“What do you mean, ‘you’re almost there’?” Ralf’s voice was barely audible through the prattle of the nightly downpour. “Past the exit sign.” I leaned closer to the phone holder. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes. 30 at most.” I tried to come up with a quick estimate how long it would take to unload the hodgepodge of furniture and crates from the estate sale, but Ralf cut me off. “It’s Friday, Frank.” A pause, then: “We said Saturday.” Stumped, I just stared at the phone for a moment. “Seriously?” My schedule had been somewhat chaotic lately, and I was more annoyed than surprised that I had mixed things up. “Yes, seriously,” Ralf said through the rain and what sounded…

The nonstop pitter-patter of the cold rain against my bedroom window set the mood. I found myself rubbing my eyes, unable to follow the now swaying lines. My book was a jumbled mess of dyslexic text. I spent another minute trying to decipher the words, but my exhausted state of mind could not put meaning to them. I folded the top right corner of the page and gingerly placed Bram Stoker’s, Dracula, back on the windowsill.   I must’ve dozed off at some point because I found myself dreaming. Eyes. Red eyes the size of saucer plates peered into the depths of my soul. No matter how hard I tried to look away, I could not break the gaze. I felt…

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. My skinless hand caresses your cheek, I tilt my head to breathe in the warm scent of your neck, the rush of blood pulsing through your fragile veins filling my ears. I press my…

I’ve gotten into some trouble recently, and I need to tell people about it. I need to know if anyone has experienced something like this. I don’t want to be alone in this. I’m really, really scared. Please, bear with me while I explain what happened to me. For the purposes of this, I’m going to remain anonymous, so I don’t complicate my situation further. You’ll find out why in a little bit. I really appreciate you taking your time to hear me out and help me. It all started at school while I was taking a calculus test. The classroom door opened, and a police officer stepped inside. I remember glancing over to him, looking for an excuse to…

Mel would go to his family’s vacation house by the lake during the fall. It was a peaceful community with retired inhabitants. He arrived just as the sun rose over the tree line, having made the late-night drive to avoid traffic. Turning the car into the driveway, he parked it and turned it off. Mel opened the car door, taking a moment to stretch out. Going to the back of the car, he opened the boot, gathered his bags, and took them inside. His parents had left a note on the counter. Walking over, he glanced at the note briefly. The note stated that the pantry and fridge were restocked. If the power were to go out, use the generator…

I think Captain Gold is worried that I’m losing it. Sometimes I think I might be. I haven’t seen Marty for days. He was supposed to meet me at the Larrabee last night, but never showed. I’m starting to get very concerned. Casey is gone. I think I lost her a long time ago, but now she’s gone for good. It occurs to me that I’m jumping ahead of myself. I need to stop and recollect my thoughts. There’s a lot I don’t remember, and even more that I do, but it might not be true. My name is Arthur Spooner. You can call me Spoons. I’m 49 years old and I’m a narcotics detective in Lake Davie, Florida. In…

The following story was originally posted across 8 different installments spanning the months from October to November of 2017. They describe the true events that occurred at a now infamous small town gas station. PART ONE At the edge of our town, there’s a shitty gas station that’s open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. If you were to go inside, you’d see row after row of off-brand chips, cookies, potted meats and ramen. Expiration dates suspiciously missing from canned goods like they were filed off years ago in some misguided attempt to control inventory turnover. A faded “wet floor” sign from way back covering a crack in the foundation by the cooler that has since turned into…

Everyone has that feeling some time in their life. Some able to explain the phenomenon, and others simply cannot. That unknown feeling of someone, or something, watching you. That experience where either dread or curiosity can get the best of you. You could be quietly sitting at home, earbuds in, immersed in your technology when it hits you. You look up from your phone to see your parents sitting, watching television and paying you no mind, and your siblings sitting on the floor; drowned in a video game. But you find no source of the feeling you just had. Some people brush it off, others get paranoid, but some, they find the source. I was one of those people. It…

Hundreds of years ago the earth was flooded – a great flood. One that drowned away the evil of the world. Burying it beneath a great sea. Or so the legends would have you believe. I’ve never been one to place faith in any deities. In this vast world – there are too many different accounts of creation. Too many accounts of gods, goddesses, and the like. An educated person – and I would consider myself well educated – tends to place more faith in science. Such is my story. Yet, as stories often do, all that changed. I no longer question the evil of the world. Or the existence of a higher power. Nothing else could explain what these…

We all make mistakes. It just takes one, little mistake, and everything will be over. I won’t let that happen this time. My girlfriend and I had a fight. It was a stupid fight, and I cannot remember how it started. We’re quiet now, the both of us. I brought us to a nearby lilac field to watch the sunset. The sun disappeared ten minutes ago, and she still hasn’t spoken. Pursing my lips, I reach forward and gently grab the tips of her blond hair to French braid it. I rest my knee against her lower back to keep us close, yearning for her to say something, anything. I know this was my fault. “I’m sorry about yesterday, Liza.…