Spooky Stories

The Gruesome History of Eating Corpses as Medicine

Is it cannibalism if the person has been dead 2,000 years? (give or take) You may be shocked or amused to read what body parts were commonly prescribed as medicine in the Western world as late as 1908 -- when a last attempt to drink fresh blood at the scaffold was made in German …

Thousands of spiders blanket Australian farm

If you have a fear of spiders, you better not look. Thousands of spiders -- wolf spiders, big hairy wolf spiders -- blanketed an Australian farm when escaping floods. The ground and trees are covered with their silk "parachutes."

I am Retribution.

The night rushed in like a raven on a mission to darken the world. I stood on the loneliest stretch of road with towering trees that created high closed walls on each side that made me feel like I was at the bottom of a deep river channel and I was the last fish alive in it.

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The Man Who Wouldn't Die: New York's Most Fantastic Murder

It was kind of like Double Indemnity, except the darn victim was so darn hard to kill. Desperate men cook up a life insurance scam, buying three policies on a skid-row bum. But the bum took seven months to die.

Walking from the perpetual box for a bit.

The heart of the city does not beat, it thrums like an oily black frog dirge, beating sub atomic low as it circles with noxious ripples on water.

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Freak Holiday Attack leaves Surfer Barbie with one less limb, was it a Land Shark?

 In a horrible pre-holiday midnight swim, Surfer Barbie was, early Thanksgiving morning, found in a pool of plastic fake blood with her left hand bitten off. There were 14 suspects but only one had sharp teeth.

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Adam Roberts on Science Fiction Classics

Maybe your list of five sci-fi classics will have other titles, but here are Adam Roberts.' What makes a work a classic?  "The best sci-fi explores humanity’s anxieties and concerns and is in some sense about the future.

Once more, a leap from the perpetual box.

Darkness and cold are my coat and cravat as my shadow walks across the grey brick wall. Back to the Black Spider to see her, my pale moon pixie blooded waif.

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The essence of Zombieness-I ate my Parents. A tale from stolen Secret Government Files.

Strike the supperating slash what a gash a party smash with bang and crash I am my own Snidely Whip-LASH. (edit note)The last poem written on the cell wall of test subject 11298-Jimmie Ripped Lips, escaped Jan.

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A Zombie Love Poem by Jimmie Ripped Lips

The smile says nothing the eyes say less boy is her dress a big bloody mess Hope she'll go out with me I guess,   She reeks of decay what a wonderful bouquet my heart she does slay with the guts she do display just a certain way I think,   Her clothes all a tatter  …

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