I live in a small town in America’s heartland where nothing much ever happens. People go to work and go to church, and everyone pretty much knows everyone else. We all shop at the same stores send our kids to the same schools. There are...

There are some things that you struggle to bring into your life. Then there are the things that you do your damnedest to eradicate from your existence. My name is Miguel Ramirez. My friends call me Chico de la PerdiciΓ³n. You heard that right. β€œDoomguy.” As long...

The screams were the hardest part. Standing on the dust-covered hill looking down to the container in the darkness, the cries rose up through the air like a sea of Chinese lanterns ready to be extinguished. They did not bring light; only grief. For Larry, this...

Brenna had been preparing for this fight for months. She had thought she was ready, convinced herself that she could handle it. Now, as the last few miles ticked by on her car’s odometer, the leaden weight sitting in her stomach told her otherwise. She thought...

Throw another log on the fire. That’ll keep us warm for a while, keep the darkness at bay. Perhaps we should pass the time with another story by the campfire. Just long enough to see us through past midnight. I’ve told you stories before of...

A legend says that on the wind of the North Atlantic, there is carried a key to a strange land. A place of unequaled beauty and unparalleled nightmare. For too long I thought those stories the product of whimsical minds. Lazy lips espousing wishful dreams...

Randy Wense had been parked on the corner of Water and 3rd for the last fifteen minutes listening to the newest reports. The radio presenter was relaying a statement that the special agent in charge of the investigation had made earlier that day. He was explaining how...

Unconsciously, I must have seen it from the start–that run down two-story house, with its paint-peeled porch that lorded over an equally neglected lawn. The rusted, chain-link fence that bowed and dipped in places, tangled in weeds. I mean, had it registered, I would have...

Hugh stood at the pulpit, his hands loosely holding each side. Beads of sweat stood out on his wrinkled forehead despite the chill seeping into the old church. Errant drafts of winter wind entered from beneath the eaves and sporadically flowed over his balding head. β€œWhat...

When you have been a priest for as long as I have, you start to notice patterns in people. When a parishioner approaches, I can already guess what they want to ask me by their body language or the way their eyes flicker to meet...

06β€œThey told me you were experienced in harsh waters,” James said, as he pointed out the pearls of sweat that had formed on my forehead. β€œYeah, I do,” I replied, moments before hurling the remnants of a less-than-appetizing lunch, off the side of our ship. β€œIt’s just...

Part One: The Beginning I’m calling it Black Vein Blues. It makes sense if you think about it. About a month ago it started, slow and quiet. I had just come home from school to find my father prodding at the corpse of a gator that washed...

Hello. If you’re listening to this then I’ve been found, and there will be questions. Oh yes, questions aplenty. I’m sure the first of which will be β€˜Why?’ And that is a great one to start with but it’s also the one which doesn’t have an answer....

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