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. My hopes are dashed as the car slows to a stop, the engine fading to silence. The youngest one, the boy, gets out and hurries to the front door. “No need to rush,” the father proclaims as he strolls outwards in a warm winter coat, his fingers escaping the clamp of the slammed car door behind him. Out comes…

“What’s up with her, Sammy?” Steven grunted, puffing on his half-burned cigarette. It was early morning, the rising sun cresting the horizon and engulfing the gaps of the forest with its light. Slowly but surely, the day’s warmth was chasing away the nightly spring air, the tree leaves illuminated in their gorgeous, silky green. All seemed right as Steven absent-mindedly tapped a chunk of ash onto the ground, leaning over the edge of the cabin balcony. From across the sparkling river that curled past their remote home sat a single bear, reclined against a thick tree trunk. “Oh, that’s Suzy!” Samantha cooed as she hurried outside in her dressing gown, joining her husband at his side. “Funny name for a…

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…

My parents live up North, and so every Christmas my drive to their house is defined by a lot of grey, brown and white, as well as bitter cold. Never liked the cold. I spent the first 18 years of my life in it, so I think I definitely have an educated opinion on it. I don’t like the passionless white-skied coldness, or the stark freeze of the deep dark night where you can see your breath billowing out from you like a smokestack, and I especially don’t like when the sky is a deceptive bright blue and all sunny, the rippled clouds all golden and hazy purple, and you go outside thinking it’ll be warm and it’s still fucking…

The first time I visited the Otherworld was when I was eleven. One moment I’d been having some peaceful dream I hardly remember, and the next, I was shooting up in bed with a gasp. I pulled my blanket tighter around myself as I looked around uneasily. Something was wrong. The sensation of wrongness was the first thing I remember feeling. The reasons why I felt so became clearer as I took time to look around. My room was far too dark and gloomy. My lava lamp was gone. The posters on my walls were missing. My pair of crammed bookshelves were filled with unfamiliar and disarranged books. Half the stuff on my bedside table was gone; brushes, toys, the…

Introduction For most people, the art of programming is to fill desires left unaccomplished in reality. For some, it is to pay their bills in an effort to have a home. And for others, it may not be so heart-warming and wholesome most of the time. It may be to sacrifice. To reawaken. To find. 1995, Lubbock, Texas – Sal Perez, an ordinary man living in the hot summers of ‘The Lone Star State,’ was a Graphic Designer who strived to work with the company MIT, a programming organization responsible for the latest digital craze, “SUNKISS.” The SUNKISS disk, released in 1995, was a groundbreaking piece of software that quickly became a digital sensation due to its innovative design and…

Chapter 1: Lost and Found In the murky confines of the Slums, a stray cat and its drone companion, B-12, scuttled along the endless expanse of labyrinthine alleys, the drone’s light casting an eerie glow on the moss-ridden walls and dilapidated machinery. The cat, a feline anomaly in this mechanical world, surveyed their surroundings with gleaming eyes, ears perked to the distant hum of rusted gears and sputtering engines. B-12, his thrusters operating on silent, ensured they remained undetected by the wandering robotic populace. Chapter 1: Lost and Found Their explorations led them to a pitiful sight. Half-buried under rubble, a Companion Robot, Vexa, lay immobilized, her metallic legs crushed under the weight of fallen debris. She pleaded for aid,…

The following document is from a journal found in an abandoned mental facility. Please note that the probability that any of this is real is low, and most likely the result of the patient’s broken mind. I doubt anyone will believe me, I doubt any of you who might have stumbled upon this will even care afterwards. This is my story. I’m writing this down because somehow that thing got in here. I don’t know how much time I have, maybe an hour, maybe a few seconds before it breaks the door down. It all started the day I bought my first house. I had lived in apartments and flats, but never owned a place of my own. It was…

My dog has always been kind of overexcited, running up and down the corridor, jumping all over our guests, relentlessly barking, and so on. I’m aware it’s probably my fault for not being strict enough and encouraging this type of behaviour when he was a puppy. However, over the past few days, he has been very quiet. A bit too quiet. He’s always hiding under the bed or behind the curtains, and sometimes, he even tries to hide under our linens, which is unusual since he’s never been allowed on the bed. Up until today, I just shrugged it off. It was peaceful not having him running about all the time, but right now, he won’t come out from under a few…

