#madness

For me, collecting is more than a hobby - it is a way of life. To me, there is no greater thrill than that moment when you complete a set or find the one rare piece that has eluded antiquarians for years. I love things - cards, figures, dolls, puppets, watches. And as my desire to surround myself with material possessions grew, I found that I did not care for the things so much - but the thrill of collecting them.

The police radio buzzed with static. “We got a double homicide reported at city lake. Any units in the area go check it out.”

Excerpt from a local newspaper: OMINOUS UNKNOWN KILLER IS STILL AT LARGE. After weeks of unexplained murders, the ominous unknown killer is still on the rise. After little evidence has been found, a young boy states that he survived one of the killer’s attacks and bravely tells his story.

-DATE CROSSED OUT-

"BRING THAT ONE UP!" A blinding light explodes in my eyes and a rough claw nearly rips my arm out of its socket. I am being dragged by my t-shirt over a jagged wooden floor, splinters ripping off into my calves, but I can't feel them. My vision starts to clear as I lift my hand to my head. I feel around and draw back a hand full of sticky blood. I hear a slam behind me and a voice shout out, "LOOKS LIKE WE'VE GOT A LIVE ONE!"

The late 1980's were a time in my life I normally don't care to remember. My mother and I had moved away from my grandparents' house. Theirs was the only home I knew. Mother had a bad habit of making poor decisions in men, and so for a while we bounced around from place to place. I even recall being at one school only for a week before we were on the lam once again.

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

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.

Hello readers. I'm writing this because a few hours ago I woke up from a nightmare and there's this... Really weird coincidence, but I'll get to that in a minute. The dream was about this story I read in, I think, 2001 or maybe 2002 I can't quite remember, on a forum I used to go to called bourftforums.net, which was a forum built around this Norwegian indie band called Bourft. Their songs were okay, but I hardly ever listened to them. I only went there because my older sister did, and I stayed…

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.…

Why is this happening to me? I'm not a bad person! I've never hurt anyone; hell, I've never even cheated on a math test! So, why is it here? Why did it choose me? I'm in the hall closet on the second floor, while that "thing" wanders around my home, searching for me! It's the only place I can hide, the only place I feel safe! I don't plan on staying here long, just long enough for it to pass me by. Then, I'll make a run for the front door downstairs!

I’m always playing the part. Ever since this stupid movie started, the part never really left me. You’re probably confused. Should I bother explaining? Honestly, all you’ll do is ridicule me. Oh well. All the people I would confide in aren’t exactly… around. If you have a few minutes, I can tell you a story that will drive you crazy. Trust me, I mean that.

The slight dripping sounds from the kitchen abruptly ended my post vacation buzz as soon as I opened the front door. Knots that I had hoped were lost somewhere on a Hawaiian beach returned to their home in the small of my back as I began the process of doing mental math. The last plumbing mishap relieved me of a month's pay and half of my comic collection. Judging by the competing tones of multiple drips, I told myself this was going to be an expensive plumbing emergency.

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…

“Leave the light on.” she said quietly, barely above a whisper.

I was 15 years old during the weekend in June when everything would change. My mum had decided to skip town to visit her distant family, as she felt that she had earned a break. Nothing unusual about the decision to just up and leave as she often goes to visit 'the other side' as she called it. She'd either visit her parents – a part of the family that I actually enjoy seeing – who occupy a modest cottage up in the hills of some English countryside; or if she was feeling tolerant, she would…

As I lie in my bed, I allow my mind to drift into the depths of my personal despair. I bury my face beneath the sheets, stifling my sobs as they shudder through my body. I feel as though my heart has been broken and I can't think of a reason to live. Other than, of course, my own sad fear of death. I pull my knees to my face, willing myself to accept the ultimatum.

I woke up again last night after hearing the same haunting noise that has plagued me since my early childhood. This time however, is the first time I have heard it during my adult life. When I was younger, I called the noise “sideways static”, but now I don’t give it a name, as I am trying to forget that it exists.

He uttered a curse under his breath, as he had realized he left it at his friend's house. It was his phone, an iPhone 3G to be more specific and it was a device he used almost every hour. His friend's house was maybe three blocks away, and he had an important call he was expecting later that night. He would have to go get it, but there was one severe impediment preventing him from doing this. He had horrid achluophobia, fear of the darkness. It was about ten o' clock now, and it was almost…