The ball streaked towards little Jimmy Hanson, covering the distance uncomfortably fast. The scrawny boy two sizes too small with the aviator glasses, cringed out of the way. It landed directly where he had been standing, and like that the game ended. “Damnit Jimmy, you’re supposed to catch the ball not hide from it!” a fat kid with a glove on one hand cried. A skinny boy with glasses turned from the pitcher’s mound to look at Jimmy disdain clearly visible on his face, “This is the third run you’ve allowed, and you wonder why we never let you play with us. You’re dog shit! Actually, I apologize to all loads of shit out there, you’re even more useless. I’d…

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…

Nobody remembers when they appeared, some think they have been here since the beginning of time and space, or at least since the first human existed, others think they came into existence more recently. I personally don’t care where they come from, or how they got here, I only really care about keeping myself alive. The copycats, that’s what we call them. Most of the time they look almost human, trying to copy the appearances of their last victims. I say almost, because they often appear as tall as the streetlights, or have big bulging eyes and smiles with too many teeth. Some of them can speak too, sort of as a way to lure us out. In reality, most…

Never get a hole in one at a mini-golf course. Trust me, the risk is not worth the fleeting sense of accomplishment. Let’s be real. You probably got one on accident, anyway, so any pride you’d feel is undeserved. At Putt Head’s Mini-Golf and Arcade, getting a hole in one on the 18th hole earned you a free game. It was a gimmick that everyone tried for. Even if your family was completely sick of the looping kiddie music playing over the rusted speakers and everyone was in-fighting by the end… they still tried for the hole in one. Free is free. When I was a kid, I got a hole in one, there. I felt like a celebrity when…

Ruby, crimson, scarlet. The colour of fire, of passion, of pain. Red. How I love it. It was beautiful. The boldness, the warmth of the colour stirred something deep inside me. It whispered to the very core of my being. Dark, seductive. Velvet promises of unrivalled pain and pleasure. It made me feel alive, but it was so rarely found pure and untouched. Red. Its essence, I could only behold it in fleeting glimpses. It always vanished before I could really appreciate that loveliness. Blossoms wilted, makeup faded, and the garments of passers-by were never the right shade. I hungered for something deeper, richer than those glimpses of beauty. It was then that something occurred to me… the colour of…

I remember that night all too vividly, as if the memories were etched into my very soul. It was a cold, moonless evening, the kind that sends shivers down your spine and makes you wish for the warmth and safety of home. But little did I know that home would offer no sanctuary from the horrors that awaited me. We were gathered around the campfire, a group of friends seeking refuge from the darkness that enveloped the forest like a shroud. The flames danced and flickered, casting eerie shadows upon the trees that loomed ominously in the distance. It was then that I first heard it, a faint rustling in the underbrush that sent a chill down my spine. At…

I prefer not to speak about the days I worked for Coca-Cola. However, I feel it is my duty to reveal the sick secrets of this wicked corporation. They were willing to torment people, use them as puppets, torture them, and even take their lives, just to assure their business stayed on top. Not too many years ago, I would say around 2009, I was gaining acclaim for the diligence and impressive skill I displayed. The manager of our Coca-Cola sector promoted me to oversee the newest project they were testing. It was called Hyper-Cola. Energy drinks were rising in popularity, and Coca-Cola had no product to compete in this field. Hyper-Cola was planned to alter just that. I had…

Everyone knew that Elias would die young. His life was cursed from the beginning. When he was only seven years old, his existence was already marked by death and chaos. He watched his mother Grace get murdered by his step-father Tim. He strangled the woman with his bare hands and when she was finally dead he picked up a large kitchen knife and proceeded to stab himself in the chest multiple times until he died of blood loss. Elias locked himself in his room and when he came out the police were already taking her away in a body bag. It’s no coincidence our first album, “Body Bag EP” was called just that. In the early days Blasphemous Requiem started…

Bloody and beaten from the journey you’ve had, you finally arrive. A haunting, immense palace of the long fallen kingdom comes into view. Crumbling staircases and ornate statues in every direction you look, each statue represents something, this kingdom… was built on fear. Fear of dying out. As you climb the stairs, you look at each engraving in the cracked stone walls. Horrific experiments displayed, various ways they have tried to impregnate their females, mutilation, torture, mutated fetuses, birth, death, and so much more. You step inside the palace. There is an eerie silence. Deafening in a way as if the people of this kingdom are watching you.The only hint that people even lived here, however, is the bodies. Hanging…

I awoke to the sound of dripping water, it was coming from somewhere in the kitchen, the open door just a few feet away. The smell hit me, just as pungent as it was when I went to sleep. My eyes started to water at the pure concentration of the odor, and the nausea set in. How long had it been since I arrived here? A week? A month? It sure felt like forever, but time was useless for me, since I knew however long it had been wouldn’t affect how long it would be until I could leave. I heard the muffled humming, coming from a distance. It was him… he was on his way back. As he got…