70 parts Ongoing There are doors we aren't meant to open. Shadows we aren't meant to follow. Names we should never say out loud.
This book is full of them.
What you're holding is not just a collection of stories-it's a cabinet of whispers, a lantern lowered into places where the light doesn't reach. Inside, you'll find echoes of old folklore that refuse to die, modern horrors born from the glow of our own devices, and visions of futures that feel far too close to tomorrow. Some are short glimpses, sharp as a blade in the dark. Others sprawl long enough to trap you inside them. All of them are meant to unsettle.
You may recognize some tales. The hitchhiker who never arrives at her destination. The children are singing a song no adult remembers. The figure at your window when you live twenty stories up. But here, the familiar turns feral. The safe stories you thought you knew will twist, growing teeth in the telling.
Be warned: these stories are not designed for comfort. They're meant to crawl beneath your skin, to follow you after you've shut the book, to linger in the silence of your room when the night is at its deepest. Read them in daylight, if you must. But if you choose to read them in the dark, with only the sound of your own breathing for company-don't say you weren't warned when something in the quiet starts breathing back.
Turn the page if you're ready.
The stories are waiting.
And some of them already know your name.
