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Around The Bend

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.…


“Wake … up … you must … wa-“. That’s when it stopped. Those were the last words the tall, dark figure spoke to me when a white curtain fell over all that I saw, covering the previous scenery with an endless sea of snow.

My pupils slowly started to open, only to see the full moon’s reflecting light upon my pale face. I started to shiver, the ground felt cold against my back, my head ached terribly and my hands were all covered in blood and mud. I freaked out, I couldn’t remember anything, and how the hell did I end up in a forest? My heart started to pound like a big bass drum, but – to my surprise – the anxious beating pattern didn’t last long. It’s funny that even though I can’t remember my own name I could still recall my chickenhearted disposition.

Darkness can be really terrifying, especially when you’re alone… or in a forest… or in a forest all by yourself where the pine trees stretch out as if they were trying to talk to the ricochet of stars in the sky. Finding myself all alone, I decided to find the nearest road out of this hell, but for a moment I was unsure whether this was truly Hell or not, because normally, under these circumstances I’d be scared to death, but strangely enough, I somehow … felt to be “in the right place”.…

The Soldier

Part 1:

I can hear the screams of men, and gunfire. I can smell their fear. They know something is in the dark, something strange, menacing, and very, very hungry.

Oh God-blam-the fuck is that-blamblam- It hurts-blamblamblam-please don’t-blamblamblamblam-Noooooooo- blamblamblamblamblamblam……

I wake trembling in a cold sweat, sheets tangled around my legs. A few feathers drift lazily through the air from where I can see my pillow ripped open, lying against the far wall. I look across the bed to the nightstand, the green LED lights telling me it’s 4:30 A.M. It was the dream again, the same dream. I glance reproachfully at the remains of a fifth of whiskey and a half empty bottle of sleeping pills lying on its side by the clock. They’ve never kept the nightmare from me before, but I still have hope that it’s just a question of finding the right quantity.

My hands still slightly shaking; I grab the bottle and take a healthy swallow, then drop it empty to the puke-green colored carpeting that passes as decoration in my bedroom. It burns, but that’s just fine. Knowing I will never get back to sleep and with only another thirty minutes before I had set my alarm to wake me anyway, I throw on coffee and jump into the shower.…


Edgar raised his head up from his chest; back pressed firmly into his favorite recliner, his entire body drenched in cold sweat. He stared into shadows at the edge of the living room, eyes welling with tears as he lifted the revolver slowly and deliberately to his temple. “Seventeen”, he whispered to the darkness.

The index finger of his right hand had already found its perch on the trigger during the weapon’s ascent, during which he had hesitated no more than a second, his only concern ensuring that the angle he chose would prove fatal. He clenched his left hand into a fist at his side, steeling his will. He inhaled sharply. And with further need of neither breath nor will, he clenched his right hand.

Darkness flashed brilliantly to light from the barrel of a .38 Special, as the gunshot’s dull thunder echoed around the room. The remains of Edgar Freeman slumped sideways in what had once been his favorite chair. The other man with him in that chamber smiled softly, the one in the shadows who had been briefly illuminated by the muzzle flare, that sallow man in the dark suit with the pale blue eyes. He smiled as everything turned gray.…

Can’t Help Fate

“I never was a huge fan of myths, legends or any folksy wisdom for that matter. Spooky stories to tell around a campfire had no value to me, except good entertainment of course. You know, a man can spend his whole life living in ignorance, maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be … but sometimes, one is yanked into the unknown without a reason, facing consequences larger than life! Would you call that fate doctor?”

With his legs spread over the firm matrices covering the floor and walls of his prison, a tormented man gazed into the glasses of his doctor. His arms, squeezed tightly into a straitjacket, wrapping his torso mercilessly, making it hard to breathe, let alone talk. Yet, he found the strength to let his thoughts out of the head whose nightmares carved dark, blue circles around the sunken, hazel eyes.

