You can’t help yourself anymore when you see the man in black Cold. One, simple, ever so small word. Or that’s what you can say, and lie about. That’s what I wake up to. That’s the same thing I wake up to every morning. The same gruesome cold I’m forced to live with, in my small, unassuming apartment. I’m the kind of guy some would consider “A waste of space.” Personally, that’s a little much. I’m the kind of guy to work low-paying jobs and night shifts at dingy beat down places, or just some not out of the ordinary fast food restaurant. Hey, who serves you that food you get at your favorite fast food restaurant? That low-life guy…

You don’t know me. But perhaps you know my voice. I’m a narrator. Specifically, I narrate horror stories online. I scour the internet with a raven’s eye, searching for gems buried amongst the thousands of short fiction stories posted to places like nosleep and Nightscribe. It’s a time-consuming task. Believe me, I’ve lost entire evenings descending deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole of the worst scenarios a human mind can imagine. There are more stories out there than a single person could read in a lifetime of lightless nights. I discard many: those that are too amateurish, too derivative, or that are churned out by AI. But if I keep searching, I am rewarded with something truly terrifying, or…

I stood alone on the deck of the “Research Vessel Nautilus”, staring out across the wide, endless expanse of the Pacific Ocean. It was a clear day, the kinda where the horizon blurs into the sky, making it hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. The gentle rocking of the ship below served as a momentary anchor for the whirlwind of emotions inside. I’m about to dive into the Mariana Trench, the deepest ocean in the world. The depth is such that Everest could fit inside and still have room left. As a marine biologist, this is, undoubtedly, the peak of my life’s work – a chance to descend over 36,000 feet into an area still largely…

I jumped and dropped my paint brush when I heard the front door slam shut. My nerves were immediately settled when I heard the familiar voice of my husband. “I’m home!” My painting could wait. I smiled and made a beeline to the front door. He wasn’t supposed to be back from his work trip till tomorrow. “You usually text me when you’re getting home early,” I commented as I went in for a hug. “I lost my phone. I’ll have to go get a new one tomorrow,” he replied. I let out a chuckle. I was usually the one losing things in our relationship. “Sounds like I’m rubbing off on you,” I said as I grabbed his suit collar…

I know you’re probably wondering why the hell I’m telling you this. I should have kept my mouth shut, should’ve stayed quiet like everyone else does when they’ve seen something they shouldn’t have. People do it for all sorts of reasons. Some are too scared to talk, afraid that speaking out might invite whatever it is they saw back into their lives. Others stay silent because they can’t put the pieces together, can’t explain what happened, and the fear of not being believed is worse than carrying the memory alone. Then there are those who simply think it’s better to leave the past buried, as if ignoring it will make it go away. The problem is, once you’ve seen something…

There is a fresh, blank page sitting in front of me, and as I stare at it it seems to stare back. ‘It’s always so hard to get started’, I think. ‘I just wish I could get over the hump without climbing the hill. I feel like Sisyphus, every time I think I’ve gotten to the peak I roll back down to the start.’ I put my pen to the pristine white page and pause. Thinking. Agonizing over what sort of approach I will take this time. Will I be too eager? Will I lose interest? Is it going to be long enough, short enough, authentic or intelligent enough? Black ink has begun to pool where the pen’s tip is still pressed…

Chapter 4: The Cry for Fairness   The violent vibrations of the wails caused a portion of the wall to crumble, revealing a passage hidden behind it. The violet viscous oozed into the neighboring area as a breeze of air hit him with a refreshing touch. Requiem rested his claymore against his shoulder to continue his journey through the labyrinth. He lurched through the sludge to the next passage that was a skywalk. There were eight windows along both sides with an iron rod gate on the other end.   Requiem walked onto the middle of the skywalk taking in the scenery. He peered over each side of the skywalk to see if the tower had moved. The sun was setting over…

For all readers… Hello there! If you’re reading this, you’re one of us-fellow survivors. You know what happened; our world has changed drastically. Unless you’ve been tucked away in a bunker this whole time, you’ve experienced it too. This book is my account of the apocalypse, as many have come to call it. It’s dedicated to all who have made it through, those who’ve come after us, those who’ve lost their lives, and everyone in between. I’ll be marking the days as “days since the apocalypse” because, honestly, I’ve kind of lost track of time. Day 32 Well, hello. I’m recounting my memories as Spring comes, and I’m glad of it. It’s been a month since this all came down.…

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. Let me tell you, it’s not the most exciting job in the world. It’s like pulling weeds in your garden: it’s a pain in the ass, and you never see the end of it. For every tag removed, three new ones appear the next day. Clearly, we can’t keep up with these tagging bastards. Despite this, cities continue to…

‘Hey, girly! I’ve decided to start selling cosmetics.’ I groaned as I read the text message. When a girl you haven’t spoken to since high school, Kimmy in this case, sends you a message like that, it means they’re trying sell you on some MLM BS. My phone buzzed again, and despite my better judgement, I checked it and braced myself to read the words ‘boss babe’. Instead, I was surprised at what I read. ‘I need help figuring out my formulations for my products before I can take them to market, and I would love it if you would test some out. They’ll be free product in it for you!’ I was immediately intrigued. Kimmy had always been a…

