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Around The Bend

8.14.15
11:37 AM

“Charlie, I’m detective Schultz. Do you know why you’re here today, son?” The detective gestured towards the unkempt sixteen year old boy, dressed in a loose blue sweatshirt adorning several holes and baggy jeans, his shaggy hair covering his forehead. The boy looked as if he hadn’t bathed in at least a week and the odor all but confirmed it. “Do you have any idea why I brought you in today,” the detective asked again.

Charlie slouched in his chair across from his interrogator, his arms folded at his chest. He stared blankly towards the middle of the table between them. “Is that you’re question? Are you asking if I know why I’m here?”

“Yes, Charlie. I’m curious if you know why you’re sitting in this room, talking with me.” The detective lifted a cup of coffee to his mouth and sipped, then sat it back down and gestured towards a second cup that he slid in front of the boy. Charlie continued to stare blankly and the detective concluded the boy would not talk. “Charlie, do you remember the night of the fifth? What you were doing?”

Charlie grabbed the coffee that was offered to him, but instead of drinking from it, he pushed it back towards the detective.…

BEN Drowned

Post #1 (Sept. 7, 2010)

Okay, /x/, I need your help with this. This is not copypasta, this is a long read, but I feel like my safety or well-being could very well depend on this. This is video game related, specifically Majora’s Mask, and this is the creepiest shit that has ever happened to me in my entire life.

Having said that, I recently moved into my dorm room starting as a Sophomore in college and a friend of mine gave me his old Nintendo 64 to play. I was stoked, to say the least, I could finally play all of those old games of my youth that I hadn’t touched in at least a decade. His Nintendo 64 came with one yellow controller and a rather shoddy copy of Super Smash Brothers, and while beggars can’t be choosers, needless to say it didn’t take long until I became bored of beating up LVL 9 CPUs.

That weekend I decided to drive around a few neighborhoods about twenty minutes or so off campus, hitting up the local garage sales, hoping to score on some good deals from ignorant parents). I ended up picking up a copy of Pokemon Stadium, Goldeneye (fuck yeah), F-Zero, and two other controllers for two dollars.…

I found you

4:23AM
I didn’t imagine it… I’m not fucking insane. My vision may have been distorted as a result of my excessive alcohol consumption, but I know what I saw. I know that it was real, I’ve been sat in a bath full of cold water for the past hour to try and shake the feeling of being covered in blood. Her blood.

– 5 hours earlier –

It must have been about 11pm when I stumbled through my front door. Perhaps ‘stumbled’ is an understatement. I quite literally collapsed from how mentally exhausted I was and all I wanted to do was sleep. It had been exactly 6 months since Hannah went missing and despite my efforts of distracting myself, I knew that it would take more than several vodka shots and the burning sensation that they left in my throat to stop me from thinking about her.

Hannah is my younger sister. She’s an introverted, yet somewhat jittery 16 year old that always looks unsettled – which is why I don’t believe that she ran away. No, she was kidnapped.

The last person that saw Hannah on the night of her disappearance was her friend as she was leaving the party that she was at, until I walked into my kitchen and saw her sitting on the floor tonight.…

The Asylum

My friends and I used to do a lot of geocaching after our senior year in high school. For those who don’t know what geocaching is, it’s essentially a worldwide scavenger hunt. People will select sites and conceal a “geo-cache” somewhere unobtrusive, then post GPS coordinates on geocaching websites where other searchers can download the cords and locate the cache. Usually, people who have found the object (often it’s a chest or something hollow) will leave a note or small personal memento for future searchers to find and appreciate.

There are several types of geocaches, and most of them are thematic in nature (i.e. scenic destinations, romantic sites, hard-to-reach areas, etc..) This story begins when my friends and I decided to try a series of purportedly haunted locales within about an hour’s drive of our hometown. It began innocently enough—most of the sites had “spooky” backstories that were, of course, entirely fabricated. So we had a great time scaring the piss out of each other and generally creeping ourselves out.

We’d begun searching after the sun had set to enhance the creep factor, but by around midnight, most of our large group had dwindled off and gone their separate ways. When we reached our last coord, there was just myself, Rebecca, Kevin, and Evan left, and we were determined to knock it off our list.…

I Found You

My eyes struggle to open.

I blink several times, trying to take in my surroundings. A stark white ceiling looms above me. Even from a distance, I can make out the little cracks that scour the surface; hundreds of tiny passages into darkness. Shifting around a bit, I feel the starchy sheets beneath my outstretched hands. They feel stale and unwashed. Unsurprisingly, the rigid mattress beneath me is no more comforting.

I slowly lean up and glance around the room. It’s dimly lit – a single desk lamp rests on a table in the far corner. A few books are strewn across the table’s surface, none of which are recognizable from where I’m sitting. The table looks worn down, as if it’s been there for decades. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the wall next to me. Its covered in black etches and scribbles. My eyes wander across the remaining walls, but I soon look away. The same markings enshroud the entire room.

