My best friends Darius and Jordan learned about my fear of swimming during an impromptu tubing trip on the Farmington River. The summer after I turned twenty-six, Darius and Jordan took me to Foxborough Park, a park that ran alongside the river. Foxborough Park had recently undergone improvements as a part of the town’s beautification project. My parents once described the park as being “overrun by druggies and dropouts.” After the project completed, the town’s lilly-white, upper-middle class community became a mainstay of the park. We preferred the park the old way, even with its reputation, because it was our high school hangout and our getaway during difficult times. “The wonders of gentrification,” Jordan said, gesturing to the Black Bear…

Interview held at West Hill State Hospital, Michigan. Documented on [07/09/██] Interviewed: Patient No.00129 [Natalie Ouelette] Interviewer: Dr. August Hooper Patient Notes: Patient No.00129 has been diagnosed with PTSD and Delusional Psychosis by Dr. Meryl Walker. Upon incarceration, Miss Ouelette had been criminally charged with five counts of murder. In court, Miss Ouelette pleaded insanity and was sectioned, and on the 6th of June was admitted to West Hill State Hospital for treatment. Miss Ouelette has several physical mutilations on her person, including a faded “Chelsea Grin” that has taken four stitches to close on either side. Patient is also missing her left eye due to heavy trauma caused by a stray bullet. Miss Ouelette has exhibited extremely violent episodes…

It was finally time. Ever since the cave was discovered in the mountain next to my hometown, I had always wanted to explore it. It was my right after all, I was the one who found it in the woods as a child. But everyone always told me I was too young to try. So I did the obvious thing and waited it out. I waited twelve years, watching the cave become a point of attraction for scientists and explorers, dreaming about being one of them some day. Literally. Barely any nights passed without me descending into those depths in my dreams, camping in the darkness and discovering new tunnels, and sometimes even stumbling upon unknown cave monsters and trying…

The first time I visited the Otherworld was when I was eleven. One moment I’d been having some peaceful dream I hardly remember, and the next, I was shooting up in bed with a gasp. I pulled my blanket tighter around myself as I looked around uneasily. Something was wrong. The sensation of wrongness was the first thing I remember feeling. The reasons why I felt so became clearer as I took time to look around. My room was far too dark and gloomy. My lava lamp was gone. The posters on my walls were missing. My pair of crammed bookshelves were filled with unfamiliar and disarranged books. Half the stuff on my bedside table was gone; brushes, toys, the…

It’s almost seven. Zoya leans back in her chair, stretching her arms with heavy sighs after a fifteen-page essay. It’s due tomorrow, so there’s still time for edits – but she’s been staring at her screen too long. She peeks out her bedroom window to the right. The last creeping bands of pink and orange sun grow dim across the barren treetops of the forest nearby, bleeding into the horizon beyond her corner of the suburb. The autumn air is cool and fresh, the wind is tame and her work is done for the day. She’s looking forward to her daily run. Kicking off the chair, putting her PC to sleep and slipping into freshly-laundered workout clothes and a thin…

Mankind should learn to stop its curious nature before it becomes our undoing. If only they knew what we knew, they would not want us to continue to search the depths of the God forsaken oceans. The horrors we saw through our newest equipment is something that I still can not grip my mind around. It plagues me to the point where when I’m done recounting my story, I will join the crew of project X-2. God or Gods that may claim me, please have mercy on my soul. It started November 20,2020. After the failure of killing the creature that lies at the bottom of the sea, we decided to create major upgrades to our vessels. You heard correctly.…

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…

I was never one for superstitions, but the events of the last few months have drastically changed my outlook on the cosmic forces at work in this world. It began last year when my best friend Lonzo and I had decided we had enough of our lives in South Florida and both pursued new careers in beautiful Butte, Montana. We had been friends since we were kids, and neither of us was happy with where our careers were at age 25, me a substitute teacher in the Miami-Dade Public System and Lonzo working construction after a series of knee injuries ended his chances of playing shortstop in the majors. We both had always loved the outdoors, along with our buddy…