The following document is from a journal found in an abandoned mental facility. Please note that the probability that any of this is real is low, and most likely the result of the patient’s broken mind. I doubt anyone will believe me, I doubt any of you who might have stumbled upon this will even care afterwards. This is my story. I’m writing this down because somehow that thing got in here. I don’t know how much time I have, maybe an hour, maybe a few seconds before it breaks the door down. It all started the day I bought my first house. I had lived in apartments and flats, but never owned a place of my own. It was…

Chapter 1: Lost and Found In the murky confines of the Slums, a stray cat and its drone companion, B-12, scuttled along the endless expanse of labyrinthine alleys, the drone’s light casting an eerie glow on the moss-ridden walls and dilapidated machinery. The cat, a feline anomaly in this mechanical world, surveyed their surroundings with gleaming eyes, ears perked to the distant hum of rusted gears and sputtering engines. B-12, his thrusters operating on silent, ensured they remained undetected by the wandering robotic populace. Chapter 1: Lost and Found Their explorations led them to a pitiful sight. Half-buried under rubble, a Companion Robot, Vexa, lay immobilized, her metallic legs crushed under the weight of fallen debris. She pleaded for aid,…

My dog has always been kind of overexcited, running up and down the corridor, jumping all over our guests, relentlessly barking, and so on. I’m aware it’s probably my fault for not being strict enough and encouraging this type of behaviour when he was a puppy. However, over the past few days, he has been very quiet. A bit too quiet. He’s always hiding under the bed or behind the curtains, and sometimes, he even tries to hide under our linens, which is unusual since he’s never been allowed on the bed. Up until today, I just shrugged it off. It was peaceful not having him running about all the time, but right now, he won’t come out from under a few…

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…

My parents live up North, and so every Christmas my drive to their house is defined by a lot of grey, brown and white, as well as bitter cold. Never liked the cold. I spent the first 18 years of my life in it, so I think I definitely have an educated opinion on it. I don’t like the passionless white-skied coldness, or the stark freeze of the deep dark night where you can see your breath billowing out from you like a smokestack, and I especially don’t like when the sky is a deceptive bright blue and all sunny, the rippled clouds all golden and hazy purple, and you go outside thinking it’ll be warm and it’s still fucking…

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. My hopes are dashed as the car slows to a stop, the engine fading to silence. The youngest one, the boy, gets out and hurries to the front door. “No need to rush,” the father proclaims as he strolls outwards in a warm winter coat, his fingers escaping the clamp of the slammed car door behind him. Out comes…

Introduction For most people, the art of programming is to fill desires left unaccomplished in reality. For some, it is to pay their bills in an effort to have a home. And for others, it may not be so heart-warming and wholesome most of the time. It may be to sacrifice. To reawaken. To find. 1995, Lubbock, Texas – Sal Perez, an ordinary man living in the hot summers of ‘The Lone Star State,’ was a Graphic Designer who strived to work with the company MIT, a programming organization responsible for the latest digital craze, “SUNKISS.” The SUNKISS disk, released in 1995, was a groundbreaking piece of software that quickly became a digital sensation due to its innovative design and…

“What’s up with her, Sammy?” Steven grunted, puffing on his half-burned cigarette. It was early morning, the rising sun cresting the horizon and engulfing the gaps of the forest with its light. Slowly but surely, the day’s warmth was chasing away the nightly spring air, the tree leaves illuminated in their gorgeous, silky green. All seemed right as Steven absent-mindedly tapped a chunk of ash onto the ground, leaning over the edge of the cabin balcony. From across the sparkling river that curled past their remote home sat a single bear, reclined against a thick tree trunk. “Oh, that’s Suzy!” Samantha cooed as she hurried outside in her dressing gown, joining her husband at his side. “Funny name for a…

The first time I visited the Otherworld was when I was eleven. One moment I’d been having some peaceful dream I hardly remember, and the next, I was shooting up in bed with a gasp. I pulled my blanket tighter around myself as I looked around uneasily. Something was wrong. The sensation of wrongness was the first thing I remember feeling. The reasons why I felt so became clearer as I took time to look around. My room was far too dark and gloomy. My lava lamp was gone. The posters on my walls were missing. My pair of crammed bookshelves were filled with unfamiliar and disarranged books. Half the stuff on my bedside table was gone; brushes, toys, the…

