#creatures

November 1756 Quebec Canadian Wilderness

During the summer of 2003, events in the northeastern United States involving a strange, human-like creature sparked brief local media interest before an apparent blackout was enacted. Little or no information was left intact, as most online and written accounts of the creature were mysteriously destroyed.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe because if I don’t, it will stay in my head forever, scratching at the inside of my skull like something that wants out. My name is John, and a few months ago I found something I should have left buried. It happened during a trip out west, far from any marked trails, in a place where the silence feels wrong, like it’s not empty but waiting. I came across an old shack, barely standing, hidden between dead trees and dry grass. It looked like no one had…

The clock was ticking. Like a pickaxe in my skull. It's now 2:45. Fifteen minutes until I hear your footsteps; not that bare feet can make much noise on that gravel road. Seventeen minutes until I hear your broken nails on the wooden door. Blindly scratching away, trying to find the handle. Twenty minutes until your voice is calling out to me. But it will be strangled, like always. It's hard to talk with maggots eating at your vocal cords.

Growing up, my family was like a bunch of nomads. We never settled in one place for long. Anytime my father’s job called for it, we would uproot our lives and head on to the next big thing. This meant ending friendships and enrolling in school time after time. It was frustrating having to repeatedly sever my ties with the friends I made, and the little nest I crafted for myself. But as a ten-year-old kid, who was I to complain?

I've always loved the dark. It feels warm and welcoming. Like a mask, hiding all the stress and emotion that the daylight shows so explicitly and replacing them with a sensuous feeling. The dark reveals your true nature and abolishes the facade you play during the daytime. Yes. The dark is good. You can be yourself in the dark and not feel judged or threatened all the while by being yourself.

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:…

While honeymooning in Maine, my wife and I stopped in the picturesque town of Boothbay on a particularly dreary and rainy day. Since our planned picnic was out of the question, we sought shelter in a dilapidated little antique store near the harbour. While my wife inspected the large chests and side tables near the door, I eagerly examined the antique tools and seafaring equipment inside the glass sales counter at the back. Being a collector of optics and mariner’s instruments, I hoped to find…

The small town of Ravenswood was plagued by a terrifying creature, known as the Dogman. It was said to be a creature that was half-man half-dog, with glowing red eyes and razor-sharp teeth. It was a creature of legend, but the people of Ravenswood knew it to be all too real. It had been attacking and killing their livestock for months, and the town was in a state of crippling fear.

I was so excited. I hadn't ever really gone camping before, so the fact that one of my friends asked me to go with him was amazing in and of itself. He made plans for five other guys to join us as well. The plan was to leave right after classes on Friday evening and drive up to an old abandoned farmhouse, which, in Kansas, aren't too uncommon. This one was special, though, or so I was told by Riley, my friend that had invited me. He said not only was the house quite large and well held…

One There were originally nine of us scheduled for the spelunking expedition, but Murphy’s Law dictated that two of the group had to pull out due to various issues. It was a disappointment having fewer members to share in the experience, but then again, there were benefits – less logistical problems, more space and so on. I, personally, wasn’t that affected by it; while most of us were close friends, I hadn’t known those two well.

I've never been what you'd call a "gamer". Sure, I own a console. It's outdated by now. I like to play the odd game. But that's about it. I'm almost forty. Old enough now that when I was at the height of my "gaming" years, all that really entailed was getting together with friends to play Mario or Castlevania, or Excite Bike, or Punch-Out. Maybe Sonic if a friend had a Genesis, which no one does anymore.

L-3 About 10 miles off the shores of Galveston, Texas, lies Grandiosia Isle: 300,000 acres of swamp, mountain, jungle, and thick pine forest. It has endured a lot—a blizzard during the early 1200s, hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis, and in 1875 a forest fire scorched the entire island, rendering it uninhabitable for some time. As a result, the island was nearly devoid of forest life, except for creatures capable of flight, until 1994 when deer and such were reintroduced onto the island.

I’m sure many of you have heard of the Uncanny Valley effect, for those who haven’t it is essentially the sense of fear or unease a person can feel when they see a creature or object that resembles a human; but there is something about the entity that makes it not look right, think mannequins or robots. However, this fear has caused a lot of debate, mainly about why we have it to begin with; most of our main fears and phobias can be traced back to our ancient ancestors; and what they…

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.

The attic hatch didn’t just open; it fell away with a deafening crack, dangling by a single, twisted hinge. I scrambled backward, my heels drumming against the dusty floorboards until my spine hit the cold glass of the circular window. The creature didn't climb in. Instead, it reached up with those impossible, elongated fingers and gripped the edge of the opening. It pulled itself up just enough for me to see the top of its head—the same smooth, featureless grey skin, pulsing like a heartbeat.

I used to go diving a lot. Not so much anymore, but a couple years ago I was really into it, had my license and everything. It’s really beautiful down there: the pale patterned sand, the water washing away the distance like a blue mist, and flashes of the brightest colors you’ve ever seen as some fish darts into view. I’ve done my share of exploring wrecks and grottoes, but my favorite thing to do is hover right where the shelf plunges into the deep. You get the greatest dynamics there as…

When I was young, we were left unattended. My friends and I rode our bikes deep into the fields and returned at our leisure. We rarely played in the same location and often ditched it after a few days. With each new adventure, we drifted further from civilization, and one day, we struck gold, figuratively speaking of course.

The sun was dancing on the horizon, shadows lengthening and the light beginning to fade. Inside the pure white room, only a table and two steel chairs furnishing it, stood a girl no older than sixteen in a shirt and pants the same hue as the room.

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…