The One Whose Name Goes As

A dream, a stalker and an unespected end. Is all of this paranoia making any sense? We can only hope not.

Click here and find out.



 Johnny has been having issues with a thing in his closet. It just doesn't stop sobbing... Will he stand up to it?

Come and find out.


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Corners and In-Betweens (Pt. 3 of 3)

This is Pt 3. For the previous part, click here. For the first one, click here.

She stopped the chair and turned it back to the couch. There seemed to be something… above it. She dropped the hamburger on the table walked over to check.
Nothing, really. Her eyes must've failed her for half a second. 'But…' Hul kneeled on the couch, and realized that a wide and thin crack appeared on the wall.
'Was it there before?'
She didn't think so.
Cackling all around. She was almost used to it by that point.
It was a time as good as any to go to sleep. She brushed her teeth and jumped into bed. It was old and squeaky, much like the couch in the living room.
She was so tired, Hul felt like she could sleep the entire next day. Maybe she would. But maybe it would be better to write Babak's poem and then call him. Yeah, they'd go out soon enough.
She reached the light-switch and… Lights off.
The sounds… They were so annoying. It was almost as if the sounds of silence had rebelled against her, and started rushing and crackling in an almost mocking fashion. Much like a sea of jaws tethering in the cold.
It didn't matter, she was going to be fine. Paranoid people, that's all all of them were.
Hul started to close her eyes, she knew that as soon as her thoughts ceased she'd rest. The circumferences of her eyelids were about to meet when she saw something.
In a burst she was now seating, the lights on. Heavy breathing. What was that?
No, it was nothing. Maybe she'd call the pest control later? She wasn't sure.  Tomorrow she'd see what she could do about pests with Kamila and Gulsim. She'd take them some nuts too. No one could ever have too many pistachios.
Still, she brought coffee for a reason. Brazilian, the best one in the world. If resting was going to be a chore, why not write a little?
In jiffy she now had a mug and a bottle by her side, both with hot steamy coffee inside, her laptop open and she was now ready to do what she was best at. 'Thank god there's no internet.' Progress was about to happen, after all there was nothing to distract her… Right?
She went by too quick in the kitchen, a buzzing sound seemed to follow. She didn't want to mind.
It was still there though.
Words flowed from her brain as the motion on her fingers tapped the plastic on the machine, the words appeared on the screen, the cycle repeated.
It didn't quite sync with the room settling in.
Hours went by as she thought of words and their sounds, the mug was emptied and filled again and again.
Her mind tired as her body was forced on, but even with her reduced senses something was off.
She thought of Babak.
The wood on the floor and the paint on the walls did their small symphony of cracking and hinging, moving towards her from the right and under.
She thought of having always known him, she thought of the things she've always wanted but couldn't drop a friendship for.
A slow hum from behind.
But it wouldn't matter now, she was by herself and they could be together. Hul  did her best to smile.
She knew it wasn't there. All tricks and anxiousness, she had no time for such foolishness. The poem was almost finished. 'What time is it?'
In the turn of her head she saw too much for not to scream.
Hul found herself laying in the floor, the chair toppled. The… No, what was that? So many things, long tendril-like things all around her…
She tried checking her wristwatch again, '13 to 7'.  The sun was about to rise.
Someone knocked on the door.
The woman was too tired to bother dressing, making herself to the front door quickly and only bothering to open the smallest creek from it. It was Alborz.
"Are you fine? I've heard screaming."
