The fog rolled in thick that night, swirling around the house like a living thing, pressing against the windows as if trying to find a way in. Sarah stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at the photo album in front of her. The pages were …
On a rainy October night, four friends—Emma, Jake, Sarah, and Leo—gathered in an old, abandoned mansion that sat on the outskirts of town. They weren’t looking for trouble, just a little thrill. The legend of the mansion had always intrigued them. People said it was …
The next day, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. The garden party, the strange guests, and the host’s chilling words haunted me. Every sound felt too loud, every shadow too dark, and the world around me felt… unreal. I checked my phone for the …
I took a job working at a garden party, thinking it would be an easy way to make some quick cash. I imagined setting up decorations, pouring champagne, and maybe tidying up afterward. It sounded perfect—who wouldn’t want to work in a beautiful garden under …
The next few days were a blur of paranoia and silence. Jake hardly spoke to me, and when he did, his words were clipped, his eyes hollow. I couldn’t shake the sense that something darker was brewing inside him. One night, I woke to the …
It was a night like any other, or so I thought. Rain tapped softly against the windows of our apartment, the low hum of the city barely audible beneath the storm. My partner, Jake, was sitting on the couch, staring out into the rain with …
The room was swallowed by darkness, and Emily felt her breath hitch in her throat. She wanted to scream, to call for help, but no sound came out. Her body was frozen with fear, and her mind raced as the old man’s cold, raspy voice …
It was Halloween night, and the quiet little town of Westfield was buzzing with excitement. Houses were decked out with pumpkins, ghosts, and cobwebs, while the streets filled with children dressed as witches, superheroes, and monsters. Among them was Emily, a 12-year-old with an insatiable …
Crash. Darkness. Repeat. This time, something was different. I opened my eyes in my seat, the usual feeling of dread creeping in. But now, I wasn’t the only one aware of the loop. The stranger who had whispered to me on the 200th crash—he was …
I died on the same plane crash 244 times. It sounds like a bad dream, doesn’t it? But it wasn’t. It was my reality—an endless loop, a cursed fate I could neither escape nor comprehend. The first time, I boarded Flight 907 with the usual …