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Email’s hidden hooks...

I sit in my chair, scrolling through my phone, as my eyes drift to the massive window in front of us. Our plane gleams faintly at the gate under the heavy October sky, its white body contrasting sharply with the swirling gray clouds overhead. There’s a weight to the air today, something strange I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Look at that guy,” Brian says, nudging me with his elbow.

I glance up...

Francine descended the stairs, her spirits lifted by the aroma of breakfast wafting from the kitchen. Mark, her husband, stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease while their seven-year-old daughter, Gloria, giggled at the table, bouncing to the sound of a song blaring from the Amazon Echo:

_This is the song that doesn't end._

_Yes, it goes on and on, my friend._

Francine chuckle...

Oh what suspense, the bomb’s about to blow

The timer ticks, my heart puts on a show

But here’s a Tide ad—gripping, apropos

I’d rather be clothes washing—how’d you know?

Last minute confession before they’re through

Wait! Farmer’s Dog dog-food service debuts?

Sorry Fido, your old favorite must go!

I love subscriptions it seems—how’d you know?

The hero leaps, the plane begins to dive

Wendy’s new F...

A relentless figure, with a three part name separated by dashes, stalks his prey, while offering a strange, otherworldly dish. Through eerie rhymes and unsettling encounters, the story unravels into a chilling game of manipulation and dread. Watch as our plucky protagonist resists, leading to ever darker settings, more insistent offers, and the climbing price of refusal. Will they escape the night...

I strolled one night beneath the moon

A zephyr played a little tune

When from a portal it came near

A figure strange, yet oddly clear

Not someone else, they said to me:

_I’m you, from 2043_

Their face was lined, their hair was gray

But still they smirked in my own way

_Shouldn’t you warn me?_ I inquired

_Of cliffs and traps, of paths required?_

They laughed and shook their head with ease

_You wo...

Greg Caputi sits in a steel chair bolted to the ground, while a single bulb swinging from the ceiling causes the shadows to dance restlessly over the concrete floor. His body is tense, his hands gripping the armrests as though they are his last anchor to reality. Before him, a figure kneels, shrouded in a burlap sack, their identity concealed. The figure is utterly still, save for the rise and fal...

Sing O’ Muse of Link the swordsman so bold

Protector of Hyrule, Zelda’s hand to hold

For ninety-nine years peace reigned across the land

Until boredom crept, impossible to withstand

Near Hyrule’s lake close to the castle’s spire

Zelda still sleeps, bound tightly by magic fire

Link roams the fields, seeking solace for his stead

When an idea sparks—he’ll see the guy in red

Beside the shore sits Ma...

“Is this some kind of joke?” he mutters to himself, his voice echoing in the dim, hollow room. The place barely resembles a museum, feeling more like a neglected storage closet. Charcoal-painted walls swallow up the sparse lighting and seem to cast everything in an eerie glow.

At the center of the tiny room, under a single, narrow spotlight, sits a flimsy folding table that carries a single objec...

I lower my tray table, eyes locked on the snack cart as it creeps closer. Mom raises her eyebrows, and I know I have a decision—cookies or pretzels. I’m leaning toward cookies when, out of nowhere, the cart rolls right past us without stopping. I huff, leaning toward Mom. “Did they seriously just take away our snacks?”

She chuckles and pats my hand, but I feel Disgust stirring in my head, like in...