And the door was now closed.
She was going to be fine.
But, all around her, low at first, but then...
"Huhuhuhuhuhu, hahahahahahahahah, hehehehehe, hohohohoho!"
She did a quick turn, a blur swifted through the furniture. The mirrored version of the apartment next door's living room, it lacked personality. It lacked mirrors. Whatever that was, regardless of what the old women said, Hul had to see it. She'd smack it in the head and stab it in the gut. She picked a broom and a knife, sat in the corner and waited.
She was too sleepy, the sun was about to rise. But the girl wouldn't let herself sleep. She'd call Babak, but would he answer the phone, let alone believe her? She didn't want to fight that alone, though. The light started to hit the windows, and as the line of light pushed it away she caught something on the knife's reflection, in the last regions of darkness…  just behind her.
In a quick dash Hul found herself in the middle of the living room, all she saw was a huge misformed shadow disappear into the wall. It did so almost as if all around it was liquid. Hul closed her eyes. Whatever she stood against… It was real.
She took a deep breath, the hellish noises surrounded her. A small gust of wind seemed to be going around the room. As she clenched her knife, Hul hurled the broomstick back and forward, but it felt as if it could only hit the air. She stopped, but the hell of shapes around her didn't cease. She quietly opened her eyes.
All around her, blurriness, but in a second it all amounted right in front of her. As if something layered itself sideways in unnerving manner, a huge imposing shade took place a few inches ahead of her. It shook upon itself, vibrating, but then stopped and...
But, as it stopped… Oh, the sun showed its shape far too well, and the creature's display caused something significantly worse than fear. Worse than horror, danger, or instant death. It displayed the impossible. Inside its broken and phasing silhouette drew its never ending tendrils, rushing in oblique and impossible shapes. Gooey, accid filled intestines, sloshing against themselves in non-euclidian ways.
It was too much for her brain.
They went through themselves and the floor, with no regard to her brain's understanding and its interaction with the light would dismantle physics as they were known. The creature's composition nothing shorter than other-worldly, its very form physically unsustainable to the human observer working mind. Among its flesh laid infinite obsidian eyes, that stared through all space and time through pure instinct. A beast unfathomable to its prey.
She was now on the floor, motionless. Broken.
Through its movements and formations, its eyes and shades, its story was shown to her. A birth from the thoughts of a mad god, a non-place far beyond the very cosmos in which all conceivable laid. No screams, no light. Only pain and hunger. Things any animal would know too well, but it stood as an animal alone. Alone where its mere existence was abhorrent. Alone until it was no longer there. Alone until there became where both of them stood.
But her mind was done for, and nothing could have been absorbed from the beast's mellow opera. Her brain slowly melting, her eyes burnt, her flesh exposed and all that faced the monstrosity corroded bloodily as her guts strew in front of her. Its song for when to prepare the feast was now finished.
It engulfed what was still Hul, as if she were nothing. Its borders going through her flesh, picking whatever it needed to survive, as the creature phased through the walls and floor of the building. It did so until she was nothing but a husk of flesh, much like her mind. Her body stretched through the walls and ceiling, stuck in the in betweens.
The walls cracked where the creature hid her, where it hid her like every single one before her.
And in her least milliseconds, as all faded to black, what was left of the pulp that was her mind recalled of her life.
All the while the beast left…
Left to tell and feast again.

