The Catechism of Salt and Ash
It began with a smell—not the usual must of my grandmother’s house, but something deeper, like wet earth and burnt sugar. I had been staying there for a week, helping...
It began with a smell—not the usual must of my grandmother’s house, but something deeper, like wet earth and burnt sugar. I had been staying there for a week, helping...
It started two weeks after we unpacked our boxes in the refurbished paper mill, a sprawling complex that had been converted into a tech incubator. Our startup, a small team...
When Lena and I first saw the converted munitions depot, the rent was suspiciously low. The realtor, a woman with a nervous tic, kept mentioning the history of the building:...
My cousin Delia and I were six, the summer our mothers worked the late shift at the cannery. We stayed with our great-aunt Morgana in her crumbling farmhouse outside of...
The moment I stepped through the front door of the farmhouse, I knew something was wrong. It wasn’t the peeling paint or the way the floorboards groaned under my boots,...
I was nineteen, working the closing shift at a 24-hour diner off the interstate, a place that smelled of old grease and burnt coffee. My shift lead was a wiry,...
At seventeen, Marcus had worked the night shift at the Melvin & Co. distribution hub for six months. It was a monotonous job, packing boxes of industrial lubricants and listening...
My story takes place in the Cumberland Mountains of Tennessee, about 60 or 70 miles from Chattanooga. The summer of 2008 was a really hard one for me, my boyfriend...
It had been eleven years since I’d moved into the top-floor unit of the Meridian Residences, a sprawling complex that promised modern comfort and, more importantly, a fresh start. The...
For most of my life, I’ve kept a mental scrapbook of things that don’t fit the world’s tidy explanations. There are maybe a dozen pages in that book, but one...
I was eight when we moved into the flat on Hallway Nine, a narrow corridor in a block that smelled of boiled cabbage and damp plaster. My mother called it...
My fourth semester of graduate school at Aldergate University had eaten away at my sense of time. I was in the library’s basement, the ‘crypt’ as we called it, because...
The first time I noticed it was the summer I turned twelve. My family had just moved to Hollow Creek, a town that seemed to exist in a perpetual state...
Marta lived in a creaking old farmhouse in rural Kansas, miles from the nearest neighbor. The house had been in her family for generations, and she’d moved back after her...
The cellar of Oak Hollow House was less a basement and more a stone-lined crypt, its two chambers divided by a sagging wooden door that never quite closed. The air...
When we first laid eyes on Hollow Creek Manor, it was love at first sight. Nestled among ancient oaks and weeping willows, the dilapidated Victorian mansion exuded an eerie charm...
My father collected antique newspapers, and one rainy afternoon he showed me a yellowed page from an 1843 edition of the Larkspur Ledger. The headline read: ‘The Ellery Farm Slayings.’...
My old dog Buster had a habit that used to creep me out as a kid. Every night, when he padded from the kitchen to my parents’ bedroom, he would...
My name is Elara, and I’ve always been a bit strange. My older sister, Mira, was the one who opened my eyes to the paranormal. At first, I was terrified...
It was late October when we moved into the old farmhouse on Hemlock Road. The previous owners had left in a hurry, and the place had a musty, forgotten smell...
In the autumn of 1998, when I was sixteen, my family took a trip to the remote village of San Cipriano in the highlands of Central America. My father had...
In the humid, labyrinthine corridors of the Oasis Residence, a condominium that hugged the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur, Maya found herself confined to the penthouse suite she shared with her...
The rain had stopped an hour ago, but the asphalt still gleamed under the pale moon like a ribbon of wet coal. Lola Remedios drove slowly, her knuckles white on...
In the sweltering summer of 2006, I had just graduated from high school and moved into a sprawling, forgotten department store on the outskirts of Albuquerque, New Mexico. My cousin,...
Listening to the woods...
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