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Master, please wake up. Everything will be okay. I'll just lay here next to you. Too bad you wouldn't teach me how to use the phone. I saw how to use it on TV.  You said I wasn't allowed to touch it, so I won't. I'll be a good boy.

I hear them every night: the screams.

The cops had everything about the kidnapping of Joey wrong. Their prime suspect, Scooter the Clown was a well known children's entertainer in town. He performed at parties, like Joey's all the time. At the precinct I am an insignificant ant flailing for the attention of titans. Finally, a cop turns to me and says, "Are you lost little boy?" On cue, my silence held no longer.

It is said that in the times of the Romans, there was a mighty general who was abandoned by his cowardly men in the midst of a great battle. In death, the general swore vengeance on those who had abandoned him. He was granted this when a dark goddess allowed him to return to the land of the living as a vengeful spirit. His sole purpose was to get revenge on those who had wronged him.

I was driving home late one summer evening. It was dark and everyone was in their beds. My eye lids felt heavy as I struggled to pay attention to my driving on the dark and empty country road. I knew this road so well I probably could drive home with my eyes closed. It didn't sound like a bad idea as I sleepily nodded.

I want to start by saying that if you’re someone who thinks the beta of Luigi’s Mansion is better than the final game, you are wrong. This is a bold statement, but the beta is complete garbage. How do I know this? I worked as a game developer and assistant during the process.

Chapter 1: The Arrival My name is Emily Parker, and I've always been drawn to the mysteries of the supernatural. So, when rumors of a haunted mansion hidden deep in the woods reached my ears, I couldn't resist the pull of curiosity. Little did I know that my quest for answers would lead me into the heart of darkness itself.

I know I shouldn't have this written down. But I have to warn the world. My only fear is that other's will be curious instead of fearful. Ever see something in the corner of your eye and look at it, only to find that no matter how quick you look it's not there? Well, I saw it. And trust me when I tell you this, you do not want to see it.

I spend most of my time at the park with just my thoughts. I find it peaceful and comforting; except the eyes by the tree. At first I thought the man was just like me, he loved coming to the park because it’s quiet, almost too quiet. But every day, he seemed to be staring at me more intently and it discomforts me. The day before, I was watching the news and it depicted a murderer who preys on teenagers. The murderer looked exactly like the man at the park; it really ticked me off provocatively.

Far beneath the Sinnoh region, there lies a vast area of tunnels. If you're a resident of the region, chances are you've already heard the stories. Most people know it as a place of entertainment and adventure; a place where you can experience your very own treasure-hunt. Because of this, the darkest secrets of the tunnels are overlooked, and sometimes even forgotten by everyone not personally affected by it.

I sat down with my bowl of popcorn, drenched in butter, just the way I liked it. I picked up the TV remote and flipped throught the channels. It was the same old stuff as always, advertising for the newest toys, or soap operas about Italian families who never get along. I stopped at the news channel.

April 23, 2000

Today is the first day of my new job as a teacher at the high school I once graduated from. Other than the fact at how damn early I had to get up, I was 100% ecstatic and ambitious towards what may happen on my first day back there.. 5:30 AM came all too quickly. I was in and out of the shower, dressed and. Ready, coffee in hand by 5:55 I hastily locked up my apartment and made my way to my car. I fumbled around a little in the darkness while trying to get into my car, but I eventually got it.

Lilleth stared up at the ceiling while bundled in her covers. Dimly lit with various band posters taped to the wall, it’s the room of a typical punk girl. She nodded her head to the beat, and softly sang along to the heavy metal playing on her speakers. She heard her mom calling over the music.“What!” Lilleth snapped, annoyed because she knew she would have to get up.

One of the first memories I could recall was my father leaving the family. He didn’t speak a word to us, just walked toward the groves. I never saw him after that day. The part that disturbed me most was how everyone else took this. They all just stood there, watching on with knowing eyes. As if they knew that this day would come eventually.

When I read the articles about him. I spent three weeks looking through my window. I was terrified by the thought of him being in the woods. I thought it was hunting me at first, trying to get me into a tragedy; it wanted me to suffer, but I was entirely wrong. I know, what a way to start, but I have been suffering from sudden explosive nosebleeds and migraines.

The unrelenting dirt road twisted and turned in front of James, small rocks popped under the tires and a cloud of dust billowed behind him as he drove on through the forest. He was visiting his brother over a long weekend of three days. A trickle of sweat fell over his brow and into the rims of his glasses. He was a city person, he had never been in the country for a day in his life, and, although the hot Italian sun and rough terrain was bothersome, he found a sort of peace in it that was…

Ever seen dead bugs on a windowsill? Of course you have, it’s quite common, especially in the countryside. A still ladybug, a pile of flies, or maybe a spider curled up in a ball, it doesn’t matter. You can see them anywhere. You knew that. But here’s something you didn’t know: whenever you see dead insects or arachnids of any kind on the window sill, it’s a sign. It means you will have many restless nights, full of nightmares. It may not happen immediately, it may even takes months or years…

It was the normal routine for me- wake up, get ready, work for hours, go home, eat, and sleep. By 'normal routine,' I mean 'painfully repetitive routine.'

I woke up sweating. This was the third time this week that I had this strange recurring dream. It feels so real, like I can hear the voices clearly, feel the contact with my skin. Sometimes I can't tell if it's real or not.