I begin to sift through my memories, trying to remember what could possibly bring to me to such a place. But, to my horror, I can recall nothing. Scarce images float to the surface, yet nothing concrete enough to be considered sensible.…

Leo

Doctor Avraham Strauss was confused. In a moment of clarity, he questioned why and how he had come to be walking down this particular corridor, in this castle, at this precise time. Red corridor, Colditz Castle, the middle of winter 1942. How could he, as a Jew, even have considered assisting the Nazis in this horrifying experiment? Yet, he could justify it using the fact that no one else would have given him the support or funding for his research. Yes, to the average person it might seem like a crime against nature, but he knew better. He was creating new life. A new race, a new species for whom war and violence would no longer be necessary.

The circumstances of where his laboratory had been located were unfortunate. Schloss Colditz had been appropriated by the Germans and put to use as a high security prisoner-of-war camp for officers who had become security or escape risks or who were regarded as particularly dangerous. Since the castle was situated on a rocky outcrop above the River Mulde, the Germans believed it to be an ideal site for a high security prison.

The larger outer court known as the Kommandantur, had only two exits and housed a large German garrison.…

Knock

We all have that one story, don’t we? The one you grow up thinking about, but never actually grow the balls to tell anyone. Well this is my story. I don’t know what I’m hoping to accomplish by telling you. Maybe I’m looking for someone to tell me that I’m not insane, or maybe once I put it on paper it will…Hell, I don’t know. Just someone read this…just please.

Let me give you a little background. Twenty years ago when I was eight years old, still living with my mom. My friend Dave and I decided that we would brave “The House”. Now, The House was an abandoned two story home, that had been empty going on ten years, save for the occasional drug abuser that would sleep in it. However that’s not what made this particular house special. The standing rumor is what made it interesting.

For as long as I can remember adults in my neighborhood had told us, the children, that it was haunted. I’m sure it was just their way of getting us not to play in it though. Regardless, because of that, the house had a sort of ominous aura that hung around it. Just looking at that decaying building would give you the shivers.…

Print

When I was young, I was always told the sounds I heard at night where made up. “It’s just a figment of your imagination” my Father would always tell me. But every night, as I layed tiredly on my stomach, covered from head to toe in blankets, I could have sworn I heard what almost sounded like someone tapping their fingernails across the floor of the attic above my bedroom. Whenever I heard it, (usually around the first night of every month) it would begin ever so quietly. It’d always start out with just a few taps, repeating themselves for hours some nights, and only seconds on others. That was usually enough for me to start jumping into my parent’s bed those nights. But, as I got older, my parents would start locking their bedroom door, insistent upon the belief that my imagination was just getting the better of me. But I knew something wasn’t right.
I usually would try to sneak out of my bedroom those nights. I’d wait silently under my covers listening until I heard the latch of my parents bedroom shut closed.

Then I’d silently sneak downstairs and sleep on the couch those nights, just to avoid the noises coming from the attic.…

The Lunch Lady

I was always afraid of the lunch lady when I was a kid.  I don’t know why; maybe it was the toxic stench of her breath, or the dead look in her eyes, or the unkempt hairs dangling off her chin.  No matter what the reason was, my palms grew sweaty and my heart pounded every time I passed her in the lunch line.  I never felt quite at ease until I had left the cafeteria, and even then I still was worried I would catch sight of her in the hallway between classes.

One day I got into a fight with another kid named Jeremy, and we both received detention.  It was his fault really.  I had been passing him in the hall when he quickly stuck out his foot in front of mine and sent me sprawling to the ground, all my books flying through the air.  Samantha, the girl I had a crush on, happened to be standing in the hallway when it happened, and she joined everyone else in laughing and pointing at me.  My rage got the best of me, and Jeremy and I were soon throwing punches at each other.  After the teachers broke up our fist fight, we were sent to the principal’s office. …

Positively Writhing

A dream of pale, flesh colored thread.

I blinked back the darkness encompassing my vision, revealing again the dusty room we had been biding our time in. I must’ve fallen asleep, and the Sun was now dead, the window revealing night blanketed over the countryside. The moonlight casted shadows of corpses of forests and dead verdure, the sheets of snow reflecting the light with a strange sheen.

The musty scent of moth-eaten chairs and aging wood was dry in my lungs as I inhaled it, causing me to sneeze. The noise was loud, echoing throughout the spacious living room, and the interruption reminded me of the silence of the place, a midnight graveyard filled with the absence of life. I got up off the wooden chair, scratching my freshly dyed blonde hair, and went over to my bag. I pulled out my vial of klonapin, and I could feel the dismay etch into my face as I realized it was empty. I subconsciously began picking the scab on my wrist at the thought, peeling it off before I realized I had even done it.

Fuck. Fuck, what was I going to do? The last dose was probably flushed out of my system by now, what if something happened?…

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