Find Stories (8)
When Emilia unlocked the door to Blackwood Manor, the grandfather clock in the foyer chimed thirteen times, though it hadn’t worked in decades.
The floorboards beneath her feet groaned in protest as she stepped inside, as if warning her that some things in Blackwood Manor were better left undisturbed.
In the forest deep there lived a man, his hair was white as snow - one fine morning he went hunting and shot a dear with his bow.
He dragged her body through the dirt and dressed her up in a bloodstained skirt.
Every Thursday, a letter arrived at Nora’s bookstore, addressed to someone who hadn’t lived in the village for over a decade.
I still hear her voice in my ear - 'don't be a hero' she said - but it was way too late for that now.
Commander Hale’s first clue that something was wrong came when he found his own name etched into the side of a ship that shouldn’t exist for another hundred years.
But that wasn't something he should worry about now, there were more pressing issues demanding his attention right now.
In the heart of the ancient forest, where the trees whispered secrets to the wind, a crown of silver and thorns lay half-buried in the roots.
At precisely midnight, every clock in the village stopped, except for the one in Edgar Finch’s workshop, which began to tick backwards.
Detective Elias Black stared at the body sprawled beneath the flickering streetlight, a single black feather clutched in its hand.
The rain had washed away most of the blood, but the symbol carved into the cobblestones beneath the body remained, stark and deliberate.
Elias knelt down, tracing the edges of the symbol with a gloved finger, its intricate curves disturbingly familiar from the case files buried deep in the precinct’s archives.
What a mess have I gotten myself into this time, it's going to be a tricky one.