“Life is often just an interim between nightmares.” The comment from the young woman named Martha, no older than 20, took Joyce Butler, 32-year old retail office worker, by surprise as only routine small talk about life, in general, had preceded it. Yes, it being after midnight made it Oct. 31, Halloween, with the office decorated accordingly, but that didn’t mean glumness need be the prevailing mood. It made work more difficult and that’s why they were in the office at 1:45 AM on Halloween. They were there for work because it wasn’t 1950 anymore. It was 1984 and computers were the wave of the future and she, Joyce, being the youngest office worker with any real tenure, was the…

Ah, Ms. Smith, I presume! Welcome, welcome, please take a seat. You look stunning. What is that sweet aroma I smell, hmm? Lemon Glace? Vanilla Quartz? Oh…just soap, you say? Regardless, it suits you to a tee. We are overjoyed to have you here with us tonight. I believe we met over the, uh…job finders website, correct? Yes, yes, that site is a little…backstreet, compared to our establishment here, but alas, it is patrons without professions that we find we can cater to the most. I have what I understand to be your account here on the computer…KittenLover2004, correct? Wonderful. I see you are wearing the same shade of lipstick as in your profile picture! How exciting! Come now, there…

“You wanted to see us, Director Mason?” researcher Luna Valdez asked, her voice as composed as she could make it and her hands clasped politely behind her back, her seemingly ever-present security attaché Joseph Gromwell standing protectively at her side. Director Mason knew that if he ever put Luna in harm’s way, Joseph would be the one he’d be answering to. Oliver Mason had been running the Dreadfort Facility for as long as either Luna or Joseph could remember. He was supposedly over a hundred years old and served in World War Two, where he had allegedly killed a Nazi Warlock. Paranormal means of life extension were a well-known perk of the higher echelons of their organization, and Director Mason…

Chapter 7: Reputable Amongst the Worst   The ground was slowly taken out from under Requiem’s feet before he was yanked to the ceiling. He landed hard on his back with his arms splayed out. Little by little, all the rubble from the ground below did the same. Wrath’s body fell up landing directly on Requiem with the stone foundation below soon to follow.   Each stone that fell up broke away a part of the ceiling that was keeping Requiem from falling into the unknown behind him. Wrath was pummeled by stone after stone until the ceiling under Requiem ultimately cracked. The ceiling finally gave out beneath him, sending Requiem flipping into another abyss as he watched Wrath, and the debris…

“Where are my smoking glasses?” Elizabeth frowned at her father’s request, not having made it one step out of the stuffy, dust-layered hole that was their living room. This was her third attempt at leaving, and once more had the confused man called out for her in that all-too familiar way, voice heavy with contempt. It was the same loveless cadence she recognised from the 40-odd years they had lived in the house together, though the energy behind it was now weak and smouldering, like a fire in need of stoking. She took a moment to consider the question. First the blanket, then the ashtray, now this. It was true that her father had been a rather excessive smoker in…

I was elbow deep in a four-tab Acid trip when the Molly kicked in. Like a lightning strike straight to the Amygdala, it jolted my brain into vibrant overdrive. What had initially been little more than some crunchy vibes and cool visuals all of a sudden transformed into one of the craziest trips of my entire life. A trip that I was no way ready for. Now I am by no means a noob when it comes to hallucinogens. I have been tripping on anything and everything since I was in secondary school: mushrooms, Ketamine, DXM, DMT, LSD, PCP, THC, you name it. Hell, this wasn’t even my first time Candy Flipping. But it was the most Acid I had ever done in one sitting and some…

“I’m going blind,” I told my wife when we moved to our new gothic-style home in Griswold on a breezy day in early April. It was a wedding gift from my estranged father —a beautiful two-story structure with pointed arches, board-and-batten siding, large stained-glass windows, and a steep-pitched roof that gave the illusion of a medieval tower. Before my gradual onset of blindness, Samantha and I loved looking at homes from this era. Now, our beautiful new home was a blur, another milestone I couldn’t see. “I feel dizzy.” “You have contacts, silly,” Samantha said, lifting a small box from our SUV. “Of course you’re blind. You’d better sit down.  Hey…are you okay?” “You’re right. I need to sit down.”…

They were outcasts once, in the old days; The Silent Kings. That’s what all the old-timers heard from their old-timers, anyway. They were Sin Eaters. Mute Sin Eaters.  Mute from trauma, according to most. The three of them were brothers, orphaned together when they accidentally set their mother on fire. The legends don’t record the details of exactly how that went down, but the boys were so traumatized not just from witnessing their mother’s fiery demise, but also being the cause of it, that they never spoke again. No one spoke to them, either. They were pariahs after that. Accident or not, being responsible for the death of your own mother, especially in such a ghastly manner, will make people…

Chapter 6: Face of the Forgotten   He pressed forward with his claymore resting on his shoulder, leaving bloody footprints behind him. His feet regrew the muscles and skin with every step he took further into the labyrinth. Requiem walked through the labyrinth that took the shape of a dungeon. Every room he passed was vacant as he progressed through the torchless hallway that seemed to have no end.   He spent days walking through the hall into an eternal darkness that all stayed the same. The scent of grass filled his nostrils making Requiem stop in his tracks. He peered into one of the rooms next to him to see nothing, but empty stone coffins. Requiem then looked back in the…

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. I was driving my rig one night. I had a load I picked up in Texas and was bound for California. It was about 12:30 a.m. and I was a little tired, but I had to keep it going, at least to get to the next truck stop. I was rolling along I-10, passing through New Mexico. Now I don’t know what you know about New Mexico but there…

11:30 am. Dreary. Heartburn. Brain ache. Tired eyes giving way to a dull throbbing, but never drifting closed. We sat in silence around our monitors and typed, when suddenly, the office room silence was pierced by Lola’s break alarm. It blared its flat, electronic tone on repeat a few times until she stood up from her chair. “Which room would you like to visit today?” the hateable robot spoke, emerging from the ceiling. It was a black, spidery thing with a low-hanging body, capable of turning in any direction at will. With a short buzz, it flashed a kaleidoscope of Colour from its circular screen, brilliant blues mixing with vibrant greens and yellows. On and off they blinked, back and…

I – Summer On Vai I should have chosen speechlore, I thought as another gust of wind whipped snow under my hood. Folklore would have been an excellent choice as well. Perhaps mathematics, or meteorology. Only a few months ago, I had been more than content with my specialization. After several weeks in the frozen monotony of the Asundrian wilderness, however, even the history of Hishan arts struck me as far more appealing. My research intersected with a variety of disciplines, and Iluma Aator – the Serpentine Academy’s oldest and most prestigious house of learning – was renowned for its wealth of mentors in every field a scholar could ever want. I therefore found myself confronted with an almost impossible…

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…