I sat there in the darkness, my heart pounding, the sound of his final breath still echoing in my ears. I didn’t need to look to know what I would find. His body was slumped beside me, cold and lifeless. The curse had claimed him, …
Today is my birthday, and the father of my child is going to die. Just like all of the others. The sun had barely risen when I awoke, my breath heavy, my skin damp with sweat. It wasn’t the excitement of the day—after all, birthdays …
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The empty chair, the shattered teacup, and the eerie silence that followed—it all felt too real. For days, I wandered through the house, hoping to find some explanation, some trace of her, but the place …
It was a night like any other, or so I thought. The clock had just struck 11:30 PM, and I was in the kitchen brewing my wife her final cup of tea for the night. She always had a cup before bed—something that had become …
I struggled to pull away, my heart pounding in my chest. Whatever had grabbed me, I couldn’t see it—but I could feel its icy grip tightening around my arm. The room felt like it was closing in, the walls bending and warping as though they …
It was a quiet evening, the kind of stillness that presses against your skin and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. I was home alone, sipping tea, lost in the pages of an old novel. The house was peaceful, every …
After the man disappeared, things became worse. The plants grew restless, their whispers turning into demands, louder and more insistent. They were no longer satisfied with animals, no longer satisfied with one person. They wanted more. I couldn’t sleep; I couldn’t think. Every rustle of …
It all started with the roses. Blood-red, with petals soft as silk, they grew larger and more fragrant than anything anyone had ever seen. Neighbors walking past my little garden would stop, marvel, and inevitably ask the same question: “How do you do it?” At …
It started with a strange phone call, one that everyone in the small town of Darville received at exactly midnight. The voice on the other end was static-laced, garbled, and yet the message was unmistakable: “You have 340 words left to live.” No one understood …
I woke up, gasping for air. Something was off—everything was off. My bed felt different, softer somehow, and the air in the room was thick, almost suffocating. The familiar hum of the city was gone, replaced by an unsettling silence. I reached for my phone, …