Creeping voices, nails on a chalk board- the closer it gets, the more your heart races with the chant’s drum;

One, two- I’m coming for you Three, four- better lock your door Five, six- can you hear my clicks? Seven, eight- you’re the one I really hate Nine, ten- I love your beautiful sin.

I was buried alive today. And judging by the fingers I now feel on my skin, I am not alone.

I tried to go to sleep at three o'clock in the morning, but he wouldn't let me sleep.

He would stare at me and sing creepy songs, and I just want him to stop already.

No no no wait Im sorry she said then right before she could say anything else he shot her head

The room echoed a profound silence but thousands of thoughts engaged in a never ending race of calamity. She was awake; the anxiety was greater than the fatigue.

They have been many rumors. About a man who was old and tries to kill people. Lived in the forest with none. Only birds, was old and grunt

In a dank mortuary corner; icily familiar. A son sleeps softly, soundly and silent.

I had always been afraid of the dark since I was young; I didn’t fear the creatures living under my bed (they never bothered me) but I hated the shadow that lurked around me after Mum went to bed. I hated his weight upon me, his phantom hands all over my body and, most of all, I hated feeling his acid breath drifting down the neck of my nightgown.

I slipped into my dark room naked and freezing. I hadn’t meant to fall in the pool at the rave and the bastards had stolen my clothes. I turned on the light and there stood mom.

This virus knew what it meant when they said ‘viruses aren’t living’. While they feverishly and predictably strove to ‘save lives’, this virus cooly and rationally saved it’s own.