“Why did I choose this job?” Vanessa wondered. She never wanted to work with people, especially not in mental hospitals. She had always preferred remote work, but for now, this job would do. She handled both day and night shifts because no one else wanted to work with these individuals. She understood why. But who was she to judge? Besides, it was the only way to reduce her sentence. All she needed to do was pass out medication and keep an eye on them—how hard could that be? She did her daily rounds, checking on patients, distributing their meds, and ensuring they were fed. It wasn’t the hardest job, and interacting with most of them was actually enjoyable. Her heart…

Sarah had always been an early riser. Her job as a nurse required it, and after years on the same schedule, her body woke her before the sun even began to rise. This morning was no different. As she shuffled into the kitchen, she flicked on the light and set the kettle to boil. While waiting for her tea, Sarah glanced out the window. It was still dark outside, but she could just make out the silhouette of the large oak tree in her backyard, its branches swaying gently in the pre-dawn breeze. But something was different today. There, among the leaves, she saw a figure. Her heart skipped a beat. It looked like a person, standing perfectly still in…

I used to hear in school to never sleep with a mirror facing your bed. People said that mirrors were portals to other dimensions and realities. I always thought it was a load of rubbish. How could a mirror, a simple reflection, be the gateway to something so powerful? Like I was saying, it was something kids in my class used to talk about, but I never actually gave it a second thought until now. I’m a 20-year-old who’s just moved out of my parents’ house, living it up in ‘The Big Apple’. Ironic how they can call it the big apple yet I have to walk 10 miles to get fruit that isn’t coated in additives and preservatives. Not…

The following document is from a journal found in an abandoned mental facility. Please note that the probability that any of this is real is low, and most likely the result of the patient’s broken mind. I doubt anyone will believe me, I doubt any of you who might have stumbled upon this will even care afterwards. This is my story. I’m writing this down because somehow that thing got in here. I don’t know how much time I have, maybe an hour, maybe a few seconds before it breaks the door down. It all started the day I bought my first house. I had lived in apartments and flats, but never owned a place of my own. It was…