A Visitor in September
It was the eyes that bugged me the most. Scribbled black ovals that looked as if a child had filled them in. When they first appeared on the figures face I couldn’t help but get close to the glass and stare into them. Every day the lines that filled those ovals would change.
Eat Worms Part II
We had to all notice it at the same time, because the four of us turned towards the front door in disbelief. This cold squelching noise emitting from the wooden frame. The type of noise you would hear when pressing your fingers into a moist putty or when you step across a wet carpet and it burps as your weight depresses the material. The noise seemed to grow louder and fill the silence in my head. I could feel it as a much as I could hear it. The symphony of the little wet drumbeats.
Jim Jupitor is a Bald Man
Outside a wren flew above the large window resting on its ledge with a twig in it’s mouth. No cries echoed out from the gray building, no sound of the hammer as it connected repeatedly against bone. The wren was entirely undisturbed.
Golden Petals
I have been driving ever since. Every night a new hotel after several hours on the road. I do not sleep, yet every morning when I open my hotel door I find a golden rose painted upon it. I cannot run any longer. Whatever is stalking me from that awful night I cannot shake. Instead today I have booked myself in a nice AirBnB on the outskirts of a small town. In the morning I expect a golden rose to be on the door, and I also suspect that I will be dead.
Eat Worms
“GROSS!” Matt exclaimed. I looked over his shoulders to see what it was. There on the dirt was a long worm flailing about. It didn’t look like a worm I had ever seen before. Little particles of sand stuck to it’s slimy purple body. Its ends thrashed violently as it was baking in the sun, probably would of died right there had Henry not noticed it. “I’ve never seen a worm like this. Max you ever see something like this?” Matt glanced at me and I could only shake my head. The worm was purple but also shimmered with this metallic gloom. It was extremely peculiar and I found that I didn’t have much input on the matter, but now I wished I had just stepped on it then and there and been done with the wretched little thing.
3:03 am
The following was found in journal entries of one Daniel Sullivan of Dorcester. I just want to post this here in case someone knows him. I have unfortunately found that the book mentioned and this journey Daniel seemed to embark upon has something to do with, but the book is no where to be found.
If you have any information at all please do not hesitate to reach out to me.
Spotlighting
The silence in the night offered no answers and he stopped moving altogether and stared wide eyed out into the darkness. Trying to listen for any sounds. As the silence around him settled in he thought he was just hallucinating. There was no way that was a real thing. He leaned back in the tree stand and looked down at the flashlight. He could only feel it in his hands, but even with the trigger pressed the damn thing would not shine.
I Wished for a Bottle of Wine
The path seemed to open up for me with every step
and as I moved forward I could tell that it was
in fact another room in front of me. I was
starting to be able to make out
a wall of the grey brick.
And Candles burning.
Lots of candles
aligning
the floors.
I was stu
ck