#reality

What if everything we thought we knew about angels and demons wasn't quite true? What if they weren't the timeless, immortal beings we had spent entire ages of human history thinking they were? This news would surely prove Earth-shattering in a far too literal sense as we find out on that fateful day. Hell may or may not lie in the physical world, but the shockwaves felt were on a very real scale when it all broke loose. That day started like any other; day traders hit the stock market en…

“I have good news and bad news,” my boss Chester said. If there is a more butthole clenching phrase said at a struggling company during a sudden all hands meeting, I don’t know what it is. Thing was, Chester didn’t need to say a single syllable. His slouched shoulders, pale(er) face, and hangdog expression told us the entire story. The company was going under.

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.

The Vampires almost completely exterminate the Werwolves. But the Vampires now seek to end humanity, life, universe, but the remaining Warwolves have no choice but to fight back. The two fight each Other until only the Warwolves remain. After the Warwolves Link Up a Grove and Enter THE Void Linked Up with the first Werewolf In THE Void to Protect as Protectors the Soul In THE Void. Humanity lives, and rebuilds and repopulates through the Ages, Enlightening and Liberating all humankind.

I was five when the man in the wolfman mask scared the shit out of me. No, he didn’t eat me. No, he didn’t kill me. He just gave me one good Halloween scare.

When I was twelve, I came to the conclusion that everyone in the world, including my own family, was against me. I was never a problemed child, but my parents sure treated me like one.

Aware of my dependence, of how insignificant I am in the claws of the monster, I cannot bring myself to feel panic or the urge to run from it. I want this. I want it, and I plunge into the abyss, into the depths that rake their claws across my thin, frail body, and I even find pleasure in it, because at last, after all these years, I can feel something. I experience this euphoria, this furious rapture beating inside my rib cage with nine separate hearts, while my head grows hazy and heavy, as…

"Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?" "Someone's in my house." A woman, maybe fifty, steady. "In the hallway. I can hear him breathing." I ask for the address and she gives it, slow and clear, and I type it into the field, and the field does something it has never once done: it stops me. The cursor goes red before I finish. A note unfolds under the line, the way the system writes when it's telling you something is over. PREMISES LOST. FIRE. 2019. NO SURVIVORS.

I don’t really remember what happened before it all went dark. I think I was in the car? All I can remember was the loud noise, some screech of metal on metal and then nothing. I woke up in this beeping place. I’m not sure where I am because I can’t seem to open my eyes. Silly, isn’t it? I can definitely feel the blanket on top of me and the beep-beep-beep beside me but I can’t open my eyes or talk or move. People come to poke at me every now and then and I always try to talk to them.

When I was a child my family moved to a big old two-floor house, with big empty rooms and creaking floorboards. Both my parents worked so I was often alone when I came home from school. One early evening when I came home the house was still dark. I called out, “Mum?” and heard her sing song voice say “Yeeeeees?” from upstairs. I called her again as I climbed the stairs to see which room she was in, and again got the same “Yeeeeees?” reply.

In 2003 a photograph depicting a lost child began circulating on the internet. There was no detail on the child other than what was seen in the actual photo and could be found under the search parameters 'find_me.jpg'. The photo showed a smiling young girl about eight or nine years old. The girl is seen standing alone in front of a swing set, wearing a purple dress with a white flower in her hair. Her name or where she was seen last were never mentioned.

I was always afraid of the lunch lady when I was a kid.  I don't know why; maybe it was the toxic stench of her breath, or the dead look in her eyes, or the unkempt hairs dangling off her chin.  No matter what the reason was, my palms grew sweaty and my heart pounded every time I passed her in the lunch line.  I never felt quite at ease until I had left the cafeteria, and even then I still was worried I would catch sight of her in the hallway between classes.

You know those sounds you hear when no one is home? Those sounds only you hear. When you’re alone. I do. I hear them everyday. The creaking. The noises. The paranoia of my mind playing tricks on me, but is it really?

Editor's note: The following pages were found on the laptop of Elena K., a doctoral student at the Art History Institute in Zurich, who has been missing since March 14th. Her advisor passed the file on to us with the request to publish it — maybe someone recognizes something, maybe someone comes forward. We have changed nothing in the text. The image related to her notes is shown above. Please look at it while you read, for better understanding. Aside from this file, only one other thing was…

In Corona, California there once was a road known by most locals as the Never Ending Road. Specifically, the road’s true name was Lester Road. Now, over twenty years later, the landscape of Corona has changed, and the Never Ending Road is no more. However, years ago, Lester Road was an unlit road that people claimed became a never ending road when driven at night. The people who made such a drive were never seen from again.

I am from a small northern town in England. A place with a non-relenting gloom that surrounds the insignificance of the poor souls that live here. It always rains. The sodden clothes we wear only serve to weigh us down into an inescapable darkness, anchor us all into a depression so deep we are the only creatures living there. Life is heavy, life is unfair, life is grim.

In the United States of America, in the state of Ohio, about forty-five minutes North West of Cincinnati, there is a large, but sparsely populated farming community known as Oregonia. Some of you who have an interest in Motorcycles may have heard of it before, as the community is famous for its hills and holds the annual “Devil's Staircase Hill Climb”, where motorcyclists ride their bikes up a very steep hill. It's a lot more fun than it sounds, and it brings in a lot of money and excitement to…

I work the night shift at a local mom-and-pop convenience store at the front of my neighborhood. We sell snacks, drinks, milk, bread, all the normal stuff that people need but aren’t willing to make a traditional run to the grocery store for. There was talk about adding a gas pump out front, but it hasn’t happened yet.

[POST #1] Hello all. Today I went on an interesting trip. It took me a while to save up for the plane tickets, but it was worth it. Before I get into too much detail, I should introduce myself. Well, not really, I'm very paranoid when it comes to the internet, and I won't disclose my real name, so if you want to speak to me, just call me Delmar. I don't know what’s about that word, but I've been digging it lately.

There was a warp before his eyes, before his right eye, an uncommon warp—something like two faces, like two halves of different faces. One for real, living, responsive to the world. And the other . . . about which, echoing your senses, you would say: Whatever for? It shouldn’t be there. It shouldn’t be born in the first place, because whatever’s born is there to embrace life, not repel it, not clam up, not frighten it, not for it to repel the born, not one about which you would say: He’s…