Author: Every Writer

Detective Burns and Lowry hurried down the creaky hallway with weapons firmly drawn. Cobwebs and exposed wiring along the ceiling blazed with an eerie yellow

No, don’t wake up. I’ve been waiting for a quiet moment.

Father Rosso stood over the corpseless head, his beautiful white robes stained with blood. His body was rigid, yet calm, like a man at prayer, which he might have been, save for the knife clenched in his fist.

Even before I open my eyes, I feel its dark, malignant presence. It stands motionless in the corner of my bedroom. The air is cold but thick with a putrid stench

When I was younger, there had been a few kids in my area that had gone missing and were later found dead. The killer would never leave clues and the police were baffled.