The eldritch man eater named MOCKINGJAW.


"If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, of where you end your story."

Terror from beyond this world! Intrigue and bizarreness awaits! Can something be so similar it becomes alien? Clasp your way here and figure it out yourself!


Corners and In-Betweens (Pt. 2 of 3)

This is Pt. 2. To read Pt. 1, click here.

"So… The building is pretty new, right?"
"Yes." Said Gulsim, gulping some tea.
"Only a couple of years old." Finished Kamila, assorting the biscuits.
"Well, I'd like to ask, why does it look so old?"
The old women looked at each other. Something seemed to crawl in the borders of Hul's sight.
Gulsim put her tea down and started:
"People like to say the place is haunted…"
Kamila went on:
"That a Persian emperor was buried in this site and that the company that built the building paid extra to do so."
"It would make the place cheaper. They'd profit on that."
Something crawled around them, dancing perfectly in the corners of what Hul could see.
"Other people say it's us."
"I know, Gulsim, but people talk. It's better the girl gets to know it from us rather  than from Alborz." Kamila took a deep breath, "Some people say we're witches, and that the place falling is God's will against our faith."
"Bullshit, we believe in God as much as anyone else."
"Not like them."
"And? Who even cares by this point, we're just old, they're just pricks."
"Yes. Anyway, none of that matters. There's something wicked here, the crackles and the furniture are just a result of  some corporate crook's embezzling. The real bad thing that makes this place is the fact that some residents just…"
"Just?" Said Hul, holding her teacup in full anxiety.
"Disappear." Completed Gulsim. "Residents turn into dust, vanish."
"There's been 5 cases in these two years, and people say construction workers disappeared too. Sometimes people come to visit and never show up. Police finds nothing, and then say there's more important things to do."
"Useless bastards."
"I don't blame them, we both know what's doing that. But no one would believe us."
"I'm not crazy!"
"We aren't, but frankly what difference does it make? We're too old to do anything about it."
Something that sounded just like laughter echoed in the back of Hul's head, cackling in an inhumane manner.  
Hul was shaking now, she just wanted to get up and leave. But where to? She couldn't get back home, and her new place was… haunted?
"Look, girl, just… Don't look directly into it. Please. You might think we're crazy, you may never visit us again, but please, whatever you do, don't lay your eyes on it. We're lucky, we can't see it properly, but everyone else that did…"
"They've either got lost, or ended up in the bin." Replied Gulsim.
Hul got up, unwell. Her vision seemed to be getting blurry.
"I'm, I'm sorry. My friend must've finished carrying my things already, I should take a look to see how he's doing." She said, trying to get a grasp at herself.
"Surely, take care, Hul."
"Yes, take care. Please remember to close the door."
She left, and when she turned back to close the door, she could see them staring at her at the living room mirror. Two old women sitting in the dark, one lonely eye piercing through her. In the last millisecond, something above them, something huge.
The clank of the door solidified its image in Hul's head. It was nothing, just a blur. She made her way to the other side of the hall.
Her door was open, and all boxes inside. A note stood on the top of one of the boxes:
"Sorry gal, but I had to go. It was getting late and It seemed I couldn't get to contact you, so after a while I decided to head back home. If you need anything, give me a call. Also, I recommend calling the pest control, there's something I couldn't quite get the grasp of scurrying around. Probably a cat or some kind of big rat. Hugs, Babak."
The cackling… It was getting louder. She had to rest and look at things from the bright side: The move in was a success! She met her neighbors, her things were in her place, and she'd later make Babak's poem so they could see each other again. At a park or something like that.  
It would be better to rest, it was a long, even if leisure, day. Sleeping would help. Well, as long as the bad stuff didn't sink too much in with her, it would be a night of sound sleeping. She went in, took a long bath and got delivery for a burger. She laid on the sofa, staring at the ceiling as she waited for her food. She'd get her things together, she'd get that book together, she'd make something nice for Babak and take something good for the nice old ladies next door. It was fine, it was going to be great.
All the while the cackling surrounded her. It dancing around what Hul could see, making the space between them scarcer.
The doorbell rang. Hul got up. She dressed herself and took the money, she was starving. She opened the door ready to hand in the money.
A man with round sunglasses wearing a white suit stood outside, he ate her fries while holding the delivery bag.
"Excuse me?"
"Hey there. You the new girl, right? I'm Alborz."
He extended his hand, greasy with her food. She left it hanging. He put it back down.
"Eh. Anyway, this is your food. I paid it for ya, thought of taking a piece. Hope you don't mind."
"Not at all." She said, smiling. 'Prick.'
She picked her bag and proceeded to close the door, he put his foot on its way.
"Hey, I'm not finished. Trash is taken everyday at 20. Jus' leave it by your entrance. And don't talk to the ladies next door."
Hul stared at him, she was about to lose her temper.
Alborz lowered his sunglasses, revealing a glass eye.
"They're, y'know, witches."
Hul was almost at boiling point, she kicked the man's foot out of the way and slammed the door.
As she went back to the kitchen, he exclaimed outside:
"You women are all the same. Dumb and sour."
Gulsim replied from hers and Kamila's apartment, sardonically:
"We're sour cus' we have to deal with y'all, we're dumb cus' some of us chose to love y'all."
The manager made himself silent, while Hul could imagine the two old gals laughing themselves out. She laughed too.
She went back in and put the food on the counter.
She stared at the fries, 'Ruined.', she threw them in the trash.
She picked her burger and sat on the chair she had brought from home. It was the lucky chair, she wrote her best stuff in it. It also happened to be her mother's old office chair, where Hul would spend time thinking about rhymes while her mother worked. She was fond of the way the chair rotated, so she did it as she ate. Nobody to complain about she getting sick. The whole room was like a blur as everything spinned around.
The fridge, then the door, her room, the couch, the TV.
How was she going to make that poem?
The fridge, then the door, her room, the couch, the TV.
Just a couple of simple rhymes, and…
The fridge, then the door, her room, the couch, the TV.
Then she'd kiss him when nobody was looking.
The fridge, then the door, her room, the… 'Huh?'


"Curses! Slow pace and growing tension!"
- You

What were the old ladies talking about?
Could it all be just paranoia and senility?
It doesn't seem so...
Do your best to not see what's coming right here!


Corners and In-Betweens (Pt. 1 of 3)

To perceive is to suffer.
  • Attributed to Aristotle by Diogenes Laërtius in Lives of the Eminent Philosophers

