“Shadowend Funeral Home?” Robby Falcon turned his gray F-150 off the main road of Baker High School and onto the service road that led to the interstate. “Brayden, that placed stopped being scary when we were in elementary school.” Brayden Briley, packed his dip can with a loud pop and said, “Look, Falcon, it’s not about being scary man. It’s about having the place to … [Read more...] about Shadowend Funeral Home
Ezekiel Kincaid
The Rougarou: A Fictional Story About Louisiana Folklore
Houma, Louisiana, July, 1985 Tara Stillman shouldered her black Guess purse, closed the door to her brown Pinto, and bent down to the side mirror to check her make up. She stood up, tucked her straight blonde hair behind her ears, and walked around the front of the car. Tara was a junior at Ellender Memorial, and she scored a baby-sitting job with the Miller’s this past … [Read more...] about The Rougarou: A Fictional Story About Louisiana Folklore
The Paranormal Journal of Ezekiel Kincaid Entry 3: Brandon
I had just settled down for the night with a good book and a bottle of whiskey. The paperback I was reading was from 1987--C. Dean Anderson’s Torture Tomb. The cover had appealed to me so I snatched it up at a thrift store. I nestled into my recliner, flipped it open to the beginning, and started reading. Then there was a knock on my door. “Unbelievable. Every … [Read more...] about The Paranormal Journal of Ezekiel Kincaid Entry 3: Brandon
The Paranormal Journal of Ezekiel Kincaid Entry 4: Rachel’s Circle
I’ve learned not to question when the dead come to me. Now, I welcome them and listen totheir tales. One such visitor was a young girl named Rachel. She wouldn’t tell me her last name, but shedid tell me what happened to her.“Mr. Kincaid.”I was taken out of my world of writing by a soft, sweet voice.“Yes,” I was sitting on my bed with my computer in my lap. I glanced away from … [Read more...] about The Paranormal Journal of Ezekiel Kincaid Entry 4: Rachel’s Circle
The 12 A.M. To Nowhere
This must be the hundredth time I have woken up on this damn subway covered in blood and body parts. If I have to spit one more ear lobe out my mouth again, I swear I am going to shit a brick. Nothing changes. It is the same thing over and over. There’s the red head over there draped across the seat. One of her green eyes is dangling out of the socket and her legs are … [Read more...] about The 12 A.M. To Nowhere