was just issuing out of the lavatory when he sensed that all was not right on the school premises. The siren had just wailed moments ago, signalling the end of lunch time. He didn't expect to find the hallway so cleaned out. Usually at this hour, he would've expected to find a few delinquent pupils lazing about the lockers and probably busying themselves with the latest school gossip.

I already know what you’re thinking. A gnome? Despite what the term I use might suggest, these creatures aren't rosy cheeked little bearded men with a pointy hats and quaint little tunics. As my friend would later find out, and as I'd feared for a long time, these beings are much stranger and far different from what is typically portrayed.

I recovered from a coma I had a while back; I can’t recall the date, but I was driving back from a convenience store for groceries, and one of the overhead cables blew out and hit my vehicle, and then I woke up; it was somewhere like my own home but not really.

The sound of thunder echoes and booms in the night sky. The rain that falls to the ground is heavy and unforgiving. A bolt of white-hot lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating an eerie and unsettling sight. A young boy stands over the dead body of a grown woman. The water from the rain hides the tears that fall from the boy’s face. The woman’s body is bloody, beaten, and has a large gaping hole through her stomach. Blood no longer pools under the body; it is all washed away by the…

Our archipelago is an excellent hunting ground. In all our cities, in all our towns, in all our places, it's incredibly easy to spot the prey you're pursuing. In fact, it's almost impossible not to encounter them. Like a plague, thousands upon thousands of them fly nonstop to the islands, like a plague of locusts. When the heat increases, their numbers also increase.

Chapter 8: The Wish The seven statues that lined the chamber stepped down from their pedestals. Each holding the stone swords that sat in front of them. The suspended head above looked down on Requiem with anger, and uncertainty.

Chapter 7: Reputable Amongst the Worst The ground was slowly taken out from under Requiem’s feet before he was yanked to the ceiling. He landed hard on his back with his arms splayed out. Little by little, all the rubble from the ground below did the same. Wrath's body fell up landing directly on Requiem with the stone foundation below soon to follow.

Everyone thinks they have an idea of what madness is, but in reality, you don't. I've come to accept that our physical death is nothing compared to what happens in the other plane, and there is nothing we can do about it. An unseen world that we share with our counterparts. The madness I will never understand. Yet, I was able to realize at a very young age that they will take us all a lot sooner than we think.

Sometimes we do things without really thinking them through, especially when we feel desperate. I think it's finally safe to share this story, everyone else who knew about it is either dead or senile. I'm so old at this point that it doesn't really matter if anyone comes after me, anyway.

Data Log #16358 I gave the remaining crew of The Rubellion a few days to bring up their troubles from our last raid. Not one spoke up. I commanded my first mate to, "set course for Odin's Eye, then tell everyone to meet in the hangar in ten."

The current date is the twenty-third of September 2004. I am Dr. Yankin of [REDACTED] company. Today we will be going through the research of the test subject known as “Ghoul”. SUBJECT: Soldier #3154 Private Peter Terrison. Now referred as “Ghoul” Age: Thirty years old The Private was a part of our 3rd company's task force known as the “Cult watch”. They were tasked with the search and destruction of cult-like activities before they became too large or summoned something eldritch.