#creatures

Sitting in the back seat of a station wagon, two sisters, ages 6 and 8 start bickering. One won't scoot over, the other is making annoying sounds. Typical car ride for this family. The parents up front try ignoring the children, but soon enough it gets to be too intolerable. "Girls, be quiet and look out your windows." Snapped their mom.

I know I shouldn't have this written down. But I have to warn the world. My only fear is that other's will be curious instead of fearful. Ever see something in the corner of your eye and look at it, only to find that no matter how quick you look it's not there? Well, I saw it. And trust me when I tell you this, you do not want to see it.

To whoever receives this letter, these are the final words of me, Cynthia J. Hill. They will sound like the ramblings of a mad woman, but I swear I am and have been of sound mind. It happened something like this:

Sweat trickles down my forehead; I don't bother to wipe it away, and my eyes sting from staring at the monitor screen for far too long. The office room I had rented for the short amount of time I'm living in this city was cluttered, and the mess almost filled to the maximum capacity of the room--files and recording tapes everywhere. Stacks of loose paper and documents threatened to topple and create more disarray in the ridiculously small room. But my busy mind was focused on the bright screen:…

Testimonial & Description: “I hate to close my eyes. I hate sleeping, and I even hate to blink. The split second that each blink occupies is still long enough to see it. I can still see that shadowed face attached to that sickly body as it motioned for me to close my eyes”. – Written by Anonymous, 2005 Description:

Hear me out. I don't plan to stay here long. One way or another, this place won't hold me. Yeah, sure - I know 'they all' say that. But trust me - I'm different. No, that's not right - I'm probably bog-standard, but the circumstances are different. And the circumstances are going to make things a little difficult. Unless I tell someone - even if I tell someone.

In the summer of 1996, the town of Newport Bay was struck by an odd and gristly phenomenon. Earlier that year, the employees of a small animal shelter had been found mauled and eaten, by what appeared to be a rather large animal. The location and severity of the wounds added to the already powerful feelings of dread, fear and paranoia the residents were experiencing. Being eaten alive is often thought to be one of the worst ways to go, and while everyone has their own opinions on the worst ways…

Ever since I was little, I knew there was something wrong about the storm drains that lined my road. They were stealthy and silent. However, there was always the thought that if I listened long enough I may hear something begin to whisper. I never lingered long enough to hear though, because I was terrified. I could hardly stand to walk across them. Most of the time I would keep a long space between the eerie enigma and myself.

The black light in my hand told me things I should have never known, word by word over a month’s grim fascination.

-Breaking News – July 27, 2013- A third murder occurs at a luxury hotel just outside of Las Vegas, Nevada. The victims where a mother and her alleged son, little information is known about either of them, or the murderer at this time. Police will continue investigation while the hotel remains open for business. The only sure thing that has been publicly announced was a statement from a house detective staying in the hotel at the time, he said:

I live in a pretty small, relatively unknown town. This is the internet, so I won’t divulge too much information but I will tell you it’s in southern Wisconsin. I live on the corner of Lawn and Elm Street, and pretty near to my house is a stretch of road that most people called “Mirror Avenue”. Of course it’s not really technically an avenue, just an extension of Lawn Street, and it’s not the whole road, just a short stretch within the block adjacent to the one my house is on. I’ve lived here…

It is said that in the times of the Romans, there was a mighty general who was abandoned by his cowardly men in the midst of a great battle. In death, the general swore vengeance on those who had abandoned him. He was granted this when a dark goddess allowed him to return to the land of the living as a vengeful spirit. His sole purpose was to get revenge on those who had wronged him.

Today was like most days, I woke up around two in the afternoon and got on my computer. I was abnormally happy today as everything seemed to be perfect. Oddly enough, I didn’t remember waking up this morning, but I didn’t care. I didn’t have anything that had to be done, didn’t have any chores, nothing. It was paradise. I could have sworn it was a dream. I occasionally pinched myself thinking that I would wake up, but I didn’t, so I continued on with my day.

I was walking down an abandoned, dirt road in the middle of a small town that I did not recognise. I was alone; literally, there was no one in sight. I looked at the house I was walking by, the only house on the street. It was old and the dark grey paint was faded into more of an off white colour. The windows were covered in dust and chipped at the edges, behind them were some ripped, faded yellow curtains hanging. Only one of the windows was missing a curtain, the top left window to be exact.…

So, three friends and I decided we were going to camp out in this 30 acre sanctuary down the street from my neighborhood. It’s paralleled by railroad tracks and a road on one side, and then a small road on the other said. There’s a lot of forest and trails, but also these big sand dunes and a huge lake that is pretty deep. So deep we can’t see the bottom. And in Florida there’s always shit to worry about like mosquitoes at night and spider webs along the wooded paths. Snakes thankfully left us…

It was another cold night that night. I remember it vividly. Mostly due to the fact that out here you have to be alert at all times. My name is Sergeant Johnson, and at the time I was deployed at a remote outpost in the Warduj Valley. This valley is known for its high level of insurgent activity in the Warduj District, Badakhshan Province, Afghanistan. I was deployed for seven months, and I have to say the toughest thing, other than the usual rocket attacks, was missing my new wife back home.…

Growing up, no one had ever believe me. I knew it was out there; watching. Lurking. I could feel its eyes rest upon me like weights as I took to my daily on-foot adventures to and from various stores and school. But no one ever believed me. They thought since I was a kid, that I was just being irrational. They thought I was hysterical to believe in such a far-fetched, outlandish being. Hell, for a good portion of my life, I thought I was crazy. That was, until I had my first encounter with it.

I don't want it. It needs to get out of my house. I thought it was gone. I had never been so wrong.

James had just moved to upstate New York and he knew no one except for a few flaky work associates. One night during a January blizzard, he heard a faint “meow” emanating from the nearby alleyway adjacent his apartment. He ventured into the snowstorm and found a half frozen, gaunt kitten in the alley next to his apartment.

In 1347 the Black Plague had reached it’s peak. Across Europe thousands perished as this vile disease, festered in pestilence, showered the landscape with death. No one rich or poor, nor learned or simple, nor strong or weak were spare from it’s putrid touch. In the inner cities, so many had been wiped out that there wasn’t enough room to bury them all. Mass graves had become common as well as the unfortunate souls who had to collect the corpses. One such a man was Phillipe Deitre and this is…