The Curious Incident in June

March 17, 2026

by Reymundo

2 min read

Story Premise 2 min read (259 words)

"In the summer of 2010, I was in fifth grade, spending my afternoon at home. I was on my laptop, exploring a virtual pet game that allowed players to adopt and care for various animals. The weather was warm, typical for the season, when suddenly, I felt a strange chill creeping along my back. The […]"

In the summer of 2010, I was in fifth grade, spending my afternoon at home. I was on my laptop, exploring a virtual pet game that allowed players to adopt and care for various animals. The weather was warm, typical for the season, when suddenly, I felt a strange chill creeping along my back. The rest of the room felt perfectly fine, but this icy sensation was unmistakable.

I turned around, half expecting to see an open window or a fan blowing cold air, but nothing was there. Hesitantly, I reached back to touch the spot where I felt the coldness, and my hand met an invisible barrier. Startled, I froze in place. At that moment, the cursor on my screen began to move on its own, clicking and dragging the virtual pets into my inventory.

Soon enough, the program opened a chat window, and to my shock, it identified itself as PetPal_42. I watched in disbelief as messages began to appear on the screen, typing away at high speed, responding to other players in the chat. Panic surged through me, and I bolted out of the room, heart racing.

Days passed, and I tried to forget the incident. One afternoon, I walked back into the living room and noticed my laptop was on again, displaying a page filled with colorful pet images. Curious yet cautious, I approached it. Just as I got close, the screen flickered and went black. The next day, my brother sat down to play his game, unaware of the mystery that lingered in our home.

Related Horror Movies to Watch

Kisah Tanah Jawa: Pocong Gundul

2024

Katarsis

1960

Zombie Massacre

2002

Paranormal Bad Trip 3D

2014

Leave a Comment Cancel reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

The Gilded Canary

When I was nine, we moved into a rambling Victorian house that had been converted into two flats. Our flat was on the top floor, and the only way to reach it was a narrow, winding staircase that creaked like a ship in a storm. My parents, ever the antiquers, had brought with them a […]

The Corvid’s Gift

The first Tuesday of June 2000 found me driving through the outskirts of Inverness, my thoughts as grey as the overcast sky. Two weeks had passed since I’d lowered my father into the ground, and the world still felt muffled, as if I were hearing it through layers of wool. My job at the distillery […]

The Pane in the Rain

My best friend, Maya, and I had been inseparable since we were kids. We shared everything: secrets, snacks, and even a homemade Ouija board that we never dared to use. When her family moved to the other side of the country, I was devastated, but I had my sister, my brother, and my parents to […]

The Wall Between

It was a small, tidy house on the edge of town, its red brick facade worn smooth by years of rain. We moved in when our daughter, Lila, was two, and now she was six. The house had a peculiar layout: the only bathroom was at the end of the hall, directly across from Lila’s […]

The Statue in the Corner

My brother Fintan and I grew up in a cramped flat above a defunct fishmonger’s in the port town of Ballymore. The building smelled of brine and rust, and the walls were thin enough to hear the sea when the wind was up. We shared a room that faced the harbor, and our window looked […]

The Cellar of Unfinished Steps

In the autumn of 1983, I was fifteen, living with my aunt Doris and uncle Hal in their sprawling split-level house in rural Minnesota. The house was a maze of half-levels and unexpected rooms, with a musty basement that stretched beneath the entire structure. My aunt had a habit of collecting old furniture and forgotten […]

The Sunroom’s Shadow

I was twenty-two, four months pregnant with our first child, and living in a converted Victorian on the edge of Meridian Creek, a town so small the postmistress knew everyone’s middle names. My husband, Caleb, and I had rented the ground floor of an old house that had been split into two apartments. The upper […]

The Linoleum Map

The house on Hemlock Lane had a linoleum floor in the kitchen that was peeling up in the corner, revealing a pattern of faded brown and ochre diamonds that looked like some ancient, forgotten map. I was eleven that summer, and my mother had moved us there to be closer to her new job at […]

The Last Pencil

The first time I noticed the pencil was during Mr. Harlow’s third-period algebra class. It lay on the floor by the radiator, a plain yellow Number 2 with the eraser worn down to the metal. I remember thinking it was odd, because no one sat near there; the desk had been empty since Jerry Voss […]

The Empty Kitchen

In the autumn of my fourteenth year, I lived with my family in a creaky old farmhouse on the edge of a dying town. My parents, pragmatic souls, had bought the place for a song, ignoring the tales the locals whispered about the previous owner, a bitter old man who had hanged himself in the […]

The Last Train to Rathlin

It was the summer of 2003 when I first saw the obituary in the local paper. Old Mr. Callahan, the man who’d played the irascible postman in the long-running series ‘Harbour Lights’, had passed away. I’d watched that show every Sunday night with my gran, and his gruff voice and knowing wink were as familiar […]

The Blue Crayon

My name is Evelyn, and this begins in the winter of my junior year. I was obsessed with old parlor games, anything that promised a glimpse beyond the veil. My grandmother had left me a dusty, leather-bound book of spiritualist practices, and tucked inside its pages was a faded, hand-drawn ouija board on a scrap […]