In regards to the Yakutia Incident, much doubt has been placed on my official statements and testimony. The cynical among you have cited the slightest of contradictions in my accounts and even noted supposed tics in my body language as evidence of deceit. And so it follows that accusations have been made of criminal activity and cover-up. I have done my best to ignore these accusations since they are baseless and thus could not ever manifest into official charges. Yet, it has become clear to me in recent days that these conspiracy theories have generated undue curiosity in the incident, curiosity which could prove quite dangerous. As this was my chief concern when fabricating my statements, let me address the Yakutia Incident with utmost transparency. The truth, I hope, will deter further inquisition. … More The Yakutia Incident
Mt. Spire shone brilliant and white above the bristly pines. In the noontime sun, one could see the snow weep and the summer trails reveal themselves. It was a wonderful sight for any climber. However, Anna would consider it even more wonderful if she did not have to hike ten miles to actually get there. … More In the Shadow of Mt. Spire
Algonquin legends say the wendigo was once a man like you and me. Poisoned by greed and gluttony, the man turned into a pale, gaunt creature with sunken eyes, reaching limbs, and an insatiable hunger for human flesh. Always hungry, the wendigo searched constantly for its next meal. The truth, however, is much worse. … More Beware the Wendigo
The phone stared back, pale-faced, indifferent, and hauntingly static. In its screen shone the diffuse reflection of a man whose dark, unblinking eyes were ringed in purple. He bit his lip and chose his words. After a few fumbles of his fingers, he sent the message and stood waiting for a response… … More Gifts
This July, my mother turned seventy. She and I don’t get along too well, and that’s putting it lightly. In fact, we hadn’t spoken for two years. Regardless, seventy is a big number, so even if she was a cruel, manipulative bitch, I decided I owed her a visit. So, I stopped by her house … More My Mother’s Company
A Youtuber named Lucifer’s Nephew has just produced a narration for my story The Collector of Sorrows. If you liked the original story, take a listen to his video. Give him a sub and explore some of his other videos.
I call myself a collector of sorrows. As a teen, I felt alone and ignored. My classmates bullied me, and my parents spent most of their time at work. They didn’t have the time or care to hear how Brett pushed me on the playground or how Tommy joked about my big nose. After a … More The Collector of Sorrows
A while ago I posted a link to a Creepypasta story I wrote. Here it is again if you never read it. If you like H.P. Lovecraft, this is for you. I will tell this story only once. Pass it around. Alter it if you like. But once I am done with the story. I … More Makhar the Small
The other day I became gripped by the holy Halloween spirit and decided to write a short, scary story. Just today, the story has been posted on Creepypasta. Take a look here. If you’re interested in creepy children, crazy cults, and mysterious creatures, take a look.