My stomach rumbled as we approached the edge of the woods. It was nearly midday, but I hadn’t eaten in hours. Supply troubles and nerves had left me with little food and next to no appetite. A combination that was less than ideal heading into my first taste of combat.   Pa always told me war was nothing like the heroic tales I read about when I was young. He had fought in the Battle of Bad Axe back in ’32 and said that he had lost a piece of himself somewhere in those Wisconsin woods. A piece of himself that he knew he would never get back. But despite his many warnings I enlisted in the army anyways. Being the…

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 moved forwards, moving closer to the tent. but then I stopped. Looking closely, lying on top of one of the crates, was a rusted, old…

People who have never had to do it seem to think it’s unfortunate to have to work in a diner. I didn’t think so when I worked there. At least it wasn’t unfortunate at first. I had a lot of fun working there because the people I worked with were great and our customers were very nice. It’s a small town, so usually the people are pretty nice compared to the city folk who stop in from time to time. I would say it was one of the most enjoyable jobs I have had, but that sentiment only carried up to the point where it became a nightmare. The owner of the Diner was Dave Madison. He was also the…

Every school has their little weirdos. Some more than others, but us weirdos gotta stick together. Back in the fifth grade my buddy Tim got a lot of shit. Not like the kid dressed weird or anything, but he was just the kid that had a target on his back. We’d be out in the field flying around in space ships or fighting off a mob of samurai. He was the best at playing swords and stuff though. The kids never messed with me though. Only him for whatever reason. Tim was my boy though. We looked after each other. Well, mostly me looking out for him, but someone had to. Most of the kids couldn’t understand why I was…

There was a new payphone in town, at least if you believe what some anonymous conspiracy theorist had posted on the internet. Someone on the local paranormal forum had posted photos of a payphone which, to be fair, was in fairly decent condition, and they had insisted it had been installed recently. More likely than not, it had been there for decades, and neither the poster nor anyone else had noticed it until recently. I’m pretty sure the only people who pay those things any mind anymore are kids who genuinely don’t know what they are or what they’re for. But the poster remained quite adamant that this particular payphone was a new addition, his only evidence being some low-resolution…

Demons Of Various Description Ever since the caravan had reached the Unamur Mountains, the climate had become as irksome as the company I kept. Every day, a disgusting heat came with sunrise. Cool days were also rare in Dishare, therefore I hadn’t expected it would bother me when I set out on this journey. However, I soon learned that the mountainous stretch of the Cursed Road was plagued by a different kind of heat; dry and draining. The silken canopy of my palanquin could as well not have been there as the little shade it provided did nothing to alleviate the sensation of being burned alive. The mere act of breathing was akin to sucking sand into my lungs, and…

As I sat on my couch watching a movie on the television, I found it difficult to concentrate. The noisy neighbors upstairs were at it again. I’m not sure exactly what they were doing, whether they were moving furniture, playing football, or tag. Who knows? All I know is that it was a considerable amount of noise and it needed to stop. My roommate mini came out of her room, frustrated, “Uggh!” she exclaimed, “They’re at it again?” “Yup,” I said, rolling my eyes and pursing my lips like an attempt to show my disdain for the man-made thunder we were again experiencing for the third time today. “I really want to go up there and tell those fuckers off!”…

Deep in the core of a dull, lightless city, a man sat alone by a fire. He didn’t know how long the world had been like this, he didn’t remember what it was like before, He only knew that he woke up to this one day. From what he could remember, Just faintly in the back of his mind, the world used to be filled with other people, other faces, but after days of wandering, months of searching, there was no familiar face to see. For now, the only company he had was the fire, and a few cans of beans to dip stale crackers in. From what he could tell, the world had been like this for centuries, at…

Chapter 5: Devoured by the Sands of Time   Requiem rested his claymore against his shoulder before walking over to the crumbled beast. He scanned the chamber to see a vast emptiness accompanied by the mountain of corpses and himself. Requiem turned to the mountain seeing it was his only path.   He spent days climbing the mountain of bodies with the hope of seeing something from the top he had failed to notice before. He scanned the chamber once again from the top until he felt the bodies under him start to slide down. Requiem staggered on the top of the mountain trying to catch his footing, but the bodies were being sucked in straight down the center of the corpse…

When you own and run a gas station out in the middle of nowhere, you’ll often meet more than your fair share of oddballs. Nobody ever travels to little towns like mine, just through them, our paths only crossing out of sheer necessity and circumstance. For most folk, my gas station is what the internet likes to call a ‘liminal space’; a transitional zone that becomes creepy when you dwell in it for too long. But for me, it’s the exact opposite. My gas station’s an anchor against the backdrop of transients constantly coming in and out of my life, and they’re the ones who start to get creepy when they overstay their welcome. While I do get a decent…

