The graffiti was unlike any he had ever seen. Though just chicken scratches, it stood out from all the rest and as he stared, words began to become visible, and then a pattern developed; like one of those magic eye posters at the mall he’d seen as a child. He’d stare at the pixelated bits of nonsensical color, only to be surprised when an image of a sailboat would appear.
He forced his mind to focus, remembering that to see the hidden image you had to do the opposite of stare at the picture. Instead, you had to zone out, and let your eyes rest. It was easy to do in his almost double-vision drunken and loaded state.
Slowly, letters manifested, and then a full sentence.
“Return to the place where no one can hear you scream…”
This article contains information on inhabiting your world with the “facehugger” from the Aliens series of movies. Included are: Anatomy, Combat statistics, and recommended sanity losses for encountering them.
Welcome! You’re just in time to witness the birth of a new horror …
As a worldly man, I thought that I understood it all. After my errors and indiscretions, I accepted my reassignment as a gentleman’s exile. When I met Lastri in the Market District and took her back to my company apartment, I wore my wedding ring and even left the photo of Lorraine and Jenny on the nightstand, just to be clear what kind of arrangement this was. When she finally stopped following me after I broke it off, I assumed that she realized there was no ticket waiting for her if and when I was finally welcomed back. Continue reading »
As you read this, I pray I have slipped into oblivion. No longer can I believe in a Heaven.
It is with a heavy heart I must pass onto you a terrible, yet necessary, responsibility. I, as my father before me, and his before him and so forth, have carried on, in secret and shadow, a crusade to protect humanity from destruction of body, mind and soul.
originally published American Atheist Magazine 1998
For nearly five years I have brooded a ghastly and horrifying secret. A secret so dark and blasphemous, it blurs the edges of my consciousness and tinges my every thought with stark blue terror. When I sleep, it haunts my being and stains my nightmares the dripping, blood red of madness. And now it seems my unwholesome labors have brought forth a dreadful and appalling issue.
At first a bothersome thing, the bug noise became a lulling rhythm of nature for Pike Ansblath. He accepted the ruffled whistle as part of summer. One night, while lying on the couch, Pike tried to pin down what the noise sounded like. It was, he determined, basically a whistle … with a little ripple effect. A neighbor who overheard it one day likened the sound to a muted chirp. Yeah, he could see that. Continue reading »
I never should have let Jesus in. When you allow something in, you risk infection.
“And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; if he does, the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost, and so are the skins; but new wine is for fresh skins.”
Once I let Jesus into my heart he wouldn’t stop talking in my head: parable after lesson after reproachment, repeat, and all in a surprisingly brusque voice. My childhood memories are infected with it since first communion. The shockingly mocking voice. The voice was the first warning of a danger that I was too young to heed. The second sign of danger was the vision I received, not from God divine but a hateful god infernal—the threat of interdimensional demons borne of horror so old and unnamable that the Lord Himself is inaudible, replaced with a chaotic choir of cosmic dread in a thousand R’lyehian moans.
“Ya stell’bsna chtenff hupdgh n’ghft!” Continue reading »
As part of his payment, Grigor sat through the anguish of having his Adam’s apple branded with a dirty needle covered in ash and urine tied to an ancient split twig. His vocation is now official, with the death’s of the snitch’s family he is now a murderer for hire.
In 1919 the Soviets take Russia. One of the first thing they do is essentially eliminate crime. They did this with over four million Russian citizens convicted for a wide variety of crimes. This breaking of the criminal element of Russia forced them to evolve. It forced them to become hard. It forced them to organize. It forced them to form the вор в зако́не (Thieves of Law). Continue reading »
Not everyone has had the good fortune to see through an- other’s eyes. But before you’ve misunderstood me, and taken for a cliché what in the author’s mind had been conceived with a true originality, await attentively that part of the story in which the opening line finds its immaculate consummation, and above all patiently, for it seems to me certain as a matter of fact, that in fact—not everyone has had the good fortune to see through another’s eyes