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Tag Archives: murder

I don’t celebrate Halloween. When the trick-or-treaters come out and start prowling my street, I make sure to keep my front porch light off, and pull the shades down. If someone rings my doorbell despite all my precautions, I hide in the bedroom and pray they don’t ring it again. There’s always a fear that maybe it’s not a child in a ninja turtle mask or wearing a sheet over their head.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s Granny Clark. Read More »


Originally posted on /r/nosleep.

A year ago, I went to visit an old friend of mine from college named Chris. He lives in Connecticut with his wife Susan and their son Todd. The plan was for us to hang out for a few days, so they had promised to prepare a guest room for me.

When I arrived, Chris took me aside.

“I know we promised you the guest room,” he said quietly, “but something’s come up. Susan’s Uncle John just got divorced and she offered him a place to stay until he can find an apartment. He won’t be in our way, but I had to let him have the guest room.”

“No problem,” I said, “where am I sleeping then?”

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First posted to r/nosleep here.

I know this story is going to sound wholly unbelievable and outrageous, but I can’t keep quiet about it anymore. I don’t care if nobody believes me. Maybe some day, some one will read it and recognize that we didn’t stumble blindly into the dark, that there was one person who warned everybody. A modern day Cassandra if you will.

This isn’t about me. This is about my friend Madelyn. Her fate is my fate, is your fate. We just need to learn to accept it. Amor fati if you will. It’s already begun, with a gentle tickling in the right lobe. You might not even notice it. Your eyes see words, the brain translates them, and the process begins.

But where does this story begin? Should I talk about when Maddy and I met? We got paired as roomies last year at UCLA. She was a psychology major. I was shy at first, kept to myself… a recluse. But Maddy… Maddy was different. She was full of a love for life I had never known. And she saw something in me, a spark if you will, that she wanted to fan into a flame. She refused to let me hide in our room on weekends, dragging me to every social function she could get invited to. By the time midterms came and the cramming began, we were inseparable. We shared everything. We were like sisters.

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Also posted on nosleep.

Look, I know this is probably the wrong place to write this, but I’ve been pacing for the past hour, wringing my hands, trying to think of what I should do, and I still don’t fucking know. I’ve got to get this written while it’s fresh in my head. Yes, I’m writing this anonymously… I’ve got to be careful.

I’m not sure where to begin, but I’ve just got to get this down. I went hiking this weekend. It was me, two friends from college and a girlfriend of one of them. I’ll call her Trish. The guys were James and Matt. Trish was Matt’s girlfriend. I’d never met her before. She seemed nice enough. Like I said, I knew Matt and James from college. They were perfectly normal. I mean, James was still normal. Fuck, I’m getting ahead of myself. Read More »

The original story can be found here.

When I was ten, I played a late night game of flashlight tag with a bunch of neighborhood kids. If you don’t know what flashlight tag is, it’s the same as tag, but you play it in the dark, the person who’s “it” gets a flashlight, and they have to yell the name of the person they see with it in order to “tag” them. It was really cloudy that night, and most people had their curtains drawn, so it was the perfect level of darkness for hiding in.

The side of the street my house was on was skirted by a broad length of woods. That was basically the boundary for our side of the game. You could run through any yard, even go across the street and run through their yards, but you weren’t allowed to hide in the woods, because it was too difficult to find anyone in there, and it was very easy to trip over tree limbs or end up with poison oak. Of course, this rule was frequently and flagrantly ignored when people got too close to being caught. They’d duck off into the bushes for a few seconds, or run behind a group of trees to evade capture.

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