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A wooden totem looms in the corner, its faces twisted and hungry in the lantern light. Every year, Father carves a new one—works of pride that terrify me, though I’d never say so. “Elam,” he calls, eyes on his work, “pass me the chisel.” It’s heavier than I expect, but light in his hands. He carves with masterful ease. “Want to try?”

the first time you crossed paths, they were sitting alone at a bus stop, chewing the inside of their cheek as if trying to swallow themself from the inside out. shoelaces untied, coat a size too big, and had a look of something unfinished. you saw it in the way they held their shoulders; rounded, caving in, and in the way they stared past things instead of directly at them. the thought occurred to you that some people live like they’re already ghosts. you watched as they fumbled with a bag of…

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.

A gray SUV stopped by a white house in the countryside. The garden was a bit overgrown; the grass and trees were starting to claim more land than they had been permitted. Five people came down from the car and looked around. 'This place looks nice.' Said a tall blond girl with green eyes while taking a deep breath. 'Yeah, it's a nice place. Grandpa loved this: fresh air, the forest extends for ten kilometers, and there is a river down the hill; we used to bathe there as kids.

Five..four…three..two..one…Lift off. Those were the last words I heard on earth, as the new deep space craft lifted from ground and the rocket boosters engaged, we lifted off. First it was slow as we climbed and the G force hit us like a ton of bricks, the craft shaking violently as we struggled against the lift.

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.

Standing on the edge of the roof of that old building, the man could feel that he was standing on the rubble of his lost youth, that every step taken on those dirty streets had left memories that now formed piles of rotting and wormy corpses over which carrion birds flew. The cold winter wind chilled him to the bone, his back began to constrict and his jaw to tremble, his teeth chattering. A blizzard shook the branches of the trees and their black windbreaks, while tears slid down his purple…

It was a cold, uneventful evening, just like every other since the quarantine had started. I was scrolling through random VRChat worlds, bored and alone in my room. Most of the worlds were empty, just floating in digital silence, but one caught my eye. The world was called "Nyras’ Crypt"—no description, no tags, just the name. I figured it was probably some forgotten fan-made map. Curiosity got the better of me, and with a click, I joined.

I saw it one night. A shape moving into my kitchen like it was afraid of the fact I saw it. Always I go to the kitchen to see if it's still there in the dark or not. I'm always too slow to catch up to it. By the time I reach the kitchen it's always gone. By the time the shape sees light it's gone. Ducking behind the wall that covers the kitchen like if a neighbor got caught looking at your yard through his hedges.

Days turned into weeks after the discovery of the disturbing "Sammy the Cat" DVDs. The unsettling events and nightmares continued to haunt my thoughts. I decided to go deeper into the mystery, determined to uncover the truth behind this haunting show.

After a whirlwind of festivities at a recent wedding, my wife and I decided to take a much-needed break and booked a charming stone cottage for a night at a tranquil hill station.

It started suddenly. Autumn was coming to an end, the weather was rapidly deteriorating. Busy streets turned into canals filled with icy water and debris. Thin streams ran along the dirty walls and mixed with the long-term patina of rust. An atmosphere of decay, a thick, viscous feeling.

Me and my friend stumbled upon a game called "Content Warning" on Steam. It sounded like a fun co-op horror experience, where you film spooky encounters to go viral on SpöökTube. One night, we decided to give it a try. Initially, everything seemed normal. We explored the eerie environments—a deserted factory, a haunted cruise ship, and dark tunnels—with our single camera and flashlights. The atmosphere was chilling, with mysterious sounds echoing in the distance.

The child jolted awake in the middle of the night, a scream lost in his throat. He was covered in cold sweat and trembling all over. The nightlight next to his bed illuminated his room. There was no monster. He had simply imagined everything in a brief, terrifying nightmare. His hand reached through the darkness and pulled the cord to his lamp. The bulb flashed on and his room was liberated from the blackness. He would sleep with the light on just in case.

Nobody who ever met Ludovic Caesar could honestly say that he didn’t strike them as a reasonable and polite young man. He was strangely intelligent for his twenty three years, and there was something about the way he spoke that drew people to him. He pondered his choice of words carefully before speaking them, and when he did, they were beautiful and fluid, like poetry. Ludovic Caesar was a man who mostly declined the company of other beings, a man who was more content with his work then with…