In a dilapidated house at the edge of a small, quiet town, where the shadows danced and the wind whispered secrets, was what was supposed to be my wife and I’s paradise. Our once-grand home now stood as a decrepit monument to the relentless march...

Part I I have never been a superstitious man,Β and can honestly say that I do not believe in vampires, ghouls, demons, or anything else that those youngsters with their vivid imaginations and smartphones like to dream up. But there is one thing that happened a very...

β€œNo one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heavenβ€”the Son of Man.” John 3:13 CHAPTER 1 Devon, England. October 1991 The Duke’s Head pub had been derelict for two years now; boarded up, condemned; but no one missed it. It had never been a...

Dak and Chadwick each lit up a smoke and cracked their windows, the excitement of a good day fishing warming their spirits despite the cold wind that suddenly filled the cab of Chadwick’s truck. The sporadic raindrops that began to fall as they left the...

James was an eight-year-old boy with the heart of a dog and the energy of a hummingbird. His mother died when he was only five, so he lived with his grandmother, Babcia. They were very poor: their house was a tiny, dilapidated thing, with a...

I think there’s three of them still out there β€” three wolves. Aside from the one I killed, I’ve only seen two at any given time, but they’re distinct enough for me to tell them apart β€” there are three of them. We’ve been trapped...

β€œDo not go outside! Ignore all cries for help, no matter how human they sound!” shouted Alex’s dad. He pulled the cellar door over and paused to look back. β€œAnd lock this door behind me.” The door slammed shut. Alex locked it, walked down the stairs...

β€œThe devil doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. He comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” – Tucker Max Chapter 1: The Penthouse Thomas stared out over New York from the 34th floor of Manhattan Dynamics Corporate Center, amused at how he could look...

The carpet smells of decay and mud as I flatten my face against the floor in an attempt to hide under our queen-sized bed. An incessant banging at the door resonates through my brain, feeling like I’m being impaled with an iron spike. Each knock slams...

The Mandela Effect. That phrase never meant anything to me. Spooky, I guess, but it wasn’t something I thought about for more than five minutes. I mean, honestly, until college, I didn’t even know what it was. I’m not one for conspiracy theories or ghost...

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