The Damp Hollow
Maya and I had just moved back to our hometown, a place we’d sworn we’d never return to. It was a town of sprawling oak trees and cracked sidewalks, where...
Maya and I had just moved back to our hometown, a place we’d sworn we’d never return to. It was a town of sprawling oak trees and cracked sidewalks, where...
At sixteen, I thought I understood fear. I had watched every horror movie, read every creepypasta, and believed I was immune to the supernatural. But the night we gathered at...
It was the summer I turned fourteen, and my family had moved to a small, dying town at the edge of the Great Basin. The house we rented was a...
This happened in the fall of 2009, in the old farmhouse my family inherited from my great-aunt Marguerite. She had lived there her whole life, alone after her husband passed,...
The desert stretched out like a tawny ocean, swallowing the highway in a shimmer of heat. My wife, Clara, and our son, Toby, had been patient through the endless miles...
It was a humid August night in 2013, and I was nineteen, living in a rented duplex on the outskirts of a small town in the Midwest. My room faced...
As a child, I spent my summers in my grandmother’s house, a rambling Victorian at the edge of a town that was slowly being swallowed by the pine forest. My...
My grandfather, Elias Vance, died in the autumn of 1987, long before I was born. He was a painter, known in our small town for his landscapes that seemed to...
I know what you’re thinking: another teenager with an overactive imagination, another story that’s probably just a nightmare blown out of proportion. But I swear on my grandmother’s grave—who was...
It was a bright, cold morning in early March when the idea first took root. My friend Marcus had been going on about this abandoned observatory out on the salt...
For three months, a heaviness had settled over our farmhouse on the edge of the Blackwood Forest. It started with small things: the clocks ticking out of sync, the dogs...
I never believed in ghosts, not until the autumn I turned sixteen and my parents moved us into the old farmhouse on Marrow Lane. The house had stood empty for...
Listening to the woods...
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