He liked to kill animals. It was a game he’d play during the longer drives. Jones wasn’t a bad guy entirely. He wasn’t particularly rotten, at least not to the core. He’d never kill a dog, for example, that would of course be wrong. Dogs...
I was but a boy when I first discovered the grove in the wood, or, perhaps, when it discovered me. I came across the path leading to it down from my grandparents’ house where I would often visit in the summer months, wild and free...
This is a true story. I know that’s cliché to say. In this day and age, claiming something incredible happened without video proof is a surefire way to make certain people won’t believe you. Everyone does it, though, especially in the realm of the scary...
There was once a farmer who lived outside the city of Erie, Pennsylvania. On a small hill overlooking his fields he built himself a little wooden house with thirteen steps leading up to it and a barn for his horse and tools. He was a...
I try to live my life without too many regrets. I’ve had highs and lows like everyone else, sure, but I do what I can not to worry too much about what could have happened if I’d made a different choice, if I maybe hadn’t...
My name is Kenneth Vilma. December 17, 2010, marked the third day of my escape from Grovenor Penitentiary in Crystalis, Michigan, and my second day in the Wolf Paw State Forest with another convict, Ron Heil. We’d been on the run since paying off two...
Asphalt tires glided us along the black sea of the Interstate. My vision had become blurry, tired from the constant repetition of the white line, a dotted Morse code along the center of our path. We’d spent several days in Memphis: tourists indulging in the...
A curious case emerged in the fall of two thousand four. A man, aged nineteen, was found dead of an exhaustion-induced heart attack. The man, believed to be a casual user of methamphetamine, described his gradual descent into mental instability due to chronic insomnia, suffered...
If one were to drive southbound from the historic city of Durham, following the winding roads through the old pit villages, you would eventually come to a quiet road, shadowed by the presence of trees. Before long the road will widen to half-reveal a turning...
When I was a kid, I used to love it when my granddad came to visit. He was a big man, tall and stout and loud, with a huge bushy beard and a booming laugh. He wore an eyepatch over his left eye, and in...
I’m an EMT in my childhood hometown of Hillhaven, Montana. There’s only one hospital worth the name in the whole county, Hillhaven General, so when I moved back into town after ten years living in Helena, that was the only real choice for a freshly-licensed...
I had my first trip to the dentist last week. I do mean first, too. I don't think I ever went growing up. Mom said baby teeth didn't matter since I was going to lose them anyway, and the little dentists would protect my permanent teeth...
I bought a new house last month. It’s a lovely little place. It’s rustic, homey, remote—everything I wanted. The man I bought it from built it himself forty-five years ago. He told me that. He told me everything about it, from the depth of the...
Back in 1956, I signed up for a psych experiment in college. They had a float tank, one of those sensory deprivation chambers, and they needed people willing to be closed up in it. Easiest experiment in the world, as far as I was concerned. All...
I’ve read that your hair and fingernails keep growing after you die. Then again, I’ve also read that that’s stupid, and that actually what happens is that your skin contracts, making your hair and nails look longer. That one always seemed more reasonable to me....
My name is Aramis Churchton. On December 14, 2004, I came to the town of Belconsin, Maryland, in order to spend a night in a tenantless house on a quiet road. It was a three-hour drive from the western part of the state, and I...
Arnold Willis slowly opened his eyes, dreading what he would see. The small alarm clock on the nightstand read a merciless 5:58 a.m. The sterile hospital wall came into focus behind the clock, in sharp contrast to the brightly-colored balloons which floated at the edge...
October 6th, 1853 When I set out for Port Humber, I had not imagined that this would be where I met my death. Indeed, I must confess that I had always imagined myself beyond death in a sense. Not above it, no. One of the few...
This is a story told to me by my dad about his dad, Julius Bentley, who worked as a conductor for the old Mid-Northern Railroad. My Grandpa was the conductor on a train called the Highball Mail back in the 1950s. It was a train...
People in my hometown don’t talk about what happened during the summer of 1969. Urban legends, unsolved mysteries and tragedies can be found in the history of any small town in the world and mine is no different, yet those who remember the checkered clown...
