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I am glad to have friends. I know a lot of people find high school a really lonely and difficult time, but for me it was surprisingly easy. I wouldn't say I was popular by any stretch of the word. Maybe there were just a whole lot of "outcasts" at my school so I fit in perfectly. The closest friend I had was Bridget. She and I both loved to play online games like WOW or GTA and that's actually how we met. It's nice to have a crew in GTA or a clan in WOW and so I joined one and she was the…

I rest for a while. Now is time to get up and try once again to find an exit. Walking and looking for markings on the walls, a stain, a scratch, a spider web I haven't seen yet. Nothing. Perfect walls, untouched. I examine one of them looking for imperfections. Nothing. The maze looks like a work from Nature itself, a little trap created by the forces that rule the universe so they can have fun watching vermin like me struggling for a little bit of sunlight.

Every now and then, I get a snatch of a song running through my head. When that happens, it can drive me nuts, and it's a devil of a time trying to get another song in there to replace it. It's gotta be another song, though. I can't ever just have a head full of peace and quiet. Sometimes the song I try to listen to and replace the persistent one will instead mix with it, creating this weird cacophonic mash-up in my skull that makes me want to stab somebody.

I must type this sentence to keep the monsters away. I don't know why this works, but it does. The faster I type, the further away they are. Sometimes, I think I might be able to type fast enough to make them go away. Yet, if I stop for only a moment they will return.

Read Part 1 Here This is what happened next. I’ve been up for three nights. Energy shots and cold showers help. I don’t want to sleep. It’s been much worse lately—the dreams, and the voices. I won’t smoke anymore of these things, I’ve decided. I need answers first. And I need these maddening voices and whispers to stop barraging my nights. I have to listen to music, TV, something, at all times. Or I start to hear them. So far, I’ve only told Mike about what happened.

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.

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…

Polybius is an urban legend about a rare arcade game released in 1981. The game was created by a mysterious company called Sinneslöschen (German for "Sense Deletion") and was a puzzle/shoot-'em-up somewhat like Tempest. It was only released in a few suburbs of Portland, Oregon.

Its been eight minutes since I sent my message. Seen, but no reply. Something must have happened. Maybe he's hurt? It's not unlikely that he tripped and hit his head. His apartment is a mess after all. Maybe he's simply ignoring me? No, of course not. He's not like that.

It was a dark and rainy day in February when I was hit by a small red pick up. February 15th. I was told I flew 15 feet before landing smack on my head. Apparently the driver was drunk and didn't see me crossing. I don't remember that day at all. Four weeks I slept, in a coma that many feared I would never come out of. I was placed in a ward of children and teens with major bodily harm or disease. My roommate was a boy named Mason. I never did find out his last name. For the time in which I…

My life seemed like it was going pretty well. I had just received my bachelor’s degree at the state college, and received the fairly well-paying job as an office manager. The thing is, something felt like it was missing from my life… I wanted love. I wanted to have a wife to keep me company, but the only women I knew worked at the office—and were drop-dead ugly.

We see the same faces passing by every day, my faithful wife and I. Ghosts walking by our windows, their faces gaunt and pale. Their speech slurred, almost hauntingly so. They held up signs, although most of which read similar messages. “Will work for food,” “Feed me,” “Spare change?” You had to feel sorry for the beggars and homeless on the streets when you run a respected, neighborhood diner.

Before you read or listen to this, make sure you are alone. If you are in a room, close the door. If you are by a window, look outside and make sure there is no one there. The only way others should know about this story is by reading it, or listening to it themselves. Do not repeat this out loud to anyone, he will hear you. But you are able to read it to yourself or record yourself. Right now, these are the only two exceptions I know about. Once you think you’re alone, look at the screen, and…

2 Thessalonians 2:11- and for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie:

Danny was a necrophiliac, that was no secret to him.

I sit up with a jolt, disorientated. If it weren’t for the sensation of my eyelids coming together to shield my eyes, I would not be able to determine whether or not they were open. The inky blackness presses In from all angles, suffocating me. You’d think after all the time I’ve spent trapped in this murky prison I’d have adjusted. No, it’s still quite a shock to be released from the depths of unconsciousness, only to be greeted by an infinite plain of shadows.

It matters not which religion you claim to be, “God” has abandoned us. Without the threat of being sent to Hell, or being judged by the almighty creator, humanity has become chaos at its worst. No rules guide us through life. Nothing can stop the rampages and murders, the robberies and crimes of all natures. The only thing that can stop it now is the return of the “One true God”. Without “Him”, humanity will cease to exist.

Day 3 I was resigned to even writing this journal, and for the first two days I kept my will strong, but even the strongest of minds cannot defeat the allure of distraction from staring at the wall of a cell. This journal entry will probably be the longest of them all. There is a lot to explain about the predicament I find myself in, and the hellhole that I now seem to be imprisoned in for the foreseeable future. To start, I should let you know who I am. I used to be a lawyer. A well off,…

I haven't been sleeping much anymore. My two room apartment has a window right next to my bed. I’ve started to notice something odd about the people going by. Have you ever seen how video game characters don’t seem to walk? They just glide forward while doing a walking animation, like a reverse moonwalk. That’s what they do, they don’t tip forward with each step, and they keep their torsos completely straight and legs moving beneath them while drifting past my window.

I find myself staring at the brick wall in front of me again. After another heavy night of drinking I find it abnormal to regain consciousness in the same place several days in a row. I'm outside of the abandoned hospital downtown. An eerie place to find yourself on a foggy morning. It seems no one is around, though you can hear the sounds of the city already busy. I light up a cigarette and proceed to check my phone. It's 7 a.m.