The world can be a strange place and when one thing goes bad, usually it was in concert with many other nasty dominoes that fall behind it. "When it rains, it pours." It had become his mental refrain, one that felt especially true in 2016 when it seemed like the whole world had spiraled into chaos. He was no stranger to life’s oddities, but this year felt different, like the absurdities had taken on a life of their own. The news cycle was relentless, flashing images of creepy clowns stalking neighborhoods one moment and heated political debates the next. It was a strange time to be alive, with the country seemingly on edge, flipping between real dangers and imagined threats with every scroll through his phone. He could still recall the first clown sighting he read about on Facebook. It was some grainy, shaky video taken in the woods of South Carolina, the eerie figure half-lit by a dim streetlight. Before he knew it, the stories were everywhere—clowns lurking outside schools,...
The gates yawned open, a mournful groan escaping their rusted throats. The hinges weren’t stiff, yet there was something unsettling about the way they swung—almost as if they had done this a thousand times before, welcoming lost souls into the black maw of the estate. The wind cut through like a blade, carrying the scent of damp earth and decay, as if it whispered secrets long buried under the soil. Beyond the gates, a path climbed toward the house. Behind the estate was flanked by weather-beaten headstones that jutted from the ground like crooked teeth. Generations of the estate's long-dead owners slumbered here, restless in their eternal beds. It was clear why no one trespassed on these grounds; the air was heavy with an ancient dread, thick enough to choke on. But fear was a stranger to Charles. He had walked through worse shadows, and when the chill October wind sank its claws into him, he met it with a smile. As he moved forward, each step seemed to echo, swallowed by the dark...