Welcome to the Twisted World of the Supernatural: Curated by Douye Soroh.

  A man in black screaming while a demon stand behind him on a field of green. The people of the Green Land were a joyful folk. The earth itself seemed to love them; it was rich, green, and endlessly fertile. No matter the season, the harvests poured forth in abundance. Fruit hung heavy on every branch, grain bowed low in the fields, and the rivers ran sweet and clear. For generation after generation they had known nothing but plenty and happiness. They called their home a paradise and believed it would remain so forever. But even in paradise, darkness can take root. Evans was not content. He burned with resentment toward the leadership of the Green Land , convinced he could rule far better than the present king. For years he had coveted the crown, yet the people had chosen King Congo the Mighty in a fair contest. Evans had lost, and though he smiled through the ceremonies, he never accepted the result. He claimed Congo had cheated him in the final moments. The people only laughe...

  Dark fantasy book cover for "Twisted Stories: The Oracle's Debt" by Douye Soroh. Features a bleeding stone altar with a large mystical eye, hooded ritual figures, and a misty ancient village. Note to Readers: Certain details in this record have been obscured. The rituals of the village are too dark for the light of day, and some words are best left to the shadows. Use your imagination—though it may lead you to terrifying places. The Oracle's Debt It was an ancient village, older than memory itself. The people cared for little else besides their fetish beliefs and ancient customs. Every dispute, no matter how small, was settled by the deity, and the deity’s solution always demanded blood. There was never a conflict in that village that did not end with blood on the ground. Greg, grandson of the oracle, had seen too much. He had stood beside his grandfather at nearly every sacrifice and watched rivers of red soak the earth. One day, after yet another ritual, he could ...

A man sitting on veranda listening to music - story of heartbreak and a woman standing behind him. " We’ve all had those moments where a song on the radio hits us right in the heart. For my friend Patrick, it was a Celine Dion classic that opened up a world of pain he had been hiding for years. This is a story about heartbreak, 'charm', and the unexpected way love finds us when we’ve given up." Can Music Heal a Broken Heart? Patrick’s Journey to Finding Love Again The evening sun was a bruised orange, hanging low over the horizon as Patrick sat on his veranda. He was a man suspended in time, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts, staring at the dust motes dancing in the fading light. To anyone passing by, he looked like a man resting after a long day’s work, but internally, Patrick was drowning. Life had begun to feel heavy, like a leaden coat he couldn’t strip off. Every breath felt intentional, every movement a chore. The silence of the neighborhood was suddenly punctured...

  A dark, cinematic horror book cover illustration for "The Harvest of Hawthorne Lane." On the left, a lone figure in a hooded coat stands before a looming, haunted Victorian mansion during a blizzard. On the right, a surreal and terrifying interior scene shows distorted faces emerging from rose-patterned wallpaper, a rotary phone on a table, and several pale, struggling figures on a dark floor. The Harvest of Hawthorne Lane It was a bitter winter night, snow piling in thick drifts while the wind screamed like a tornado. Anyone with sense stayed indoors, huddled around fireplaces with steaming mugs. Those caught outside cursed their luck and scrambled for warmth. The homeless raced toward the shelters the city slapped together every December—long lines for watery soup with a single chunk of carrot and gristle, plus a stale heel of bread if you were quick. The ones who refused help gathered under bridges or in alleyways, feeding scrap-wood fires that spat more smoke than heat....

  A young man standing on a rock by the stream, under a sign Welcome To The Spirit Land. An Innocent Invitation Wayne wasn’t happy about going home for the holidays. Trouble waited there like clockwork—one misunderstanding, one spilled cup of water, and the whole house erupted. He came from a polygamous family where his mother and the other wives turned peace into a myth. Just thinking about it drained him. He sighed, staring out the dormitory window. Could I just stay here? For two years, this school had been his real home. A sudden bump snapped him back. Wale grinned beside him. “A penny for your thoughts?” “Don’t be dramatic. I wasn’t dreaming.” “Yeah, but thinking, eh?” Wale teased. “Just a little. Nothing big.” Wale laughed. “If I know you, that’s a lie. You were thinking something huge.” “Not this time,” Wayne said with a sad sigh. “Come on, man. Spill.” “You know my house. I’ve told you enough.” “Yeah, so?” “I don’t want to go back. Not to that chaos.” Wale raised an eyebrow...