Part I Rain hammered the train windows with a steady, insistent rhythm, as though trying to force its way inside. Tina Morales had always found something calming in train rides. The gentle sway of the car, the hum beneath her feet, and the long bands of fluorescent...
Part I Martin Avery had never ordered a clock. There had been no knock at the door, no delivery truck groaning away down the drive. Only the faint creak of his front gate opening sometime near dawn, followed by the gentle sound of something being set down...
Part I It was still dark when they arrived, though the sky to the east had begun to suggest the approach of dawn. Waverly Hollow Asylum loomed ahead like a broken stone crown, its silhouette jagged with rusted fencing that twisted upward like iron thorns. The...
Part I Eli Martin had photographed frostbitten tundras in Nunavut and jungles thick with steam in Suriname. He had waded through mangrove swamps in Myanmar, waiting for hours to catch the flick of a rare bird’s wing or the twitch of an ear in the trees....
Part I Emmett Coleridge had stopped changing the calendar. It still hung crooked on the side of the fridge, March 14th circled in red ink. Christina had written the note a week prior, reminding him they had dinner reservations. “No excuses, even if the firm is on...
It was supposed to be a fun weekend in the woods. The four of us had rented a little house with a backyard that opened onto six thousand acres of forest, or something like that. Honestly, I hadn’t paid that much attention to the details....
It was a cold spring morning, the type of weather that can confuse the soul. I thought we were past all of this. Everything in the world looks so kind and so friendly, so why does it feel so cruel? Outside the window, the fresh...
“Look here, Burger,” said Kennedy, “I do wish that you would confide in me.” The two famous students of Roman remains sat together in Kennedy’s comfortable room overlooking the Corso. The night was cold, and they had both pulled up their chairs to the unsatisfactory Italian...
The following narrative was found among the papers of Dr. James Hardcastle, who died of phthisis on February 4th, 1908, at 36, Upper Coventry Flats, South Kensington. Those who knew him best, while refusing to express an opinion upon this particular statement, are unanimous in...
Part I The tomb was not where it had been. That was Marcus’s first thought as he stood in the moonlit dunes, the wind scraping sand across his boots and the legs of his pants. Each shift of his weight caused him to sink slightly into the...
Part I The candles flickered against the early evening air, their small flames dancing like fireflies battered by wind. One by one, they dimmed, their light extinguished as a restless breeze stirred the space between the trees. Heather stood among the clusters of townspeople, her vigil...
Part I It had rained the day before they arrived, though the air that lingered along the hedgerows and cottages smelled more of earth than of water. Andrew noticed it first as they stepped out of the narrow rental car in front of the stone-framed gate...
Part I I first noticed something different in Owen when the heat broke and the evenings cooled enough to leave the windows open. There hadn’t been an incident—no fever, no fall, nothing to blame. Just a sudden and unshakable quiet that didn’t belong to a six-year-old...
Part I We came to the cabin after everything else had fallen apart—not for a vacation, and not because we wanted to live a simpler life. It was the only option left. My aunt had owned the place decades ago, back in the seventies, when she...
Part I I was never supposed to lead the Aravik survey. Officially, the initiative belonged to the Oceanographic Institute of Bergen, a multi-year study into the tectonic properties of a glacial rift beneath an inland body of water. On paper, it was meant to be geology,...
Part I Mason Firth watched the rural highway unravel in a slow curve through brittle grass and leafless oaks, the pavement cracking into patches where frost heave had bullied its way to the surface. His truck groaned with each dip, suspension aging as poorly as his...
Part I The gravel cracked beneath the tires of the rented Jeep as it slowed to a halt, dust rising in thick orange plumes that lingered in the still air before dissipating into the mid-afternoon glare. The sun was high over the rim of the ravine,...
Part I Dr. Neal Farrow stepped down from the rust-scorched cab of the Hilux, his boots sinking slightly into the orange dust as the wind carried dry grains in lazy spirals across the barren flat. The engine idled for a moment longer before the driver cut...
Part I The iron gate at the edge of Charlotte Street let out a brittle screech as Camille Wren pressed it inward with her forearm, careful not to let her suitcase topple sideways against the uneven brick. The fence, once black, now bore the fading bronze...
Part I There was something in the tape that defied explanation. Claire Morse had watched it more than a dozen times since the envelope first arrived, but each viewing stirred the same unease—an itch at the base of her neck, a vague stirring behind her eyes....
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