I never thought much about puppets. They were relics of another time, something my grandparents might have found amusing before the age of screens. I’d seen them in dusty attics and antique shops, their faces painted in stiff, eternal grins. They were lifeless, inert things that didn’t deserve a second thought. But that was before it came to town. It started in the early days of October, when the air was thick with the promise of decay and endings. The traveling puppet show arrived without fanfare—no posters, no announcements. One day, there was simply a tent in the empty lot at the edge of town, its canvas tattered but grand, striped red and black like a bloodstained circus. Kids at…

I didn’t remember how I got there. One moment, I was somewhere ordinary—a grocery store, maybe my car—and the next, I was standing in the polished hallway of a sprawling mansion. The floors gleamed like polished obsidian under chandeliers that glittered coldly overhead. The place was immaculate, almost painfully so, but something about it felt wrong. It wasn’t the silence—no, the silence was welcome. It was the way the air pressed down on me, thick and humid, as though the house had lungs, and I was breathing what it exhaled. I wasn’t alone. My brothers were with me, talking quietly near the massive oak doors we’d apparently come through. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their presence was…

I hate snow. Not in the way most people hate the inconvenience of shoveling their driveways or the sting of icy wind slicing through their scarves. Not in the way someone groans when their morning commute is slowed to a crawl or when their favorite shoes soak through, leaving their socks clammy and cold. No, my hatred runs deeper than that—bone-deep, marrow-deep, settling into the cracks of my ribs like frost that never thaws. Most people love snow. They welcome it, yearn for it even. Their faces light up the moment the first flakes begin to fall, delicate as whispers, like the world itself is speaking some long-forgotten lullaby. Snow is magical to them, a crystalline promise of laughter, snowball…

Welcome the Horrify, A Halloween, and October tales. Where monsters roam wilder, and demons pass through. There will be 31 stories to tell. Throughout October. We had begun with the Haunted series. The tale and horror of The Ballerina. Let’s begin and enter the shadows of night. Chapter 1: Tragedy A stage filled with people and lights. The shined of the lights makes the stage look like it’s made of gold.  A woman with long brown hair dressed in white. Feathers adorn her tutu in vibrant and various colors. She dances with the lights. With grace, and unknown gentleness that captures the audience. Unknown to all, what would come next would lead to her death and downfall.  A snap of…

“Why did I choose this job?” Vanessa wondered. She never wanted to work with people, especially not in mental hospitals. She had always preferred remote work, but for now, this job would do. She handled both day and night shifts because no one else wanted to work with these individuals. She understood why. But who was she to judge? Besides, it was the only way to reduce her sentence. All she needed to do was pass out medication and keep an eye on them—how hard could that be? She did her daily rounds, checking on patients, distributing their meds, and ensuring they were fed. It wasn’t the hardest job, and interacting with most of them was actually enjoyable. Her heart…

I don’t want to burst anyone’s bubble, here… so if you believe in haunted “Lost Episode” legends and enjoy living in that world, maybe this isn’t the post for you. Don’t get me wrong – I hate when people complain about “lack of realism” in entertainment, and I think all kids need to believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy for as long as possible, but… this is different. Back in the 80s I met this dude, Sid, who used to cut old VHS tapes and shit. It was more than a hobby for him – it was pretty much his entire life. His parents were a bit more wealthy than I’d been blessed with, so when we were teenagers…

It was just a normal day, except that’s what I thought… I was wrong. On February 24, 2024, I learned the truth, what goes on in this little town, Blue Springs, Missouri. It was about 5 days before my family and I were gonna leave to go on a trip up to Chicago, but some strange things started to happen…It’s hard to explain. I mean it’s not normal what happened to me, not at all. It was almost like I got a sense someone or something was watching me from afar, but it wasn’t comforting, you know? It was like that thing had the intention of hurting me and my family, god how I hated  that feeling. So it’s about…

I don’t want to burst anyone’s bubble, here… so if you believe in haunted “Lost Episode” legends and enjoy living in that world, maybe this isn’t the post for you. Don’t get me wrong – I hate when people complain about “lack of realism” in entertainment, and I think all kids need to believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy for as long as possible, but… this is different. Back in the 80s I met this dude, Sid, who used to cut old VHS tapes and shit. It was more than a hobby for him – it was pretty much his entire life. His parents were a bit more wealthy than I’d been blessed with, so when we were teenagers…

I didn’t remember how I got there. One moment, I was somewhere ordinary—a grocery store, maybe my car—and the next, I was standing in the polished hallway of a sprawling mansion. The floors gleamed like polished obsidian under chandeliers that glittered coldly overhead. The place was immaculate, almost painfully so, but something about it felt wrong. It wasn’t the silence—no, the silence was welcome. It was the way the air pressed down on me, thick and humid, as though the house had lungs, and I was breathing what it exhaled. I wasn’t alone. My brothers were with me, talking quietly near the massive oak doors we’d apparently come through. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their presence was…

I hate snow. Not in the way most people hate the inconvenience of shoveling their driveways or the sting of icy wind slicing through their scarves. Not in the way someone groans when their morning commute is slowed to a crawl or when their favorite shoes soak through, leaving their socks clammy and cold. No, my hatred runs deeper than that—bone-deep, marrow-deep, settling into the cracks of my ribs like frost that never thaws. Most people love snow. They welcome it, yearn for it even. Their faces light up the moment the first flakes begin to fall, delicate as whispers, like the world itself is speaking some long-forgotten lullaby. Snow is magical to them, a crystalline promise of laughter, snowball…

