Five Years Dead

Sam Rooney [Part 1] | Thriller


Doctor Sariah Khan shook her head in fear and frustration. She’d already spent several hours studying the records of the three kids, and she wasn’t any closer to understanding this situation than when she started. The documents were all sprawled across her desk and even littered the floor: transcripts of their sessions, drawings from therapy prompts, reactions to various stimuli, frequency of unscheduled meetings – everything she could possibly think of.

Tyson, Bailey, and Grace were all sent to her by their parents describing the same night terrors: sudden sleepwalking, mumbling and moaning in their sleep, wetting the bed long after that should have ceased to be a problem, and jerky bodily movements.

Despite the glaring similarities, Sariah could still chalk that all up to a big coincidence. What she could not ignore was the description each kid gave of their imaginary friend. Every description, despite the children never having met each other in their lives, and even though thing they had in common was that they all came to her, eerily matched the likeness of Sam Rooney, a paedophile and serial killer who was sentenced to death five years ago.

The Light

Jaran Reddington Part 2

“Be careful, Jaran. Keep yourself safe. Get to the Portals and go through them as soon as they appear. I’m sure you’ll emerge into a favourable place.”

With that, Rip’s body became still as the life drained out of him.



Jaran fell over his body and began to sob amidst hard, laboured breaths. He felt weak. He knew though, what he had to do. He had to get to the Portals and step through them; simple enough. What if I end up going to Hell?

No, I mustn’t think like that. I’ve had just one serious encounter with the law. I’ve done nothing else wrong my entire life.

He pushed himself off the ground and swung the quiver over one shoulder, with the bow over the other. He sheathed the sword, grabbed the shield, and began to walk. With all that weight pulling him down though, it wasn’t easy.

“I could lose some of this, right? I mean, I don’t need a sword and a bow and arrow.” No sooner had the thought entered his head, that the quiver, shield, and bow faded away, leaving no trace of their existence.

“What the fuck? Where the fuck did my stuff go?”

“God damn it!” Jaran stomped on the ground in anger, swinging his fists through the air. “Give me my stuff back!” Just like that, everything came back – exactly the way it was when it vanished. “The hell is going on here…” Jaran was thoroughly confused now and had no idea what was going on. Damn it, Rip would know. These were all his weapons, after all.

Russian Roulette

A naked bulb hung above the table for two, lighting nothing but that and the two men on the chairs, positioned squarely in the centre of the room. Two others stood to either side of the table. The two on the chairs were tied to their chairs, bags over their heads, tape on their mouth. Their knots had been tied so that the more they struggled, the tighter the rope got.

The door slammed open, momentarily lighting up the room. But that was soon gone when a man walked in. He carried a walking stick, but didn’t seem to be too dependant on it. Without breaking stride, he clicked the door shut with a flick of his cane. Irritably, he made a gesture to the two men by the table — probably his subordinates. They pulled the bags off of the men’s heads and ripped the tape off their mouth. Immediately, the one on the right began to shout and the left one’s sobs became more pronounced.