#creatures

While it is known by some that I have a keen interest in the uncanny - seeking it out on occasion - nevertheless it proved a decidedly unsettling experience to find such a strange event taking place just a few feet from my front door.

For the tenth time that day, Lucy's phone rang. She knew that, because she had been counting. And for the tenth time that day, Lucy ignored the shrill sounds of the phone. She didn't much care for it, it was if anything annoying and too persistent for her taste. What she had learned, was that persistence got you killed. Much like curiosity. And she would be giving into both those things if she were foolish enough to answer the phone.

The demon looked much as I expected it to. Standing at roughly twice my height, its skin was cracked and burnt as if it had been pressurized under heat high enough to charbroil humans and strong enough to snap metals like twigs. Though hunched over, its vestigial wings flapped futilely as it threw itself against the barrier of table salt I'd scattered around it - all eight of its compound eyes blinking in confusion, and finally - understanding.

There are times within a person’s life when they will curse the limitations of their own human body. While it can perform many actions there are moments when it is simply not enough. Have you ever tried to swim underwater for long periods of time? Perhaps you have been beaten senselessly by a hulking bully. It could be that you are late to your destination.

Often when my wife and I go to bed at night our dog ends up sharing the bed with us as well. He is a black dog that weighs about 100 pounds so you can imagine that he takes up a good portion of the bed at night when he decides that he wants to sleep with us. Since we have black sheets he tends to blend in with the bed making it hard to tell if he sneaks up there before us.

I cannot tell you when it all began. I have always been plagued by sleep paralysis. I have somewhat learned to deal with it, to recognise it for what it is and wait it out. It always begins with the need to yawn or speak, but my mouth is shut tight. I then try to sit bolt upright, but my arms and body are clamped down to the bed. Sometimes my eyes are open. Sometimes I see things.

It has been six weeks since my first sighting of the wicked old hag. I woke up in the middle of the night and went to roll over, but my entire body was paralysed. I lay there, scared and helpless, contemplating my predicament when I became aware of a presence in the room with me…a presence that I can only describe as pure evil.

Okay.. So, before I begin, I just want to say that this story is true. What I’m about to tell you, really happened to me and I’m not just saying so. This happened when I was a kid. We lived in a smaller house back then and I shared a room with my elder sister. We had a bunk bed and I slept in the bottom bunk. Or, I tried to. For no good reason I was afraid to sleep there.

Joseph sat slumped on the sofa, staring into the darkness beyond the patio windows. The only light source being a dim lamp on a side table. Any light would have done for him to ease the fear he had of ‘the Bad Man’. He had hurt Joseph’s neck, and when he had awoken the next night, Joseph wanting to do the same to others. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Smiling, he knew it would soon be time. Another few minutes.

I'm a surgeon. Now, I've seen my fair share of strange medical events, But one event that I saw still haunts me to this day.

(This is the typed version of a handwritten transcript that I was given access to. The transcript itself is from a voice recording, but I have no idea where that is, or how the person who wrote the transcript obtained it. Due to the sloppiness of the handwriting and some water marks, some of the words are indecipherable, or maybe they were unintelligible from the recording. I cannot go into detail as to how I came across this transcript.)

I live in a small village in the Western Countryside of England though I better not tell you which, for your own safety above all else. A lot of this won't make sense at first but bare with me, theres a lot I need to say. Let me just start from the beginning.

I was home alone for the week, as my family had gone on vacation while I had to stay and work. It was around 2 AM, and I’d stayed up to watch a scary movie in the dark in my basement. I was intent on really scaring myself and seeing how far into terror I could really go – while still knowing I was safe in my own home.

Hello. My name is Alex. To describe my life first and foremost, it sucks. Today on my terrible job as a demolition inspector, I get to go out and examine this old apartment complex (Birchwood) that has been abandoned for a year or two. You can imagine how fun that is. I wake up around noon in an apartment of my own. I start off my day waking up to this annoying old alarm clock. BEEP BEEP BEEP. I then go the door of my small bedroom. My room has a computer desk in the corner, and the walls are…

The dirt path that winds down the valley outside his cabin would make him question the need to go to school. In fact; going into town seemed pointless. It was good exercise, and it was a beautiful view, but there was simply nothing to be accomplished with going to school. Still, his father made him carry out the deed, along with many other chores, such as prepping the wood and lamp oil, melting the ink, and tending to the garden. His father lived old fashioned, and the son preferred it that way.

There are few now left alive who remember the Song and Dance Man. Time has claimed the ones that survived the long night and I’m sure they went willing to meet their maker. Life takes on a strange tint after a night like that.

It's been about 3 months since I moved into my new apartment on the third floor of a friends friend's complex. It was way cheaper than anything else on the market that a second year college student like myself could afford. Plus I figured a change in scenery from my roommate playing Soft core animated porno games and listening to loud annoying techno music was due.

Your Majesty, I do not mean to interrupt. I do know that today is a day of celebration. That this feast you have thrown has been in my honor. But I bid you give me the floor. For there is no cause for celebration. You celebrate today for the death of a beast, and yet I aim to make amends. For you see, the beast lives on. I can see by the look on your face that you are confused…and perhaps you feel you are owed an explanation. If it pleases Your Majesty, I will give you just that.

The following dialog was found written on a scrap of paper in the cell of a now missing John Doe.

I can taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. Feel it trickle down from the gash at my hairline. The heat is everywhere. With each breath I inhale hot ash. My throat is dry and scalded. The air around me seemed to burn my skin, biting more viciously at my open wounds and scratches. I stopped shaking a while ago. Now my hands are steady. I’m frozen in fear. I probably make easy prey, but I can’t think of anything else to do now. I’m out of ideas.