Through the files, there were instances going as far back as ancient Egypt. This creature had been in the human world for centuries. Amut, the Heart Eater, fated to consume the hearts of men who were evil and corrupt.
All across time the demon roamed, scraping its existence into the memory of mankind. But something was off about this log file in particular. 'Encounter Log No. 682-426-1991' it read. Where did this page come from, though? It was not in the database, nor in any files that had been scoured previously.
It had the normal redacted information for security measures,...
He ran into the room, his heart pounding and his clothes soaking wet. "How could you do this to me?" He screamed at Kelly who stood facing him with her arms crossed over her chest and wet red dress clinging to her body.
"Mark, you had a red carpet at your prom after party. DO you NOT think that thats getting a little out of hand?" Kelly responded.
"You don't know the pressure to stay in the public eye. You don't know what its been like for me for the past 6 months. I tried to stay like a normal...
woop first time here, wasted a minute.
It was cold dark, and raining like a son of a bitch, as I stared down at 3rd and 9th, watching cars zip by like ants in a miniature autobahn. I was waiting for a sign, anything to let me know, I was going to get it done. Tonight was the night, and I was shaking with excitement.
After about an hour, I saw it. A bright red car driving erratically, with a big white x on it's roof. It took a left down 3rd. I flew down the fire escape, off of...
I always felt like I was stuck in a bubble. Like the Pope in his vehicle. On display like the Queen of England. A goldfish in a bowl. Maybe it was my shyness or my wart on my left cheek. Maybe it was the lisp that made everyone return my greetings with a "What did you say?" Maybe it was my slumped back, the hump that made shopping for blazers so difficult.
"Who's in there?" small children would say, peering at me on a Sunday in the park. "Don't bother that nice man," their mothers would say. The mothers were...
They were listening.
"Have you noticed the children?"
"What about them?"
"They seem different, don't they? Since we moved here?"
"Hush. They'll hear you."
"They're all the way upstairs. They can't hear."
They were listening.
"Yes. Yes, I've noticed."
"Timmy asked me about strangulation today."
"What?!"
"You know. And Sally..."
"Yes. The, um. The incident with the-"
"The knife. Where did she get it? She can't reach the counters."
"I don't know."
"Something is wrong here, Susan. Something terrible."
"Dammit, John, these are our CHILDREN..."
"Are they? Are they, though? Look at their eyes, next time."
"What do we do?"...
I wonder. I really wonder. He always enjoyed pulling a fast one over me, he did. So I suppose this wasn't a surprise, even after all these years: he would have probably planned it all this time, ready to spring it over me, and watch my befuddlement. He did that all the time before, so why should he stop now?
Then again, that's probably me being paranoid. 'Ox bow lake'. What the hell does that mean? And why, on earth, did I have him- or her- there? It could be anyone of the many enemies I've made over the course...
The spotlight found her and then stayed still. Beneath it she trembled. Curled inwards. And then, becoming aware of her audience, the room of eyes watching her, she stretched out her arms, opened her mouth, and started to perform.
At first it was a slow dance, with the words of the song low and soft, gentle as a whisper. And then, as her confidence grew, as she started to enjoy it and believe in her ability, believe that these people actually wanted to watch and hear her, she started to speed up and the song became almost wild, a celebration...
I crept silently through then corridor, the occasional creak of the floorboards abruptly halting me in my path.
The hallway was lit up by a dim nightlight, glowing a soft orange hue in the blackness. My shadow flared up the wall as I passed, and slowly shrunk back into the all-engulfing shadows.
A turn of a corner later, and I came face to face with a door. A door, which, when opened, would answer all my questions. I placed my ear to the keyhole, and made my bets attempt to silence my breath, and slow my pounding heart beat, trying...
The gate closed behind them. Back to the land of the living, no walking into the light without a backward glance.
Angels watched the reluctant men, women and children hesitate, clutching hands with their loved ones, those that had passed on beforehand and had greeted them. Now comforting and advising it is the wrong time to stay. They were special, given a glimpse into heaven, a chance to alter their lives for good, inspire others that there is more to this life than most believe nowadays. They would return without the paralysing fear of death, they would welcome the last...
The gate closed behind them with a soft click. They crept along the grass, still wet from the afternoon rain, to the french doors. No lights were lit on this side of the house.
They stopped at the door and reached for the knob.
"He was supposed to leave it unlocked," one voice said behind a ski mask.
"Try the other one," another ski mask said.
The other knob turned and the door swung open, into an office. One wall was an inset bookshelf. And the second ski mask whispered she'd always wanted one of those.
"Marry a doctor, like...