This story happened to me, my best friend, Alya, and one of our friends, Dylan. Please note that every name used here, including mine, is fake. They are made-up names to protect the real people. It was our senior year of high school. Alya and I had two classes out of four together. During our second block, Mrs. Cartier, our gym coach, had the class outside on the track and football field. Alya and I went back inside the classroom to get our water bottles when Dylan walked into the classroom. He stopped in the doorway as me and Alya took our water bottles and sat down on the old lounge couch in the back of the classroom. “May I…

There is a legend that few people know about. If you stand in front of the mirror, in the dark, with a single candle lit, and issue the call, “Here piggy, piggy, piggy.” The big man will appear. When the pig man appears, you must remain absolutely still, or the pig man will devour you in minutes. This was the story told to me by my older brother who claimed he’d done this and survived. I was ten years old at the time. I can’t say that I believed him, and yet, I can’t say, fully, that I didn’t. It was a really hard story to believe but then, there were stranger stories that turned out to be the absolute…

In hindsight, this story is pretty embarrassing but hear me out. It’s not easy being the new kid who just moved to town in the middle of the school year. It didn’t help that this place was practically the middle of nowhere, the only restaurants being a mom and pop diner and a Taco Bell that was attached to a gas station. I nearly cried when I looked up how far away the nearest music venue was; an hour and a half, and they only showcased country bands.  I’ve never had a knack for fitting in, and I knew my alternative interests weren’t going to do me any favors when it came fitting in with my new environment. I quickly…

‘Tom went mad,’ Gilbert said. ‘Schizophrenia or something, I think. He stopped leaving the place completely. After a month of being pent up inside he died of starvation.’ ‘He was a hoarder. A serious one. It took weeks to get the home cleaned up, and even then there’s still some junk in the basement the cleaners left there. I’d be curious to have a look and see if there’s anything valuable.’ He snorted. ‘I doubt it though.’ I sorted through what remained of the clutter and determined most of it to be worthless. There were shelves full of dusty tools and stacks of used furniture. Shoved up against the wall was a large mattress with dirty, stained sheets and old…

“Gabriel! Gabriel!” I screamed. “Who is Gabriel?” the police officer in front of me asked. I was in the police station’s interrogation room. My neighbors called the cops on me, saying that I “went crazy” and that there was “an insane lunatic running down the street in a t-rex onesie, screaming ‘Gabriel!’” The cops showed up, handcuffed me for “public disturbance,” and put me in the back of the cop car. “Answer the question, Spencer!” the officer yelled at me. “Gabriel! Gabriel! His name is Gabriel!” I yelled over and over again, screaming constantly. The officer thought I was going to tear my vocal cords from me screaming so much. “WHO IN THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF CRAYOLA IS GABRIEL?!?!” the…

His death was painfully slow. So slow, in fact, that he could see every single speck of his killer’s features, as his eyes slowly started to become blurry. His brother’s eyes. The colour of dark, dark coal. His friend’s hair. The colour of a warm, dark brown layered with what he could have described as light browns here and there. His killer’s lips. A pale rose tinted colour. The fact that those lips had folded back into a grin while his killer laughed maniacally had made him cry. Cry for his mother, his father, for someone to help him. The sad part is, his life was over and he could do nothing about it. Christopher Park stared down at his…

Hello, Mother, I feel like tonight may be my last in these trenches, for better or worse. Last night the enemy pushed us back to the perimeter of the town we’ve been defending for the past three months. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how much longer we can hold out for. Reinforcements and supplies are two to three days out, I have two insta-chow syringes left and three and a half magazines to hold me through the next few nights. We have about two more hours of sunlight left. I’ll be sure to give the mail carrier this letter before it heads back to command. I just need to be honest with you. Don’t get me wrong, I love you very…

It was a dark, foggy night, as it really should be whenever something eerie happens. I was walking from my dad’s house over to my mom’s. I’d had a fight with my dad about something, the topic of which I’ve since forgotten, and realized at 17 years old that I was old enough and capable enough to walk alone back to my mom’s house, instead of stewing in my room at dad’s. Besides, both of my sisters were asleep already, so I wasn’t worried about them not getting their homework done or needing help with dinner. No, my self-appointed duties were done for the evening, and the only thing that stood in between me and the relative freedom of my…

Aside from the slow and steady hoof-falls of the large draft horses against the ancient stone road, or the continuous creaking of the nearly-as-ancient caravan wagon’s wheels, Horace was sure he couldn’t hear anything at all. In the fading autumn light, all he could see for miles around were the silhouettes of enormous petrified trees, having stood dead now for centuries but still refusing to fall. Their bark had turned an unnatural and oddly lustrous black, one that seemed almost liquid as it glistened in whatever light happened to gleam off its surface. They seemed more like geysers of oil that had burst forth from the Earth only to freeze in place before a single drop could fall back to…

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…