Most read stories

Behind the unsteady glow of a flickering candle, Gideon, a man of pallid skin and restless eyes, sat slumped in his painting chamber. He would spend his days withering away here as he grappled with the monstrous quiet of an unraveling mind. He was known to be a brilliant portraitist, capturing the essence of his subjects with confident, precise strokes. In his hands, even the smallest nuance became a revelation, bringing to light the hidden beauties within every visage.

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.

This is a story of a boy I met when I was still young. His name was James Elkin, and he lived in the house two doors down from me. We weren’t friends, but I did greet him a few times when I saw him. He always looked small for a nine-year-old and had long, uneven hair.

Sarah gambled.  She played video poker and the ponies at the track.  She knew the odds of blackjack if she split a pair of face cards.  She’d played the office football pool--until she was fired for taking one too many three-hour lunches at the casino.  She gambled when she had money and, on credit, when she was broke--before she’d maxed out her credit cards and the debt collectors started dogging her steps.  She gambled when she was happy and she gambled when she was miserable--which was…

As I wandered through the park once more, walking towards the circus, I could feel a sense of dread boiling from within me, it felt as if a thousand eyes were watching me, staring into the back of my soul as I wandered towards what felt like certain doom, the feeling of fear and despair only growing as I saw the big top tent in the distance, and saw the abandoned trailers that seemed to surround me from all sides, with crates and hay bales stacked against them. I could feel myself shaking as I…

Once upon a time. long ago. A kingdom of beauty and sirens were told. The royals were all fair, but a plague drew near. The people begged and screamed for the royals did not make a beep. Unknown to the people. The fairest daughter fell ill. The King journeyed far and away. A little doll was gifted to the fair daughter. She loved it so, the doll was odd to others, for it did not match the princess. The princess had hair of ocean blue. She wore dresses of vibrant hues. The doll, however; was…

This story is about a young guy named Finn who lived and survived in a dark thick forest where snow fell often and anything that could move was still and frozen. Finn was ice fishing with his regular gear, near a hut he had found which was made from tree bark and vines growing over a structure formed from ice. He smiled as he reeled in a large catch, and he began to dance. However he slipped on the ice and hit his head on a rock. Looking around for any witnesses of his embarrassment, he saw…

I’m sure you all have heard the tales about the trucker who was driving late at night and stopped to pick up a woman on the side of the road and the woman turns out to be a ghost. Right? Well, I’ve got a story for you that trumps that one.

There's a misconception that sadness can lessen one's life. That a broken heart is the first step into the grave. We see it countless times where a true love is lost and the other follows not long after. Empty sympathies are offered, claiming the poor soul died of a broken heart. But what if I told you that broken heart was the key to everlasting life?

I want your sickness. You see, I spend my time here, each hour of the day and night, I sit in the shadows just to watch. I study your every move. I know your routine well, in fact. You wake up each night at 03:00, still shuddering from a nightmare, and drag your tired body to the washroom. It gives me such a thrill, this routine, because what you don’t know is that it’s not a nightmare. I am, in fact, only inches away from you.

To give you some context, I've been working for a large maintenance company for 10 years. In terms of our sectors of activity, we cover a wide range: industry, healthcare, agri-food, tertiary... We even work for private individuals and local authorities. In other words, we're always busy. For my part, I work in a subsidiary specializing in tag and graffiti removal.

I tended to hate Halloween. Don’t get me wrong; the candy was always something I would look forward to. Hershey bars were especially my favorite. No, what I disliked about Halloween was dressing up. I’m certain you would find it odd as to why that is. My family had been through some hard times and as such, we often recycled cloths to create Halloween costumes. I was always made fun of because of my raggedy costumes. One time I went as a ghost and the costume was a mix match of fabrics that were…

In the darkest night, where shadows creep, The Soulstitchers come when you should sleep. With gaunt and shadowy forms they stride, To haunted places, they will guide. Their flames are smoke, icy-cold and bleak, A formless fire that none can speak. Frantic movements, masks they wear, Tearing at their faces, a chilling scare. Yet in the silence, they move so sly, No sound to mark their passage by. To the site of trauma, they'll lead you near, In hopes that you will face your fear.

I had never had Christmas Carollers in my neighbourhood before. I think it’s one of those bygone traditions that have survived more in pop culture than actual practice. I never doubted that people still do it somewhere, sometimes, but I’ve never seen it happen in person and never really thought much of it. But on the last winter solstice, I finally heard a roving choir outside my window.

I sat in awe of the message in front of me, illuminating the wall behind my desk in unholy light. “Suspended from further work-related activities.” At first, I was shocked by the sudden change in employment status my life held. Next, I was apprehensive that this was merely a mistake from the Human Resources Department. I grabbed my phone and dialed the number with vindictive fervor, indignant by the way I was treated by the company I slaved away at for 17 years! 17!

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.

Since the 1990s, people from all over the world have received a series of strange phone calls dubbed the ‘Wake Up Calls’, from an unknown caller. These calls at first, according to witnesses, seem like mundane calls from telemarketers or people calling the wrong number. Though shortly after, usually after the 3rd or 4th call, the calls seem to take on a more eerie and bizarre air about them.

Darkness. Not a peep in the void. Then shapes, sounds, blurred and distorted, but growing into something more tangible. I feel my feet on the floor and my arms by my sides. My mouth is dry, and my breath comes to me in short gasps. Tasteful piano music soothes my aching brain, though I see no piano. I blink the haziness away and take in my surroundings, realising with moderate shock that I’m in my household ballroom.

Important Reminder: This Post Has Been Deleted The following content consists of Facebook posts made by the deceased Zhang Yaxin in the past few days. To prevent causing panic, these posts have been deleted. The copies you see now have been processed. Image: A fortune teller's face with one gold and one blue eye, wearing vintage glasses, a prominent nose, slightly curly hair at the ends, looking about 24 years old.

The longitudinal study was conducted to observe what has been regarded as the Final Filter of Civilization among 3-dimensional lifeforms. While preceding observations provided valuable insights for the mechanism, this study considered variables hypothesized to be more relevant.