Hello, Mother, I feel like tonight may be my last in these trenches, for better or worse. Last night the enemy pushed us back to the perimeter of the town we’ve been defending for the past three months. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how much longer we can hold out for. Reinforcements and supplies are two to three days out, I have two insta-chow syringes left and three and a half magazines to hold me through the next few nights. We have about two more hours of sunlight left. I’ll be sure to give the mail carrier this letter before it heads back to command. I just need to be honest with you. Don’t get me wrong, I love you very…

To give you some context, I’ve been working for a large maintenance company for 10 years. In terms of our sectors of activity, we cover a wide range: industry, healthcare, agri-food, tertiary… We even work for private individuals and local authorities. In other words, we’re always busy. For my part, I work in a subsidiary specializing in tag and graffiti removal. Let me tell you, it’s not the most exciting job in the world. It’s like pulling weeds in your garden: it’s a pain in the ass, and you never see the end of it. For every tag removed, three new ones appear the next day. Clearly, we can’t keep up with these tagging bastards. Despite this, cities continue to…

“Boy, you’re entirely too old to be pussyfooting with a grown hog like that. If you intend to do a job, then do it, don’t hesitate,” said the blood-soaked farmer. I looked down at the horror stricken pig with pity in my eyes. It seemed to know what would happen next. The poor creature was beginning to squeal. It was too similar to the cries of a human. I felt sickened, like I was witnessing a murder. With one slash of the knife, one squirt of the arterial spray, one choked squeal, the job was done. James “Jimmy” O’Neil, a no-nonsense farmer old enough to feel the aches of a body abused by hard work, yet not old enough to…

Richard removed the lightswitch to the basement stairwell. It wasn’t that he simply disabled it, no. He removed the entire thing. Plastic covering, screws, the switch box—all of it. Though, he had shut off the power to the basement for good measure, too. Every once in a while when a worried family member or friend or even his colleagues from work would stop by. Sometimes they just wanted to say hello. Sometimes they wanted to bring him food, worried about how much weight he’d lost. Other times they would come by with the name of a counselor they hoped would be a good fit for him. He didn’t mind those visits. He enjoyed the company, even if it was his…

It’s stuck in my mind, trapped and buried in the deepest regions, only to resurface when my mind wonders. I’ll be on the brink of sleep, drifting off when the haunting memories return to me. It was to become a man they told me, but it simply made me less of a human. Decades ago, the summer heat rained down on our small town in Texas. The only safety for the younglings was the shade of trees as our parents forced us outside til the dinner bell rang. School was out, and there was almost nothing to do. Worse of all, my parents refused to take me to the local pool, citing health concerns. Alas, there was a saving grace.…

“A single glimpse and heed the sin eater’s curse, travelers. Now tell me. How may you comprehend your mortality after gazing upon this monumental tree? Behold! The living legend. As promised, I present to you, the Sin Eater!” Alan, their tour guide, shouted at the top of his lungs. Grace cringed as the balding thirty-year-old burst through the bushes and shimmered jazz hands toward the massive tree. But as she gazed up from her footprints, a shiver ran down her spine. She became enamored, losing herself in its ancient, gnarled branches. The sin eater was comparable to the likes of a ginkgo tree, but with bark of rich ebony. Instead of leaves, long black feathers, like that of a raven…

“Come on James!” I hurriedly whispered. “Coming man!” James replied quietly. We had been walking back from a long day at the park, playing football, buying some snack and being a general nuisance to the birds that wanted to pick up crumbs from the ground. Our walk from and to the park took us around the outskirts of a condemned neighbourhood, and though we were slightly spooked by the general vibes being given off the place during the day, it was nowhere near as creepy and grotesque during the night. Oftentimes when either of us would walk we could hear a slight creak or some rustle, yet we assured ourselves it must be just age taking its toll in the houses. “Fancy exploring…

I used to hear in school to never sleep with a mirror facing your bed. People said that mirrors were portals to other dimensions and realities. I always thought it was a load of rubbish. How could a mirror, a simple reflection, be the gateway to something so powerful? Like I was saying, it was something kids in my class used to talk about, but I never actually gave it a second thought until now. I’m a 20-year-old who’s just moved out of my parents’ house, living it up in ‘The Big Apple’. Ironic how they can call it the big apple yet I have to walk 10 miles to get fruit that isn’t coated in additives and preservatives. Not…

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…

In the fall of 1979 Martin “Marty” Joseph was a 23-year-old rookie highway patrolman with the Pennsylvania State Police.  Marty was fresh out of the academy, and before that had been a star football player at Temple University in Philadelphia, before returning to his native Western Pennsylvania to attend the State Police Academy. He was tall, stout and handsome by traditional standards. Dark brown hair that he kept high and tight in accordance with the state police regulations. He had dark brown eyes, and a sharp jawline with high cheekbones. He was the envy of all the older officers at his station, many of whom were nearing retirement and jealous of Marty’s imposing physique and boyish charms. He had only…