The Thing on the TV

By Chef Unxmaal

//Source.

//This is part five of a series. Click here for part one.

When I was about thirteen, I stayed at my uncle’s house over the summer. I didn’t know it, but my parents were getting divorced and they wanted me to have a fun summer without dealing with the stress of moving. I loved my uncle’s place, so I was thrilled to find out that I would get to stay there all summer.  Continue reading “The Thing on the TV”

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The Side Tunnel

By Chef Unxmaal

//Source.

//This is part four of a series. For part one, click here.

I hated that town. Sprawled across the rotting foothills of a dead mountain chain, the city was a mass of Old South racism and corruption, filled with inhabitants too poor or too sentimental to leave for someplace better. The city sweltered in the mid-summer heat, smog from traffic mixing with lethal amounts of pollen and dust to form a soup that killed asthmatics as effectively a whiff of mustard gas.

I had acquired a sum of money from a job a few months back, and my needs were modest, so I had nothing better to do than hang out at the fountain downtown, or at the coffee shop nearby. I met Charlie first, when I noticed some truly phenomenal photographs on his laptop. They were all of beautiful, decayed structures, some of which I had seen around town. Charlie never made eye contact as he explained, in his mild, halting speech, that he didn’t take the photos, those were Jack’s, but he handled setting up Jack’s website.  Continue reading “The Side Tunnel”

The Space Between

By Chef Unxmaal

//Source.

//This is part three of a series. For part one, click here.

Can a house be evil? Is it possible for a structure of wood and stone and plaster and glass to become more than the sum of its parts, in the negative sense? It certainly happens in the positive sense. Fill a house with light and love and family and that sense of comfort and well-being seems to permeate the very walls of the place. But … is it possible to architect a bad place, however inadvertently, through the unwitting intersection of board and beam?  Continue reading “The Space Between”

Storage

By Chef Unxmaal

//Source.

//This is the sequel to The Stairs and the Doorway

“Your honor, I’ve seen shit that would turn you white!” — Winston, Ghostbusters.

There’s not a lot of work out there for a twenty-ish ex-security guard with a bad case of PTSD. And if that dumb kid was hideously scarred by a ‘serial killer’ that had carved a swathe of victims across three states and disappeared without a trace? That kid can barely get a hamburger at McDonald’s, much less gainful employment.

My parents weren’t able to help much. The wounds on my forehead and cheeks healed after a few weeks, or months. I wasn’t counting. You can still see them if you look closely, or in the moonlight. Nobody looks too closely these days. There’s something about my eyes that seem to reflect the things that I’ve seen.

I can identify with Winston. I’ve seen some shit. And that shit would turn you white, if not stark raving mad. And I may in fact be mad, because I keep seeing shit.  Continue reading “Storage”

Methenes Chapel

By Chef Unxmaal

//Source.

The Goat roared down the dusty country road, shattering the silence of the late October twilight. The Goat was a 1969 Pontiac GTO “Judge”, Ram Air and a Rock Crusher transmission. Jay had painted it a glowing, canary “arrest me” yellow, and he had mounted a goat skull on the dash. “You wanna see Methenes Chapel?” Jay shouted at me over the roar. “Sure,” I said.  Continue reading “Methenes Chapel”

When You Have a Bad Feeling, Trust It

By Chef winterinthehellscape

//Source.

I was brought up very sheltered. Homeschooled until high school. My only social network outside of my family was my southern baptist church. As you can imagine, this led to a few issues where social interaction was concerned.  Continue reading “When You Have a Bad Feeling, Trust It”

1,000 Dark Jokes to Make Your Soul Rot

By Chef JRHEvilInc/Joel R. Hunt

//Source.

//Story contains references to animal cruelty, sexual assault, and other abuse.

Apparently, there’s a joke book called ‘1000 Dark Jokes to Make Your Soul Rot’, and I was wondering if anyone here had heard of it, because I seriously want to get my hands on a copy.

I’ve been into dark humour for as long as I can remember. No topic is off-limits. Terrorism. Slavery. Dead babies. Whatever. I don’t care about things being offensive; as long as it’s a good joke, I’m up for it.

So when I heard about ‘1000 Dark Jokes’, I knew I wanted to read it. The problem is, it doesn’t seem to exist anywhere. I’ve searched for hours online, I’ve looked on Amazon and Waterstones, I’ve scoured the local bookshops and libraries (Side note – I discovered that libraries are still a thing!). I even contacted some of the biggest libraries in the country and asked them to search through their stock. Nothing. There wasn’t a scrap of evidence that this book had ever been written.

Except for one forum. Continue reading “1,000 Dark Jokes to Make Your Soul Rot”

Radio Silence

By Chef bencbartlett

//Source.

36,400,000. That is the expected number of intelligent civilizations in our galaxy, according to Drake’s famous equation. For the last 78 years, we had been broadcasting everything about us – our radio, our television, our history, our greatest discoveries – to the rest of the galaxy. We had been shouting our existence at the top of our lungs to the rest of the universe, wondering if we were alone. 36 million civilizations, yet in almost a century of listening, we hadn’t heard a thing. We were alone.

That was, until about 5 minutes ago. Continue reading “Radio Silence”

I Got a Phone Call Threatening my Kid – Except I Don’t Have a Kid…

By Chef Bastard_Wing

//Source.

I got the call about 11am yesterday. Fortunately, or not, my office is one of those that’s chilled about people taking personal calls during the day. Sometimes you just need to talk to a plumber, a venue manager, or… this guy.

Thing is, if it hadn’t been a withheld number, I wouldn’t have answered. If a number displays you can just google it later, and a few of my friends withhold theirs out of habit. I’m already answering as I walk out onto the landing, expecting an opportunity to troll an insurance agent asking about an accident I’d never had.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello mister/’

‘Sorry, it’s a bit echo-y…’

the landing genuinely is echo-y, there’s usually someone coming or going from one of the other offices.

‘…what name was that?’

‘Just shut up and listen.’

‘Um. Right, who is th/’

‘Right now I’m outside/”  Continue reading “I Got a Phone Call Threatening my Kid – Except I Don’t Have a Kid…”

Delivery

By Chef Unxmaal

//Source.

I saw him for the first time in the freezer. It was late on a Friday night, really Saturday morning, and I was moving food to the cooler for the morning crew. I pulled a box from the shelf and turned, and there, right there by the door, he was standing. A dark shape — no, a dim shape, fuzzy in those few seconds of vision, my eyes not quite certain if they were focusing on the freezer door or this thing in front of it. Pale arms outstretched and raised towards me. Hollow eyes black against a pallid face, and a mouth that opened as if to speak. I heard the click and slide of tongue on teeth, underneath the low wheeze of the freezer fan. And he was gone.  Continue reading “Delivery”