My name is Sherman Lane. Sherman, like the kid with the glasses in Mr. Peabody and Sherman, and Lane, like the butler in The Importance of Being Earnest. I own a shop in the Haight in San Francisco. It’s a small occult shop named The Arcane...
It was 6:00 am when Martin Dillinger opened the door to his room at the Hiawassee Motor Lodge. He squinted and put his hand above his brow to block the bright, orange rays that stretched over and around Bell Mountain, hugging its peak as if...
The porch light was always off when I walked up the driveway, but that never meant the house was dark. The pale glow of the television flickered through the living room blinds, casting long, bruised shadows across the overgrown grass. Fifteen years isn’t much time on...
I opened the messenger app. I hadn’t done much. It was my day off as I had submitted my assignment on the Duke of Wellington’s strategy at the Battle of Waterloo the day before. I was bored and in a bad mood. John had called...
Agent Kirk Winston had gone radio silent ten miles from New Growth, Alabama. That was why I was sitting in Room 6 of the New Growth Inn, field-stripping my Glock on a bedspread that smelled faintly of mildew and cigarette smoke, along with some other cloying...
When I was a boy, I lived with my mother in an old house in Georgia. It was small, and most parts of it were fairly worn, but the asking price was low, and we needed a home. It wasn’t all bad, though. The place...
The lights of the Seattle skyline suddenly ignite as the city comes alive with the sounds and sights of night. In a run-down bar a lone man sits beneath the hum of a florescent overhead light as he holds his whiskey in shaky hands. The...
Part I I set these words down in no expectation that they will avail me, nor even with the confidence that they may serve as a warning to any soul unfortunate enough to encounter them. There are accounts which men write to clarify memory, and others...
I own a pizza place. People hear that and picture something cozy. Brick oven. Family recipes. A guy in a clean apron tossing dough in the air while Sinatra plays in the background. What I actually own is a small-town grease trap with a sign out front. Bell’s...
Christopher Ingram came out of the grocery store with two paper bags in his arms and found a sheet of paper tucked under the wiper blade of his car. At first he thought it was an ad for roofing or gutter work. Then he looked...
Lyndsay found her mother Tina in the kitchen and said she had found noodles from another dimension in the basement. She said it plainly, with no sign that she thought anything about it was strange. She was holding a plastic horse in one hand and had...
Vicky and Kevin Chandler woke to a crash from down the hall, followed by the sharp clang of toy cymbals and a heavy thump that shook the wall. A second later, their son started screaming. By the time they reached Owen’s room, he had backed himself...
Chapter 1 “The Tunnel to Hell” The mountain groaned and geysers of fire burst from its sides. Clouds of sulphur whirled around its peak like bird murmurations and the sky churned over in red spasms all around. At the base of Dragon’s Back Mountain, Royce was...
Kellen Mitchell’s car died on a stretch of county road with no houses, no traffic, and no reason for the engine to fail. One moment, the dash was lit; the next, everything went black, and the wipers stopped in mid-swipe. Rain hammered the windshield. When...
Margaret Dean started at the school on a Tuesday. She was quiet, neat, and pale in a way Ms. Clemens noticed right away, though not enough to mean anything. New children came in nervous all the time. Some cried. Some clung to their parents. Margaret just...
Drac’s head had been bashed to such an extent that he was barely recognizable. He was Zack’s firstborn and the one he adored more than any of his other children. He’d just turned ten when his mutilated body was discovered lying on the floor of...
She stopped as her legs ached from hours of walking. She had come far. Very far. The day and night seemed to intertwine, never being distinct, if there could be said to be a circadian movement in the subtly shifting gray above at all. There...
The following is a collection of letters and documents found by my family, all addressed to my great-great-great-grandfather. None are dated, nor are any properly signed. It can be assumed that they were written by someone after his time at the University of Memphis, due...
“Babe, Travis from WeNet’s on the phone,” Abby said, opening the bathroom door and letting cool air into the hot steamy bathroom. “Shit, okay.” In the shower, I’d been scrubbing the bottoms of my feet with a facecloth lathered in off-brand body wash. “Hang on.” Without choking...
Hayley has new highlights in her hair. A subtle caramel that I don’t notice until she stands—elegant, low-key, conceivably not too expensive. Mom would have liked it. And probably told me that I should get mine done, too. “Just the large matcha latte, Marin?” she asks....
