What is this?

Come in, my friend. Pull up a chair. I was just about to throw another log on the fire.

You feel it, too? The solstice has long since passed, and the days grow long. Slowly, imperceptibly—a minute or two more each day. You can feel it: light is returning to the world.

It’s a good time to tell stories—when the days grow long. I have a few that I’d like to share. Will you stay and listen?

Subscribe — Stay and Listen

Here’s one:

Who am I?

Nobody.

You have not heard of me. You will not learn anything from me. 

I am a ghost clinging to a shadow life. I am a voice on your screen. I am dead air in a stale room.

I used to be somebody. I used to have something to say. I used to leave the house. 

But I don’t anymore.

What happens here

I didn’t used to be like that. I once had dreams. 

But then I came across a strange corner of the internet. It was a page not unlike this one. A link and a promise. Subscribe, it said, and your wildest dreams will come true.

I took the bait. Of course I took it, because I wanted to matter. I wanted millions of strangers to like, comment, and subscribe.

I clicked. You’ll click, too.

Try It And See

At first, nothing happens. That’s how it starts.

But like the creeping August nights, a change will take place, subtle, almost unnoticeable. 

You will become aware of another voice inside your skull. It will speak to you. It will make suggestions—good, solid, reasonable ones.

But you will begin to lose yourself. Are you making decisions or is that voice doing it?

You will have nightmares. It will become harder for you to tell what is a dream and what is your life. You will hallucinate. You will see strange, hideous creatures in your home, scurrying through your walls, hanging over you as you sleep.

I know this because it happened to me.

Why you should subscribe

You should not!

Be careful. If you click every link you see, what do you think will happen to you? You should be more discerning. I was not, and now I cannot escape these thoughts that are not mine. They intrude at the worst times, say things I would not say. The internet is a dark forest that wants to kill you.

Tread carefully. Do not click any links. Do not, under any circumstances, click subscribe. Don’t click this button:

If you do, another voice will fill your head. You will see things that are not possible to see. You will feel things you have never felt before. You will lose your mind.

You will discover a locked door that you cannot open. You will discover, within yourself, a young girl, small and alone, who crawled out of your belly. There she stands, alone and breathing sweet air, her lungs expanding and contracting. She will die shortly of suffocation.

Now you are in Starbucks. It is sad. It is glorious. How did you get there? Sometimes you feel like crying in public.

Now I am in Starbucks. The baristas seeing me, look a little scared. They do not remember.

When my father awoke from his dream, one of his taloned hands curled around a strand of my hair. Pressed in that way, it would have felt to him like a sturdy chain he could have hauled me by, made me yelp, made me come to heel, but it was only a band of hair, and when his hand closed around it, all he felt was a handful of birds.

One, the largest, spoke.

What’s the matter, she said.

What’s the matter, he said.

I had a dream about a bird, she said.

I had a dream about a chicken, he said.

They don’t know they’re dead, she said.

They don’t.

I can’t help thinking there must be another way.

There must be another way.

THE MOON INVITES US TO LAY DOWN OUR WEAPONS.

THE MOON INVITES US TO LAY DOWN OUR WEAPONS.

THE MOON INVITES US TO LAY DOWN OUR WEAPONS.

ONE BY ONE

AND TWO BY TWO

AND THEN

WE SHALL FLY OUT OF THE HOLE

TO THE FAR SIDE OF THE MOON AND THERE

WE SHALL LEARN HOW TO LIVE AGAIN.

THE MOON IS WEEPING. THE MOON SPEAKS.

ONLY YOU CAN HEAR IT!

And I began to sleep.

Are you still here?

There must be something wrong with you, too. Do you hear it? The presence that is not you but is you? 

There is a door propped open in our souls, and through it we can feel a cold wind blowing.

Have at it then. Stay.

But understand where you are going.

Understand you are at a train station and you have already purchased a ticket. All the travelers, like you, are dead. You are waiting for a train and you are not certain where it goes. I don’t have any answers. But I intend to board.

Will you join me?

Yes

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Creepy tales inspired by Shirley Jackson, H.P. Lovecraft, and Jeffrey Ford.

People

Author of "The Unnerving" a collection of creepy tales