The following document is from a journal found in an abandoned mental facility. Please note that the probability that any of this is real is low, and most likely the result of the patient’s broken mind. I doubt anyone will believe me, I doubt any of you who might have stumbled upon this will even care afterwards. This is my story. I’m writing this down because somehow that thing got in here. I don’t know how much time I have, maybe an hour, maybe a few seconds before it breaks the door down. It all started the day I bought my first house. I had lived in apartments and flats, but never owned a place of my own. It was…

My dog has always been kind of overexcited, running up and down the corridor, jumping all over our guests, relentlessly barking, and so on. I’m aware it’s probably my fault for not being strict enough and encouraging this type of behaviour when he was a puppy. However, over the past few days, he has been very quiet. A bit too quiet. He’s always hiding under the bed or behind the curtains, and sometimes, he even tries to hide under our linens, which is unusual since he’s never been allowed on the bed. Up until today, I just shrugged it off. It was peaceful not having him running about all the time, but right now, he won’t come out from under a few…

Chapter 1: Lost and Found In the murky confines of the Slums, a stray cat and its drone companion, B-12, scuttled along the endless expanse of labyrinthine alleys, the drone’s light casting an eerie glow on the moss-ridden walls and dilapidated machinery. The cat, a feline anomaly in this mechanical world, surveyed their surroundings with gleaming eyes, ears perked to the distant hum of rusted gears and sputtering engines. B-12, his thrusters operating on silent, ensured they remained undetected by the wandering robotic populace. Chapter 1: Lost and Found Their explorations led them to a pitiful sight. Half-buried under rubble, a Companion Robot, Vexa, lay immobilized, her metallic legs crushed under the weight of fallen debris. She pleaded for aid,…

The first time I visited the Otherworld was when I was eleven. One moment I’d been having some peaceful dream I hardly remember, and the next, I was shooting up in bed with a gasp. I pulled my blanket tighter around myself as I looked around uneasily. Something was wrong. The sensation of wrongness was the first thing I remember feeling. The reasons why I felt so became clearer as I took time to look around. My room was far too dark and gloomy. My lava lamp was gone. The posters on my walls were missing. My pair of crammed bookshelves were filled with unfamiliar and disarranged books. Half the stuff on my bedside table was gone; brushes, toys, the…

My parents live up North, and so every Christmas my drive to their house is defined by a lot of grey, brown and white, as well as bitter cold. Never liked the cold. I spent the first 18 years of my life in it, so I think I definitely have an educated opinion on it. I don’t like the passionless white-skied coldness, or the stark freeze of the deep dark night where you can see your breath billowing out from you like a smokestack, and I especially don’t like when the sky is a deceptive bright blue and all sunny, the rippled clouds all golden and hazy purple, and you go outside thinking it’ll be warm and it’s still fucking…

Introduction For most people, the art of programming is to fill desires left unaccomplished in reality. For some, it is to pay their bills in an effort to have a home. And for others, it may not be so heart-warming and wholesome most of the time. It may be to sacrifice. To reawaken. To find. 1995, Lubbock, Texas – Sal Perez, an ordinary man living in the hot summers of ‘The Lone Star State,’ was a Graphic Designer who strived to work with the company MIT, a programming organization responsible for the latest digital craze, “SUNKISS.” The SUNKISS disk, released in 1995, was a groundbreaking piece of software that quickly became a digital sensation due to its innovative design and…

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…

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. My hopes are dashed as the car slows to a stop, the engine fading to silence. The youngest one, the boy, gets out and hurries to the front door. “No need to rush,” the father proclaims as he strolls outwards in a warm winter coat, his fingers escaping the clamp of the slammed car door behind him. Out comes…

“What’s up with her, Sammy?” Steven grunted, puffing on his half-burned cigarette. It was early morning, the rising sun cresting the horizon and engulfing the gaps of the forest with its light. Slowly but surely, the day’s warmth was chasing away the nightly spring air, the tree leaves illuminated in their gorgeous, silky green. All seemed right as Steven absent-mindedly tapped a chunk of ash onto the ground, leaning over the edge of the cabin balcony. From across the sparkling river that curled past their remote home sat a single bear, reclined against a thick tree trunk. “Oh, that’s Suzy!” Samantha cooed as she hurried outside in her dressing gown, joining her husband at his side. “Funny name for a…