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Garreth reloaded and chambered another bolt from the magazine onto the guide. ​And so he did several times, missing every single time to his astonishment. He was all the more surprised because he was great at shooting both with a crossbow and a bow. Only his last shot remained. He pulled the cocking lever, then loaded the next bolt from the magazine onto the guide. He pulled the trigger, and the arrow, like a projectile fired from a catapult, hit right in the center of the mutant tree's massive hand. The monster let out a terrifying scream that startled the birds, which fled in panic from the spot. Blood appeared on the monster's huge paw. ​Susan slid down to the ground, and Nick and Garreth ran up to her quickly to take her away from there. Taking advantage of the fact that the monster was focused on its wounded hand for a long moment, they quickly took Susan under the arm and ran away... ​The vampire moon shifted across the sky at the speed of light. -Are you alright, Susan ?- No, but for a moment I felt faint from that grip. I was really scared, I don't know what I would have done without you. If not for you, I probably would have become its dinner feast .... The group of friends decided to wait out the night in the tent. The next morning, they packed up and headed towards home, longing to rest after everything they had experienced the previous night. It was simply too much for them; had they had a bit less luck, they might have joined the rest of the missing students who never returned from Blackwood...

Recording #478991: Recorded by Tyson Baker (Deceased), Swallowvale DOSH. December 4th, 2009. Interview of one PO2 (RET) Jaeson Steele, US Navy, Diver (Salvage), NEC 5913. Overview: Jaeson Steele's reaccounting of a haunting experience as a Navy Diver which later caused him to retire.

### SCP-ARCHIVED-004 — THE HOUSE THAT REMEMBERED They told us the house had been empty for thirty-eight years. So why were there candles burning inside? Why did people from different decades describe the **same figure** standing behind the upstairs window? And why did the Foundation's investigation uncover three files that nobody remembered creating? **001. 002. 003.** Deleted. Then there was **004**. Agent David was sent to investigate an abandoned house in rural Oklahoma. What began as a routine recovery operation quickly turned into something the Foundation could not explain—rooms that shouldn't exist, voices coming through dead radios, surveillance footage that showed things the cameras couldn't see, and a figure that seemed to know exactly why the team had come. Then the house gave them a message: **“Four remains.”** The investigation was terminated. The official report was buried. But one piece of evidence survived. A black pen. And when it was brought back to the Foundation, it opened a file that should have been impossible to access. **ARCHIVE-004.** The last line of the recovered footage was simple: **“Begin with 001.”** This is where the archives begin. **But 004 was never the first.*

Crickets make peaceful company; a lulling ambience to soothe the quiet side road, where a girl can puff another smoke, wondering what lecture Chief's gonna bark come morning. But my night was only beginning. The dash radio didn't just crackle to life - it sputtered in jumbled, inaudible pieces. I...

Some say it marched out of the sea under a bloody moon, here to expel our town of all hope - a monster to punish the naive prospectors of Maple Oaks who spent their gold on false witch hunts; an avenger of the young women burnt at the pyre, drowning the land for rebirth. Others say it was summoned...

They called them the 'Blue Boys' because by the time the sea spits them back out, the cold has dyed their skin - tracing their veins indigo; turning firm, strong lads into stiff statues of bloat and salt. We’ve buried three this month. Three half-empty coffins, as the water doesn't return all it...

Scarecrow - an object made to resemble a human figure, planted in virgin fields to scare away the birds. An object of baseless fear; a patchwork of straw and burlap. But Cropsy was crafted different, by older hands with older seams. And he provided far, far more. From my bedroom window, I could...

No Christmas lasts forever. The puppy from the box will lose its novelty, and grow big and stink - maybe make a mess on the floor once in a while. The decorations return to the attic and gather another year's worth of dust, assuming they remain in the same home at all. Extended families go back to...

Let me start from the beginning. That Monday started out like any other. I arrived at work, filled my coffee cup and stepped into my office. I'm a former Air Force Major, now in training with NASA for a spot on the ISS. If all went according to plan, I should have been heading up there within the...

It was Tuesday after lunch when I noticed the Door. I was walking back from the equipment cupboard to restock my phlebotomy tray, when I passed Dr Clark's room and stopped. The examination couch that usually sat unused against that stretch of wall was gone. In its place was a wooden door, the same...

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform. A strange white glow appears in the woods behind a man’s isolated home. Each night it moves closer, but it casts no shadows and lights nothing around it. When it reaches his back steps and something crosses his roof, he realizes it may not be just a light.

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform. When I was eight, Mrs. Alder lived across the street. She was old. Gray hair in a bun, thick glasses, never left the house except to get the mail. When I moved back at thirty-two, she was still there. Same hair. Same...

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform. I always close the basement door. Always. Last week I came home and it was open. I live alone. No forced entry. Nothing missing. But the air felt heavier. That night I closed it again. Around 2 AM I heard it open. Not...

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform. I take late walks near the river. Last night the fog was thick enough to blur everything. That’s when I saw writing in it. My name. Clear. Floating in the air. The letters shifted. “Come closer.” I ran home. My bathroom...

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform. My TV switched to Channel 3 on its own. Static. Except the static wasn’t random. If I stared long enough, shapes formed. My living room. From above. Like a security camera. And there I was. Watching the TV. Except in the...

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform. Every night at 1 AM something walks the fence line. Slow. Even steps. It circles the property. Last night I looked. There were footprints. They started at my back door. And ended at my back door.

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform. I woke up to a voicemail notification. No missed call. It was my voice. Whispering. “Don’t answer the next call.” Two minutes later my phone rang. Unknown number. I answered. Silence. Then my voice again. “You shouldn’t...

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform. My apartment has one window. One. Last night there were two. The new one looks into darkness. No building. No sky. Just black. Tonight I heard tapping. From the outside. I live on the fourth floor.

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform. I camp alone to clear my head. At night I could hear the trees breathing. Not wind. Breathing. Slow inhale. Slow exhale. I pressed my ear to a trunk. It was warm. Pulsing. When I stepped back, all the trees were leaning...

⚠️ Demo Story — Created to showcase the reading experience on this platform. There’s a path behind my childhood home that no one uses anymore. When I was younger my mother told me never to walk it after dark. I didn’t listen. The first time I walked it at night, I saw him. A silhouette at the end...