The Lantern in the Cistern
My name is Elara, and I’ve always been fascinated by the stories that cling to our town like moss to stones. Not the sanitized versions told to tourists, but the...
My name is Elara, and I’ve always been fascinated by the stories that cling to our town like moss to stones. Not the sanitized versions told to tourists, but the...
It was a sweltering evening when Mei and her friends, along with their guide, Raj, rowed their boat into the heart of the Sundarbans. The dense mangrove forest swallowed the...
In the autumn of last year, my cousin Mira and I decided to explore the abandoned railway tracks on the outskirts of our town. Locals whispered about strange occurrences there,...
During the seventh lunar month, when the veil between worlds grows thin, my cousin Rina and our friend Akash convinced me to join them for a late-night walk along the...
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...
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...
Two winters ago, I was working the night shift at the Gilded Finch, a decaying hotel perched above the salt marshes, where the fog rolls in thick enough to swallow...
The predawn air clung to my skin like a damp shroud as I trudged along the narrow mountain path to the village school. The sky was a bruised purple, and...
For years, I’d kept my encounters with the unexplained locked away, but tonight I’m setting them free. My colleagues, Dr. Elena Marsh and Professor Thomas Reed, were respected in the...
My grandparents told me this story, and they swore it was true. It happened during their honeymoon in a quaint mountain town, at a bed-and-breakfast that had been converted from...
My grandmother, Elena, was the keeper of the story. She told it to me on the night before her funeral, her voice a dry rustle like leaves skittering across asphalt....
This is not so scary experience but a mild one. But still the questions remains same, how did it happen? FYI, I don’t use perfume neither my wife uses it...
It had been ages since I last set foot on this site, but the pull of the written word always drew me back. Our family has always been attuned to...
The summer I turned twelve, my family moved to the outskirts of a small town called Ashford, nestled in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Our new home was...
I never believed in ghosts. Not really. I had my rational explanations for everything: drafts, pipes settling, the mind playing tricks after too much caffeine and too little sleep. But...
It started with a single, rusted nail. I was twelve, the summer my family moved to the old Harbinger House, a dilapidated Victorian at the edge of a town that...
It was the salt-crusted ledger that first caught my attention. I had moved to the remote Norwegian island of Værøy to work as a night auditor at the only hotel,...
I remember the summer I turned twelve, the summer my family moved into the old shophouse on Lim Kim San Road. My father had inherited the provision shop from his...
The island of Karang Ancam, off the coast of a bustling Southeast Asian nation, was once a thriving fishing village called Kampung Damai. A mysterious fever, said to have been...
In 2019, I was house-sitting for my aunt while she was in the hospital recovering from a bad fall. She lived in an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere,...
The Ashworth house stood at the end of Maple Lane, a Victorian relic with a sagging porch and windows that stared like dull, dead eyes. My grandmother, Eleanor, had owned...
The summer heat clung to the walls of my mother’s cottage in the village of Ashcombe, a place where the thatched roofs sagged like tired shoulders and the air smelled...
The Painted Veil of Bedok The sun bled orange over the HDB blocks of Bedok, casting long fingers of shadow across the car park. It was 1987, and the estate...
The lighthouse at Blackfriar Point had been a fixture of my childhood, a lonely sentinel on a cliff overlooking the churning gray sea. My grandmother, Elara, had been its keeper...
Listening to the woods...
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