“Mr. Smith, the only way to put an end to Your episodes is a good night sleep. You are experiencing sleep deprivation, leading to hallucinations, common when the brain is more than 3 days without a rest”

With a syringe full of sedative in his right hand, the young doctor paid little attention to the words of his patient, quivering to the sight of it.…

Screaming Jenny

The old storage sheds along the tracks were abandoned shortly after the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad was built, and it wasn\’t long before the poor folk of the area moved in. The sheds provided shelter – of a sort – although the winter wind still pierced through every crevice, and the small fireplaces that the poor constructed did little to keep the cold at bay.

A gentle, kindly woman named Jenny lived alone in one of the smaller sheds. She had fallen on hard times, and with no family to protect her, she was forced to find work where she could and take whatever shelter was available to someone with little money. Jenny never had enough to eat and in winter her tiny fire barely kept her alive during the cold months. Still, she kept her spirits up and tried to help other folks when they took sick or needed food, sometimes going without herself so that another could eat.

One cold evening in late autumn, Jenny sat shivering over her fire, drinking broth out of a wooden bowl, when a spark flew from the fire and lit her skirts on fire. Intent on filling her aching stomach, Jenny did not notice her flaming clothes until the fire had burnt through the heavy wool of her skirt and began to scorch her skin.…


The bell on the door chimed softly as Joe entered the small flower shop. Sandra was pissed at him for working late again; she’d made that much clear when he’d rolled in past ten last night.

Who is she, Joe?

Who is who?

The woman you’re screwing.

What are you talking about, Sandy? You know I have the Brinkman proposal to finish by next week. It’s requiring more time and effort than Bob anticipated when he signed us up for the damn thing.

That’s great, Joe. What about time and effort for me, huh? Remember when I used to warrant some of that?

Sandy, I…

Save it. Just…forget it. I’m fine. I have a headache.

She’d gone to bed shortly after that, leaving him to day old takeout and late night talk shows, and wondering how things had gone so wrong. They’d grown up together and Sandra was the first girl he’d ever really fallen for, right around the time most boys stop viewing girls as vectors for the dreaded cootie virus and instead as objects of vague worship and, perhaps, abject terror. When he nervously asked her to junior prom he was surprised when she’d immediately said yes. Ten years later, through college and law school and marriage, they were still together, at least in a legally binding sense.…

Zippy The Elf

Have you ever heard of Elf on the Shelf? It was a children’s book released in 2005 that follows an elf who reports to Santa on who’s been naughty or nice. Later on they made it into t.v. movie and now it’s a really popular game with kids around Christmas time. I’ll never forget that elf. The one that terrorized me only a few weeks ago. I consider it a miracle I’m still here today to tell you about it.

It all started the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday. I had just gotten home with my family: mom, dad and my five year old brother Carson. We had been shopping all morning. You know, waiting in line trying to get the good deals, that whole thing. When we arrived home, I was the first one to open the door and that’s when I saw it. There, on the coffee table in our living room was a bright, shiny red elf just staring at me. I froze. That wasn’t there when we left? How did it get there? I was pushed through the rest of the door by my brother who saw the elf but with a much happier reaction. He ran to grab it when my mother came through the door and yelled “CARSON STOP!” My brother froze and looked back at her in confusion, I did as well.…


Mark sighed and looked out at the night sky. He was standing on the roof of his apartment building, four stories up. Sometimes Mark just liked to stay up here and reflect, it was quiet and peaceful. Looking down you could see the normal hustle and bustle of city life but if you looked up you could see the beautiful sky, and sometimes even a full moon or some stars.

Mark walked along the border of the roof that helped keep him from falling to his death. It was pretty late so he should be going back down to his apartment soon. Then he saw something waving in the wind a few meters away. Mark walked over to it and picked it up, seeing that it was today’s newspaper, and began to read the front page:


Earlier today John Parker, age 20, was found dead near the northern woods. His family stated that he never had any real enemies, but he was a bit of a troublemaker. Still they did not know who would want him dead. His death seemed to be caused by blood loss. The scars seemed to be from a large animal, but that was later found not to be the cause as a symbol was found carved on the man’s forehead.…

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