The game was almost over, but things didn’t get easier. I knew that the Rot wouldn’t let me win this. I had to plan ahead. I could tell that judging from the last 2, the final candles would both be in one of the main areas of the park: the circus, and the rides in the center of the grounds. I checked my map, looking to see which was closest, and from what I could tell, I was just between the two areas, between whichever hell I would suffer through first. I peeked my head out of the door of the shack, which I had opened a few minutes earlier to let the light in, and carefully weighed my options.…

TAG…YOU’RE IT!! The Graveyard Game Ten people. Ten people in ten different places,  doing ten different things. But all sharing one single thought… “What if it really works?” It seems an unwritten rule in tiny little spit shot towns all across the country that each has it’s own tall tales and legends of old, whispered through the ages and shared from one generation to the next, just as it has been since the beginning of time and as it will continue to be. This is simply the version of one of those tall tales and legends as it’s known here in our little town. You see, in the little town of Sawnhurst, California, there is an age old tradition tied…

I began my career at the military institute for applied physics, of which nation I am not at liberty to tell you. My role was as a junior research engineer at the lasers and optics department, primarily tasked with equipment maintenance, calibration, embedded programming of makeshift equipment, and procurement for a high-priority research project with long-term funding. In truth, it was an amazing workplace. I’ve always been fascinated by the physics of light, and working in a top of the line research institute with some of the most advanced technology available at the time was thrilling, to say the least. At the time when these events took place, we were working on encoding data into a quartz matrix using high-powered…

Paramedics are incredibly superstitious. It’s surprising how much people will argue with me about this simple fact. “Oh, definitely not. They’re too reasonable, too smart, too calm in a crisis to engage with something as irrational as superstitions.” Some will even fight with me about it, for an absurd amount of time. As if I wouldn’t know. Me! An EMT myself, four generations of emergency medical professionals in my family, with both of my parents working for decades as paramedics, and a long list of other relatives that work either in the hospital or in an ambulance. And they think I wouldn’t know! It’s never a matter of source, though. They don’t doubt for a second that I know what…

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. You won’t see or feel these creatures take you from this world. I don’t even know why they do.  They just exist to do whatever they so choose from what I’ve gathered over the years. It all started when I…

A hallway that never ends. Picture this. Life is great. Ten years old. Ten years of your life have been on earth. Ten years. On my tenth birthday, I got the worst birthday gift. I fell asleep that night, the night of my tenth birthday. I had gotten great gifts, and I was exhausted. The moment I woke up, however, I was in a completely different place. Laying on the ground, I slowly gained consciousness. The room was gray with dim light, and by me was a crumpled sheet of paper. I opened it, and there were the rules. The list of rules that have kept me alive this long. Currently, I’m fourteen. Four years I have relied on these…

I’m usually a ‘take things slow’ kind of girl, but there was something about her in the bar that night. I was sitting at a table in the back, watching my friends’ coats and purses while they were out on the dance floor. This was my usual role, and I suspected it was the only reason they still invited me out. One second, I was cringing at the bitter taste of my drink, and in the blink of an eye, she was right in front of me, smiling brightly. Despite the little shock her sudden presence gave me, her dark green eyes had me fixated immediately. “Van Gogh!” she said enthusiastically. I blinked twice. “What?” I asked, feeling confused, but…

Sol 5111 A voice awakens me to darkness. Terrifying darkness. The voice is concerned. Concerned about my well-being. Who am I? Who is the voice? Whoever it is must be a friend. Why else would they be worried? Yes, they must be a friend. It is a kind voice. But what is it worried about? Why is it dark? It must be a storm. Yes, it must be a storm. I am cold. So very cold. The voice tells me to check my heater. Vaguely, I can make out my old, weathered body. There’s the heater, but it’s broken. The air is cold. This cold… it makes me feel tired. I want to sleep. I want the voice to tell…

I wandered through the stalls a bit, trying to use my map to figure out where I was, and the quickest way to get to the lake. The way I saw it, I wouldn’t have to struggle as much to put the candle out since it would already be surrounded by water, but first, I’d have to actually navigate my way to the lake. After a few hours worth of figuring out where exactly in the park I was, I began my trek to the lake. Usually, a walk like this would take hours back when the park was open, especially because of the crowds. Not to say it was popular, it was just that the park wasn’t really designed…

They kept sending us money, that was the problem. Even after the drugs which made your mind spiral into rainbow hell, and the noxious smelling salts, and the obscure rituals, they never cut funding. Even when we got desperate, they still kept pumping in the surplus of our good taxpayers. It wasn’t just money either, they kept us in good stock of all sorts. This included the drugs, obviously, alongside the sleek and sinister machines, chrome-plated man-made horrors. They kept us in good stock of all sorts of horrible things, yes, but arguably the worst things they kept sending us were the kids. More hypersensitive and/or strange children from all over the country than you can shake a menacing middle-school…