Black Heart
by Joseph Vargo

We heard the growling sound grow louder, announcing the creature’s approach. After a few seconds, the thing emerged from the shadows and we could see it more clearly in the moonlight. The thing looked like a scarecrow slowly shambling across the hollow. It stood well over six feet tall, and it was clad in tattered remnants of a long black coat. The creature lurched and swayed as if it were a life-sized marionette being controlled by some unseen puppeteer.
      We were quiet and still as the thing ambled past us, but then it suddenly stopped and turned its head in our direction. I could feel my heart pounding as the creature stood before us. It raised its head as if to detect our scent in the wind then began to step toward us.

Afraid of the Dark
by Joseph Vargo

A ghostly fog shrouded the ground, and moonlight illuminated an old stone well that stood at the center of the hollow. The boys slowly crept toward the ancient structure, drawn closer by the hypnotic call from somewhere within. Primitive symbols and carvings of unknown beasts were chiseled into the stones around the well’s perimeter. Jonah picked up a loose rock and dropped it into the pit to assess the well’s depth, but no sound returned from the darkness below. As the boys peered over the edge of crumbling bricks and down into the gaping maw, a putrid smell of decay rose to meet them.
     The light of the harvest moon glistened upon the wet, mossy stones that led down into the dark recesses of the earth, and as they stared into the depths of the pit, the boys began to discern shapes rising from the shadows. At first they appeared to be no more than tendrils of smoke, reaching upward from the darkness below, but then the mist began to take on more menacing forms. Skeletal arms and writhing black tentacles stretched upward and out of the well, ensnaring the boys in their clutches.

The Westgate Phantom
by Joseph Vargo

After staring at the ceiling for several minutes, I began to think my eyes were playing tricks on me. At first, I began to see a thin layer of green smoke spreading across the ceiling, then the smoke began to slowly creep down the walls and take on sinewy forms that swayed in serpentine fashion. The effect was mesmerizing, and I could feel my body growing numb. I tried to sit up, but I was unable to move. I watched as the ghostly tendrils crept across the floor and up onto the bed beside me. The hypnotic green mist slowly grew darker, forming a large black shadow that blotted out the entire ceiling as I lay paralyzed and completely helpless beneath it. The jet-black form looked like an enormous spider looming over me, encasing me within its writhing legs.

The Legend of Darklore Manor
by Joseph Vargo

As I began to ascend the main staircase in the entrance hall, an icy chill passed through me, and I was suddenly overcome with an unexplainable feeling of sorrow. The dismal sensation was so overwhelming that my legs nearly buckled beneath me. As I tried to regain my composure I heard whispering from somewhere behind me. Although I knew that there was no one else in the room, I realized I wasn’t alone.
     The entrance hall fell silent once more, then I heard a voice that seemed to whisper my name. I should have ignored it, dismissing what I heard as the sound of wind whistling through a broken window. I should have continued up the stairs without hesitation and quickly returned to the sanctity of my group. Had I only done so, I might have avoided the grim repercussions of my reckless actions. But I did not. Instead I slowly turned to face whoever or whatever had spoken my name, and in that moment, my lifelong beliefs were shattered.
     A tall man, dressed entirely in black, wearing a Victorian-style top hat and coat, was standing on the staircase directly behind me. His dark form wavered like black smoke and his cloak tapered to shadows, fading from sight before reaching the ground. I realized that what I was seeing was no living person, and I knew I could no longer deny the existence of ghosts or the paranormal. Facing the macabre reality that stood before me, I suddenly felt the icy grip of fear taking hold of my heart.
     The shadow man whispered my name again, then lifted his head to reveal his ghastly face. I stared in horror as my gaze fell upon two gaping black holes, bored into the center of his head where his eyes should have been. He raised his withered hand toward me and I screamed and stumbled back upon the stairs. I reached out to try to break my fall and as I landed, a jolting pain shot through my shoulder. The pain temporarily took my mind off of the apparition. I looked up, hoping to see nothing more than an empty room, but to my horror, the ghoulish specter was hovering over me, its empty eye sockets blankly staring downward.
     The phantom leaned close and its hollow voice hissed, “Leave this place.”