In retrospect John blamed the incident on his own suggestibility, and on the scrapbook. The previous owner, Henry Stode, considered himself to be a bit of an amateur historian, at least when it came to the house. He had inherited an overstuffed scrapbook from the previous owner, who had inherited it from another previous owner. The book was not organized in any way; it had originally been a photograph book, with clear pla...

Dad was at work. Mom was at the grocery store. Her sister Em was at a friend’s house. El sat on her bed, playing with her kitten, Shadow. El had a feather on a string, and tossed it out like a fishing line for Shadow to chase. Something sounded from outside the room. Shadow jumped off the bed at once, his attention no longer on the feather. He bolted out of the room and took a sharp turn into the hallway.  El followed him...

There was not much of interest in the market. It seemed to be simply people trying to get rid of their unwanted attic junk. Yet buyers picked up and examined rusted cutlery, books that had been soaked in water, videos and cassettes so ingrained with filth that it would be rather brainless to put them anywhere near a machine. General tat and junk that belonged on a waste tip, not still with a price on. So when Gerard Lawso...

The realtor described the place as a grand old dame of a house: a three-story high Victorian in a state of slight disrepair, built in 1897 but with so many random, period-inconsistent architectural details added on over the years (a deck over the front door, a mudroom added on the side, several of the larger rooms broken up with wallboard and framed for apartments) it did not qualify for the historical registry. People si...

“This isn’t how it has to be,” John told the big man holding the bolt cutters. “I’m tryin’ my best t’ hold everythin’ together, but…” He looked toward his wife. “Just look!!” Sobbing, he slowly lifted his free, undamaged hand and pointed. “Look what I come home to.” Blood was dripping from his hand and running in streams down his forearm. When he focused on the blood drizzling from his elbow, he felt waves of dizziness fl...

The van pulled up outside the house, its driver switching off the engine. Mrs. Lyson watched from behind a net curtain in her upstairs bedroom. It’s about time, she thought, watching as the plumber rummaged in the back of the van for his equipment. He was soon heading up the path and ringing the doorbell. She opened the door and allowed Bill Hollis to enter. They exchanged pleasantries, and Mrs. Lyson told him that the si...

How can I start this letter? My name is Walter Cole. I lived at 25 Maple Avenue, Greenwood Town, Maine. I’m not a native American, I moved here from Europe. Firstly, if you ever read this, go straight to the police. Of course, I know they won’t believe all this right away, but hopefully, they will start an investigation to reveal the truth. Down below, I tried to describe all that has happened to me as well as I could. It...

John held perfectly still as he leaned against the tree. The deer moved cautiously out of the trees onto the meadow. First, a doe with her fawn stepped out. Looking all around, walking sort of jerk, jerk, look. Finally, the rest followed, last of all came the buck. Still cautious, he stepped forward with authority, like when Dad came in for supper.Holding his breath, afraid anything might spook them john watched in wonder...

"I want them beheaded," she announced amidst the staggered crying of the women. "You want to cling to the barbaric ways of your heritage then you can appreciate drawing your last breath with your throat against the chopping block."More cries broke out, loud and pain-filled sobs that rang inside her ears. She would finally have the revenge she sought for so long. Recompense for the murder of her beloved family at last. "Th...

Andrea was frantic and distracted at work after she received the news of her mother though, and it only added to the stress of trying to keep it from her father. Especially, since he could always tell when something was wrong with her and her actions didn't help. She was all over the place as she tried everything to keep as much distance as possible from her to him. She spent most of the time in the back of the store "sor...

The wind gave a piercing howl, rattling the windows of Professor Jack Lange’s apartment. Jack lowered his book at the sound and stared out at the blowing snow."Wow, what a storm!" announced the disc jockey on the radio as if he, too, had heard it, "If you don't gotta go out, don't go."Jack turned off the radio. The storm had given him a rare day to himself, so he wasn’t especially unhappy about the weather. The campus was...

Jamestown Fort, January 1609 Sarah awoke in the dark. The first thing she noticed was the cold. It had seeped through the clothing she wore, through the blanket that she had wrapped herself in, through the very ground; reaching for her like the icy, cold fingers of death. She exhaled and watched her breath become visible in the grey, early light of dawn that crept through the cracks of the door. Immediately after the cold...

Suddenly, the warning of the tribal elder and Wasad’s explanation came rushing back to us. The entire, horrible truth came crashing down upon me in a rush. I realized that the body we had seen in the hole was indeed a ghoul. The images we had seen of the torture and execution were not an attempt by the Republican Guard to execute an innocent man, but an attempt to rid themselves of a scourge. We also came to the sickening...

Once packed, we had nothing else to do but hurry up and wait. Sam and I were conflicted about leaving. We felt that it was wrong that we were leaving Chris, but we had searched all over for him, the grunts had searched for him, but there was absolutely no trace. We kept hoping against hope that he would show up by random chance one day, but as the days went by and there was no Chris, we began to lose hope. Finally, the da...

At around 5 o'clock the next morning, I was awakened by Sam shaking my shoulder. “Dave, you need to get up,” he said. “What? What? Why? What's happening? What’s going on?” was my reply. “It's Chris,” Sam said. “He's missing; he's not here.” “What do you mean he’s missing,” I asked, sitting up. I wiped the sleep from my eyes, and I saw that Sam was speaking the truth. There was no sign of Chris. We hadn’t had any equipment...