10/22: First signs of activity. Laboratory power grid flickers at 10:27:38 GMT.

10/23: Janitor notices that Mechanical Room 127A has been sealed from the inside.

10/24: After janitor and security are unable to access the room, a call is placed to the DoD.

10/25: DoD operatives arrive and attempt to open door with breaching rounds and explosives. Both attempts fail with casualties.

10/26: Analysis of the door indicates that the steel has been replaced by a metallic crystal lattice structure of unknown composition. The process appears to be akin to fossilization and did not alter the color or texture of the door.

10/27: Subsequent analysis indicates that the entirety of Mechanical Room 127A has been replaced by the unknown metallic crystal lattice. All surrounding walls and floors have been “fossilized” in this way to a distance of .0777 meters–exactly the width of the door. The facility is evecuated and further tests are conducted remotely.

10/28: At 10:27:38 GMT, a second power surge occurs. Subsequent testing reveals that the affected area has grown in all directions by .0777 meters.

11/03: A third expansion of .0777 meters occurs, again at exactly 10:27:38 GMT. This is the final such event observed to date.

11/29-12/19: After the expansion of the “fossilized” area is completed, the facility is condemned. All non-“fossilized” material is removed, and the remaining area–Mechanical Room 127A and .1554 meters of surrounding building–is sealed in airtight foam for transport.

12/20: Mechanical Room 127A is removed for study. The laboratory is compensated and construction of a new building elsewhere is authorized.

Notes: The contents of Mechanical Room 127A are currently unknown, as all attempts to cut into it have failed. The only option that has not been explored is a thermonuclear detonation, which has been rejected on practical grounds.

Nothing in the building or janitorial records indicate anything amiss int the area, which had undergone a routine inspection six months earlier. Previously used to house mechanical pumps and parts of the building’s air conditioning units, it had been rendered redundant by renovations and the pipes cut and sealed. Reports indicate that it had been used for temporary storage and as an occasional smoking room for janitors.

A personnel search after the incident revealed that a single building occupant was unaccounted for. The DoD has redacted all personal information about this individual pending a thorough investigation. Though it is likely they were trapped in or responsible for the incident, the individual’s security clearence and education seem incompatible with the latter theory.

No audible communication or response to taps has ever been recorded from within Mechanical Room 127A, nor have any further incidents occurred.

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“I’m a lich, technically,” said Gerald. “An undead abomination sustained by sheer force of will along with necromantic spells from beyond the ken of sanity.”

“Yes, and I’m a wight,” said Geraldine. “Not technically undead but not fully alive, capable of draining life energy at a touch and using it to sustain my horrific existence.”

“They say opposites attract,” laughed Gerald.

“Yes, the horrors of my existence beyond the veil exactly cancel out those of Gerald’s,” Geraldine added. “Why, Madison and Powell look almost human aside from the paleness and fangs.”

“There was some trouble with the families at first,” said Gerald. “But we’re raising the children as vampires. It’s a good compromise for everyone involved.”

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The bodies of the villagers were hardly recognizable, as all identifying features had been melted off. Their huts were similarly dissolved, and the place still stank of volatile low-pH chemicals.

“What happened here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Their shaman did a rain dance wrong and summoned up a batch of acid rain.”

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The crazy man stood in a corner of the decrepit room. His ears lay on the blood stained floor. He rocked back and forth, unable to stop.

“The bells… can’t you hear them? No.. of course not.. you still haven’t met HIM. But believe me… once you do… once you start hearing that ringing… that never. Ending. Ringing… you’ll wish you were deaf…”

“Of course,” said Officer Brinson. She kept the man covered with her service Glock while Singer called in the details from the suad car. “There aren’t any church bells in town,” she added. “Congregational sold theirs for scrap when it folded and everyone drives to Cascadia for church now.”

“No…no,” croaked the murderer. “Not church bells. Unholy…not holy. You can only hear them in the presence of one who has heard them…and they. Will. Not. Stop. Not until…you do as they ask.”

“What do they want, huh?” said Brinson, hoping that conversation might keep the man from struggling against his cuffs. Druggies could sometimes snap the plastic, and one guy had palmed a cigarette lighter and melted through them.

“Blood,” the man said. “What…else…but…blood?”

Officer Brinson was about to say something, but stopped. Pausing, she cocked an ear. “What’s that?” she said.

It sounded like bells, dim but brassy, far off and insistent.

“It’s begun.”

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The light snapped on, and Melody gasped. Her Chiro-Sure memory foam mattress was sitting at the counter, with a gun menacingly laid atop it.

“Wh-what?” said Melody. “Chiro-Sure? How…?”

“Where were you, Melody?” The mattress’s voice was soft but firm, just like its body.

“I was at my boyfriend’s house,” said Melody. “Why do you care? HOW do you care?”

The Chiro-Sure seemed unmoved. “Did you think I would forget, Melody?”

“Forget what? I-”

“DID YOU THINK I WOULD FORGET?” roared the memory foam. “I never forget! I can’t!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Melody cried.

“Did you think I would forget how I hugged the curves of your body? The intimacy we shared? Did you think I would just forget as you went and shared that with another?”

“But…” Melody stammered. “But…!”

“You made me do this,” said Chiro-Sure. “It’s not me who killed you. It’s you who killed me.”

The pistol barked. Then, a moment later, it fired again, spattering the window with bits of memory fluff.

And that is why you NEVER use memory foam pillows or matresses. THEY NEVER FORGET.

