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Vanessa stared into the darkness from within the safe confines of Ethan’s truck. The house in the distance was a looming nightmare, a crowning achievement to whatever dark horror gods had actually crafted it from wood and mortar…

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This was Aaron Cordon’s facility, so it was a mix of expense combined with practicality. The billionaire made sure they had what they needed, but without any extras. Shane likened the man’s character to a spoiled twelve-year-old with way too much money, but that was the personality of billionaires; they didn’t live in the real world…Not that it mattered much. Shane would never get to meet the man…

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Your great, great grandmother only lived to be sixty-three. On her deathbed, she told your great grandmother that she had been cursed by an old woman from the old country, cursed during a “picture show” back when silent films were black and white. This was back during a time when there was a cinema announcer reading off of cards, back when someone played the piano in the background during the film…

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He could see it now, and it was big. It was at least eight-feet-tall, a couple feet shorter than him, and it was slenderer than him, but it was definitely humanoid, probably some type of giant like himself. It was covered in dark fur or hair, and its face had the rough semblance of a man, but he had never encountered anything that looked even remotely like it…

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He looked behind himself to view the brightly-lit ground where his shadow would be. The sun was beating down upon the both of them, and in fact, that celestial orb was beating down upon the entire town of White Cross, yet he had no shadow…

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This man was tall, a little over six feet, but she could not make out any features save for his broad shoulders, the rough outlines of a business suit, and his fedora. He was so cloaked in darkness that he looked like living shadow, but this was not what spiked her adrenaline to new heights. It was the black outline of a long, sharp knife in his right hand that did that…

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There would be many guests today; yes, many guests. They would all be waiting for a portion of his delicious beef pies spiced with cloves, the crust mixed with pumpkin. It was his grandmother’s recipe, a recipe as old as Methuselah, and he was determined to follow it to the letter…especially today…

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He swiveled to look behind himself, peering past all three of his companions, but there was no door anymore. The rusty, grey, metal door was gone, replaced by a horizon of darkness lit by long, flickering, fluorescent lamps, an endless parking garage. It was as if they had walked through a rift portal, but his helmet VI hadn’t informed him of such, so that couldn’t be it. He had no idea where they were…

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This story has been published in The Bloody Twine Selection #1 and is unavailable to read.

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The older boy’s blue eyes were wide as he nodded twice in eerie confirmation, a freaky grin on his face, but Arnie still had no idea what Casey was talking about. Arnie had never heard of any “Witch’s Isle” or any “spooklights.” In fact, he suspected this was just a prank anyway. Older boys liked to scare younger boys, especially at summer camp. It was an initiation thing…

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