The poor girl's brain was nothing. Not even a proper body to cease, and her mind… Unreachable. The flow of memories from what her life had been flowed in quick flashes through her broken mind.
'In the bazar, a pretty doll.'
Oxygen lacked, there was no room to move. Nothing but darkness.
'I said something, that made them happy. It wasn't only sounds that time… اب.'
As the flashes went on, their speed went down, as if the details that slowly filled them held them in time.
'That girl, I want to be her friend. Her hair is nice and I like the way she speaks. I approach her and… bite her arm.'
'My essay got the second prize. Minu's was way worse, I read it. I can see her smug face as she receives the small trophy. If I had sold myself out like her to the religious theme, I'd be the one there.'
Her body tried to react, but not only did it have no strength, it also had literally no space. Stuck.
'College is so weird, I don't like much studying close to boys. That one… He's staring weird at me.'
Things became clearer and her head got lighter. The events got closer to now.
'I'm so tense… I can't believe I'm graduating. My life starts now, and I will finally be able to follow my dreams and get that book written!'
And, inside her memory, she found herself leaving the removal van, two weeks ago.
Babak had just started taking her things out of it as she sat on the stairs of the building.
"Well, I could really use some help."
She rose one eyebrow and laughed.
"No way, you lost the bet. There were way more old car models on the way here than new ones."
"How cold of you… " He said, facetiously. "You know I'm a silly countryside boy, I just assumed the capital would be full of newer cars. It is the big city after all."
"You can cry as much as you want, I'm not laying a single finger on those crates. These nails have just been made. Plus I gotta write, you know."
"Oh… So Miss girly girl, with her pretty nails and prettier poems!"
"Yes, I am Miss girly girl, and that won't stop me from kicking your balls if you keep crying for help with the results of the bet you lost."
"So you want to talk about losing bets? What about the Persepolis match?"
"Pff, I will pay you..." She said, turning her face away. "I will get you your poem."
"Poem? I thought we settled with a kiss if I won, and if you did I'd have to move your stuff. And then you came up with the other bet, and now I have to both move your stuff alone and got no kiss..." Babak said as he looked at her in a goofy way.
"I said I could do a poem as good as a kiss, and that's how this whole ordeal started. I'll make your poem, so stop crying. I'll go see my new neighbors."
"Ok, I'll handle back the keys when I finish getting those to your place..."
"No prob!" She said, walking backwards and doing finger guns, as she entered the building.
She greeted the handyman and made her way up the stairs, since the elevator was broken. The place's manager told her the building had just been finished a couple of months back, but something felt fishy. It was not like the place looked dangerous or unstable, it was only that  it  had small cracks and bumps, as if the place was really old. The paint was cracked and dropping in chunks too. But she wasn't the one to  judge all of that so proactively. That was the only place in the capital which she could afford.
She caught a glimpse on the corner of her eye, something moving close to the wall. On the last steps to her floor, a quick turn. Nothing. A mildly unsettling feeling stuck to the air. 'The place must accept pets… ' She didn't remember anything regarding that on the contract, though.
She opened the door to the 5th floor. There were 2 apartments in each floor, and the entrance to the one of her front door neighbor was open.  All the way inside of it, a modern interior design with old furniture. 'I guess they bought it all from second hands too…' She knocked on the open wooden door. An old crackly voice answered from inside:
"If it is Mr. Alborz, you can go screw yourself with your 'rightful demands'."
And then another voice came in, at first arguing with the previous one, but then complementing:
"If not, please do come in, we're having tea."
She went in.
Among the furniture there were many portraits, almost all of them more or less faded. Among those, there were a couple of digital frames, going through many pictures. There were also some cat sculptures, and some sort of small wooden tabs in a corner, with christian imagery in them.
Another shadow in the corner of her eye. It moved by a mirror in the living room. Cold went down her neck as she kept walking.
Two old women sat by the kitchen table, their hair as white as the cloudy sky and their faces full of wrinkles, almost like desert valleys. The youngest looking one, that wore an eyepatch, argued about intestines, while the eldest-looking seemed to not listen, as she kept adjusting her sunglasses.
"Goddamnit, Gulsim. I'm a friggin nurse and I'm tellin' ya, that is not how stomachs work!"
"Save your hogwash for another day Kamila, we've got a guest."
They've both turned towards her, she quickly responded:
"Hi! Um, I'm moving in next door. My name's Hul…" And as she said, she extended her hand so they could shake it.
"Hul...? Never heard a name like that before.", said Gulsim stroking her chin, while Kamila grabbed her hand and started to examine it.
"Erm, yeah. I was supposed to be named Gul, just like nana, but she mispronounced it to the register."
"I see. That's still a pretty nice name though, Hul…"
Kamila looked at her hand intently,  pulling it, making Hul stay on one feet.
"You're pretty active, aren'tcha? And also pretty certain of yourself, never been hurt badly, in either way, and like to think well before doing anything, eh?"
Hul pulled her hand back and held it close.
"How do you know that?"
"I'm a good guesser."  Said Kamila, winking.
"She did a course on hand reading." Complemented Gulsim, while filling a cup of tea for Hul. Kamila looked back at her with her one eye, mad, and then pulled a chair.
"Anyway, have a seat, deary. We have enough tea for five here. Pretty boring to spend an afternoon only by ourselves. Oh, and you can take that thing off. We're christian here, no worries for needing to cover yourself."
Hul took the seat and got her hair loose, looking back at the door so she could hear Babak carrying the boxes. She smiled and thought of bringing something of the tea for him later. The small table had all biscuits she already knew from all the way back to her childhood, and the samavar couldn't be any more familiar.  Both women argued with each other constantly, so Hul was always changing the subject. Gulsim was 85, Kamila 67. Both of them had cataract, the first in both of her eyes but the second only on her right one. After a lot of gossiping, all three of them seemed to be very comfortable, so Hul decided to ask about the building.


A nice arrival at a new place. Things couldn't be going smoother! Well, all for a couple of glimpses into the abyss.
Will this story finally have anything to scare our poor readers?
Come get some more right here!