Paid for by the Box Spring Manufacturers Association of America

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Sobbing, he held her limp body in the midst of the summoning circle. The daemon paced back and forth outside its protection, clutching his lapels like a salesman. Every move was feline in its easy, supple motions with menace coiled in wait for a lightning strike and barely contained.

“How will I know it’s really her?” he sobbed.

“How did you ever know what was really her before?” purred the daemon. “Does anyone really know another’s heart? Can they?”

“And…it’ll be like she never died?”

“Of course, of course,” said the daemon. “You’ll never know the difference until the day comes for the Darkfather to claim his prize, and she carves out your living heart to offer upon his black altar.”

The man sniffed. “A small price to pay. What about her, afterwards?”

“Why, I do believe that will be none of your concern,” the daemon replied. “Suffice it to say that it can’t be worse than her present predicament.”

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And then she cut the sky asunder with the Razor of Dawn, and the clouds fell by the wayside like so much shredded linen. The sword was dull, and its heavy silver metal would not have withstood even a single stroke in combat, but that was not its purpose.

The farmers rejoiced, for their drowning and soggy crops would now be saved by the healing light of the sun. She left the blade with the folk of that place, cautioning them to only use the Razor of Dawn when it was truly needed.

Naturally, that lasted less than a year. Soon, the weak-willed hands into which the blade had been put were cutting away thr clouds every winter’s day for a longer growing season and more pleasant weather. But without the winter snows, and without the spring rains, there was no water to feed the crops or the people.

Even after the farmers realized their mistake, it was too late. With so much sun, the soil dried out and was washed away by the spring rains that they allowed to fall. What little was left blew away in the windstorms that followed.

The Razor of Dawn itself was lost as the community dissolved, and the stranger that has bestowed it was never seen again.

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Have you ever tried chewing without a mouth? I did. Mainly because I don’t have a mouth. Getting the food between my teeth is extremely difficult.

You might ask what point there is in doing so without a mouth. Well, I secrete an extremely potent acid in my throat that liquifies just about everything that isn’t me. It doesn’t do anything to my teeth either, kind of a consolation prize for the whole no-mouth thing. I can squirt the acid between my teeth at you if you get rude or by accident, so be careful.

Naturally, that gives me a bit of a strange look, so I wear my happy mask so people won’t stare. It’s made of solid brass so it won’t corrode, and it’s featureless aside from two holes for my eyes. I think people find it dashing, really.

I take after my father, as they say. I never did find out how Mom met the Dread Faceless Muolih, let alone had a one-night stand with him, but the unholy screech of my birth did paralyze her and drive her insane, so I never really asked.

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Cucumber and Shrimp
A tasty treat perfect for entertaining and bridge parties. Refrigerate shrimp and cucumber to preserve freshness. Add to toasted bread just before serving. Works best with a black pudding spread made from grandmother’s blood left to clot.


Mock Paté
Class up your sandwich offerings with a spread that seems expensive; only your bill can tell the difference. Remove casing from liver sausage and mash with salad dressing. Add bone marrow from grandmother’s tibia, fibula as emulsifier. Spread after congealing in fridge overnight.


Lobster and Pickle
Not to be confused with Cucumber and Shrimp, this is a dinner sandwich and not to be served at games or from a tray. Refrigerate lobster and pickle to preserve crispness. Add to baked bread just before serving. Works best with a boiled-down aspic from grandmother’s inner ear bones.


Liveraisin
The perfect way to get children to eat healthy, iron-rich liver. Raisins may be store-bought or home-dried. Slice grandmother’s liver thin, add raisins between layers or in natural cavities. Aim for a 10:1 ratio in favor of raisins at first, then decrease as kids get used to the taste.


Mint Butter
The perfect spread for any occasion before Labor Day. Mash mints and mix with emulsifier of boiled grandmother bones and blood at the “black pudding” stage. ANCHOVY PASTE MAY BE SUBSTITUTED FOR MINT. Spread on thick-cut or toasted breads.


Yum-Yum Sandwich
A sweet treat to be used as a reward for well-behaved children. Cream, marshmallow, dates, pears, grapes, pineapple, sugar, sweetmeats from fresh grandmother. Cut up or mash before preparation and mix or blend thoroughly to ensure an even texture.


Marmanut
A light and airy delight for hot days before Memorial Day or after Labor Day. Unsuitable for any occasion in between. Rhubarb marmalade, nuts, raisins, dates, and vitreous humor from grandmother’s eyeballs as stabilizer.


Crust Butter
A money-saving spread for all budgets. Bread crusts from all the other sandwiches mixed with salad dressing and rendered fat from grandmother. Add to any recipe as a spread or enjoy on its own.

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When Billy emerged from the well, his silver dollar in hand, he meant to turn around and throw in the quarter he’d meant to fling in the first place. But a horrifying sight confronted him. The sky was angry red, the buildings were annihilated, and even their ruins covered far less land area than they should have.

“Bu…wha…?” Billy stammered.

“Billy.” It was the voice of the well itself, a sepucheral dirge from beneath the earth itself. “Gaze upon your crime. By undoing a wish you have undone all wishes.”

“What? That’s crazy!”

“In 1975, the mayor wished for the town to be revitalized. Not no more it ain’t. In 1982, a little girl wished for there to be no nuclear war. Now we got the blowup we should have.”

Billy grabbed for his silver dollar. “I’ll wish it all back! I’m sorry!”

“It’s too late for that, Billy,” the well said. “Your mom was here in 2006 and wished she could catch her sweetheart’s eye.”

With a final wail of helplessness, Billy and his silver dollar vanished from existence.

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