Graverobber

Walking through a graveyard at night, you start to wonder whether or not you chose the right profession. You may have been a little hasty dropping out of school all those years ago, but in your defense you were drawing a good amount of attention with your… obsession with the dead. Shifting the shaft of the shovel on your shoulder, you lift your lantern higher to get a good look around you; this is a new graveyard that you’ve yet to venture to, so you’re not very familiar with the layout.

“Where oh where is that fresh grave…?” You mutter aloud, looking around to try and discern where the fresh body could be. “I know I read that obituary right, today should be the day that she was buried.”

The Old Well, Part One

The old town well was cursed.

Not cursed in that it gave foul or polluted water, no. No, the water was fine and cold, and clear as could be. The seven families that composed the village of Remtusk depended on the well for their everyday chores: the woman needed it for laundry and cooking, while the men used it to quench their thirst after working with the animals in the fields. Even the children looked to it as a source of solace that they could find on a sweltering summer day.

Devil's Due

     A while back I wrote about the first true scary movie of the New Year, Devil's Due. Well, aside from being wrong and finding out there was a new Paranormal Activity that came out (which was awesome by the way), there is a great promotional video for this movie that has left me in stitches. Take a look:

     Behold, the wonders of science! It grants us the ability to terrify people (other than that one man who looked like he didn't understand what was going on). Go see this movie when it comes out, and hopefully we can motivate Hollywood into making more movies like this one.

Paint It Black, Part One

Sitting on the window sill as I eat my breakfast, I cast my gaze out over the waterfront district of this colonial port town. I see men bartering over barrels of whiskey, pointing hands shouting as several lankier looking fellows roll said barrels down a ramp leading from the boat to the pier. Fishmongers, all surly looking sailors with skin as tough as any animal hide and as tanned as the skin of a coconut shout their wares to the errand boys moving through the crowds, who duck between shopping wives and mothers, who turn their nose at the homeless children begging for alms in the gutter.