I never thought much about puppets. They were relics of another time, something my grandparents might have found amusing before the age of screens. I’d seen them in dusty attics and antique shops, their faces painted in stiff, eternal grins. They were lifeless, inert things that didn’t deserve a second thought. But that was before it came to town. It started in the early days of October, when the air was thick with the promise of decay and endings. The traveling puppet show arrived without fanfare—no posters, no announcements. One day, there was simply a tent in the empty lot at the edge of town, its canvas tattered but grand, striped red and black like a bloodstained circus. Kids at…

It was just a normal day, except that’s what I thought… I was wrong. On February 24, 2024, I learned the truth, what goes on in this little town, Blue Springs, Missouri. It was about 5 days before my family and I were gonna leave to go on a trip up to Chicago, but some strange things started to happen…It’s hard to explain. I mean it’s not normal what happened to me, not at all. It was almost like I got a sense someone or something was watching me from afar, but it wasn’t comforting, you know? It was like that thing had the intention of hurting me and my family, god how I hated  that feeling. So it’s about…

“Why did I choose this job?” Vanessa wondered. She never wanted to work with people, especially not in mental hospitals. She had always preferred remote work, but for now, this job would do. She handled both day and night shifts because no one else wanted to work with these individuals. She understood why. But who was she to judge? Besides, it was the only way to reduce her sentence. All she needed to do was pass out medication and keep an eye on them—how hard could that be? She did her daily rounds, checking on patients, distributing their meds, and ensuring they were fed. It wasn’t the hardest job, and interacting with most of them was actually enjoyable. Her heart…

Welcome the Horrify, A Halloween, and October tales. Where monsters roam wilder, and demons pass through. There will be 31 stories to tell. Throughout October. We had begun with the Haunted series. The tale and horror of The Ballerina. Let’s begin and enter the shadows of night. Chapter 1: Tragedy A stage filled with people and lights. The shined of the lights makes the stage look like it’s made of gold.  A woman with long brown hair dressed in white. Feathers adorn her tutu in vibrant and various colors. She dances with the lights. With grace, and unknown gentleness that captures the audience. Unknown to all, what would come next would lead to her death and downfall.  A snap of…

I don’t want to burst anyone’s bubble, here… so if you believe in haunted “Lost Episode” legends and enjoy living in that world, maybe this isn’t the post for you. Don’t get me wrong – I hate when people complain about “lack of realism” in entertainment, and I think all kids need to believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy for as long as possible, but… this is different. Back in the 80s I met this dude, Sid, who used to cut old VHS tapes and shit. It was more than a hobby for him – it was pretty much his entire life. His parents were a bit more wealthy than I’d been blessed with, so when we were teenagers…

It was just a normal day, except that’s what I thought… I was wrong. On February 24, 2024, I learned the truth, what goes on in this little town, Blue Springs, Missouri. It was about 5 days before my family and I were gonna leave to go on a trip up to Chicago, but some strange things started to happen…It’s hard to explain. I mean it’s not normal what happened to me, not at all. It was almost like I got a sense someone or something was watching me from afar, but it wasn’t comforting, you know? It was like that thing had the intention of hurting me and my family, god how I hated  that feeling. So it’s about…

I hate snow. Not in the way most people hate the inconvenience of shoveling their driveways or the sting of icy wind slicing through their scarves. Not in the way someone groans when their morning commute is slowed to a crawl or when their favorite shoes soak through, leaving their socks clammy and cold. No, my hatred runs deeper than that—bone-deep, marrow-deep, settling into the cracks of my ribs like frost that never thaws. Most people love snow. They welcome it, yearn for it even. Their faces light up the moment the first flakes begin to fall, delicate as whispers, like the world itself is speaking some long-forgotten lullaby. Snow is magical to them, a crystalline promise of laughter, snowball…

I didn’t remember how I got there. One moment, I was somewhere ordinary—a grocery store, maybe my car—and the next, I was standing in the polished hallway of a sprawling mansion. The floors gleamed like polished obsidian under chandeliers that glittered coldly overhead. The place was immaculate, almost painfully so, but something about it felt wrong. It wasn’t the silence—no, the silence was welcome. It was the way the air pressed down on me, thick and humid, as though the house had lungs, and I was breathing what it exhaled. I wasn’t alone. My brothers were with me, talking quietly near the massive oak doors we’d apparently come through. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their presence was…

“Why did I choose this job?” Vanessa wondered. She never wanted to work with people, especially not in mental hospitals. She had always preferred remote work, but for now, this job would do. She handled both day and night shifts because no one else wanted to work with these individuals. She understood why. But who was she to judge? Besides, it was the only way to reduce her sentence. All she needed to do was pass out medication and keep an eye on them—how hard could that be? She did her daily rounds, checking on patients, distributing their meds, and ensuring they were fed. It wasn’t the hardest job, and interacting with most of them was actually enjoyable. Her heart…

I never thought much about puppets. They were relics of another time, something my grandparents might have found amusing before the age of screens. I’d seen them in dusty attics and antique shops, their faces painted in stiff, eternal grins. They were lifeless, inert things that didn’t deserve a second thought. But that was before it came to town. It started in the early days of October, when the air was thick with the promise of decay and endings. The traveling puppet show arrived without fanfare—no posters, no announcements. One day, there was simply a tent in the empty lot at the edge of town, its canvas tattered but grand, striped red and black like a bloodstained circus. Kids at…

Welcome the Horrify, A Halloween, and October tales. Where monsters roam wilder, and demons pass through. There will be 31 stories to tell. Throughout October. We had begun with the Haunted series. The tale and horror of The Ballerina. Let’s begin and enter the shadows of night. Chapter 1: Tragedy A stage filled with people and lights. The shined of the lights makes the stage look like it’s made of gold.  A woman with long brown hair dressed in white. Feathers adorn her tutu in vibrant and various colors. She dances with the lights. With grace, and unknown gentleness that captures the audience. Unknown to all, what would come next would lead to her death and downfall.  A snap of…