A mad man with a head full of butterflies, and a disfigured girl with a mysterious past, a curious pair spiralling down a chaotic path. https://www.instagram.com/p/CIysbaChVtv/?igshid=1b3x6c8xhvfdl
In short, I write horror and stuff. Tap the link in my bio. Sorry for the abrupt ending in the video. Had to make it a minute long. https://www.instagram.com/p/CIyU65-hEP5/?igshid=oh32m6pudeqz
If you're up for it - if the warnings in the trailer haven't turned you away already - click on the link in my bio and read this odd, grotesque tale. https://www.instagram.com/p/CIqhET4Bd8J/?igshid=hstz76tic71
If you're up for it - if the warnings in the trailer haven't turned you away already - go ahead and read this odd, grotesque tale; you'll find it in the link in my bio. https://www.instagram.com/p/CIqga9zhV36/?igshid=tlpqbsnftqbu
If you love escape rooms, puzzles and CYOA games, you'll love this. And if you get the good ending, you'll get an exclusive psychological drama e-novella. Click the link in my bio or go to byemberlight.com/fix-me to begin. https://www.instagram.com/p/CIiV6oshVaE/?igshid=k027ozefg3u3
Based on a true story: In the dead of night, an eerie turn of events betides four blissfully unaware teenage girls. Estimated reading time: 3.7 minutes
Late past midnight, group of friends hanging out, senseless jokes—for many, those’re the staples of the fun young days. Unfortunately for this group of four teenage girls, they’re going to be thinking twice when hanging out past midnight again.
The four girls are sitting around in their hostel room, cracking dumb jokes, having a fun time. Hours pass, and one of them decides to take a shower before hitting the sack. And if one girl goes, all girls go, so they all gather their shower things—towels, change of clothes, etcetera—and they all leave together.
These girls aren’t rascals, so they’re being considerate when walking the quiet hallway: lowering their voices, stifling their laughs, chuckling quietly, shushing one another if the other’s too loud because, as far as they know, everyone else in this hostel is sound asleep. Most lights are shut; everywhere’s quiet.
The downstairs hall is where all the facilities are—café, gym, and the shower where they’re headed—and just like everywhere else, the entire hall is dim-lit. Only enough lighting for people to find their way around, in the case of someone being awake around this time.
So, they make it to the twin doors of the shower and…
Open, squeeeeak; close, BANG—remember that—these heavy twin doors are not quiet in any way. And take note, this is an echoey place, so every slight movement can be heard. But now they’re in a space where they can talk, laugh, joke, wrestle, do it all loudly.
In this shower, there are cubicles for each showerhead, so every user has their privacy. While talking, each girl enters a cubicle neighboring one another and they continue conversing while bathing, raising their voices so that they can be heard over the pitter-patter of falling water.
One of them cracks a joke, all four of them laugh. But then…
For this very reason, in the stories I write and in almost everything creative I do, I try my best to steer clear of cliches and conventional routes. And it is a practice you should try yourself, too. Besides, how boring would the world be if everything and everyone was just 'normal', right? Tap the link in my bio @byemberlight to check out my works and buy my book. https://www.instagram.com/p/B-tkWLOAilS/?igshid=bitpybded4ct
Based on a true story: In a dismal place, sinister things lie in wait for two brothers treading a gloomy stairwell. Estimated reading time: 7 minutes
Downstream condominiums, Malaysia, 2004. Talk about a condo that had significantly more units than people. Not to say that those vacant units were ‘empty’, per se. There were definitely other things lurking within those ‘empty’ places. Walk up to any random resident and they’ll always have a story to tell about disturbing noises coming from their inexistent neighbors, or disembodied screams right outside their 15th-storey window, or fleeting shadows in the corner of their eyes—all sorts of strange stories along these lines. And let’s not even talk about homicide and suicide.
Living there, even if the weather forecast said the day would be ‘bright and sunny,’ Downstream was always gloomy, always shrouded under dark clouds. Every wall discolored, drab and grey and blotched with stains, creepers climbing up to windows, alleyways littered with trash, smelling of piss, flies buzzing.
And the ever so caring management at the time, made sure that the lift hardly ever worked, probably because when it did, it’d always stop on the fourth floor, without fail, every trip. Stereotypical horror style, here’s how it goes: lift stops, fourth floor, doors open and… lo and behold, that same old rusty, ‘empty’ wheelchair’s just sitting there in the dark. It’s a stereotype because these sorts of sightings have happened one time too many. For real—that’s how it went.
Talking about the dark: every fluorescent light in every stairwell, corridor and lift lobby were either dim, or flickering, or just straight-up busted. The ever so loving, caring management, made sure that the residents got only the best experience, having us all take trips through dusky, dingy stairwells and climbing all the way up to our places.
Needless to say, Downstream condominiums was one of the most haunted places my family and I had ever lived. We stayed on the 17th floor, so it was always a fun trip taking the stairs. This was all the way back in 2004 when my middle brother was 13 and I was 11. I was, and still am, the youngest of three brothers.
All sorts of stories we heard from friends in the area, and we have several of our own, but this one’s the worst yet. Here’s how it goes:
As kids, my middle brother and I were dumb enough to think that we had to take our cat for walks like a dog. So, on the day that shook our childhood, we were walking the cat. Dusk was just about setting when we decided to call it a day. Fat cat in my arms, we head back home after a round or two around the condo; took a turn into our block, caught a brief glimpse of some teenagers hanging out in the lift lobby. The lift wasn’t working—as it so frequently was—so it was strange that those teenagers were just hanging out around there, but we didn’t give it much thought. Teenagers are strange anyway.
On either side of the lift lobby are the stairwell entrances. Both stairwells were just as equally dingy because, of course, the doting management loved us so much.
From where we enter, we take the stairwell on the left, and we wouldn’t have guessed it was the wrong choice.
I’m the one holding the cat, and I’m walking several steps ahead of my brother. When I take the first flight of stairs up to the first landing, my brother’s still on the ground floor, just about reaching the stairwell entrance.
Then, for some reason, the fat cat in my arms starts freaking out all of a sudden—and he’s fat, and he’s strong, and he’s really freaking the hell out. Eventually, he breaks free from my grasp and scampers the heck out from the stairwell, all terrified, fur all standing. Right after this happens, my brother, who’s still on the ground floor, shouts my name out, so I turn around and look down at him from where I’m standing on the first landing. He’s looking up at the corner slightly behind him, so I look up at what he’s looking at.
My blood drains. I become a straight-up white dude—and I was, and always will be, a dark-skinned Malaysian dude, aside from this particular terrifying moment, I become the whitest dude in town.
So, my jaw drops, eyes widen, and I legitimately cannot feel my face at all. In the shadows of the upper corner near the stairwell entrance, I see...
A very good friend indeed. Head over to byemberlight.com and buy yourself a loyal friend. . . . #quotestoliveby #buybooks #booklover #bookish #bookstagram #bookworm #booknerd #freeshortstories #writingcommunity https://www.instagram.com/p/B-f3Jsmhog6/?igshid=wls9np6mp9or
And strangeness is a necessary ingredient in my #stories. So, along the lines of Charles Boudelaire's words, my stories are beautiful. Headover to byemberlight.com for free short stories or to #buyabook . . . #horrorgeek #horrornerd #quotestoliveby #quotesaboutlife #buybooks #booklover #bookish #bookstagram #bookworm #booknerd #freeshortstories https://www.instagram.com/p/B-ZG_QdDtrS/?igshid=f4b5fh1k82xq
Talk about tales, head over to byemberlight.com for free short stories or to buy a book. Remember, it's not about how long it is, but how good it is. #horrorgeek #horrornerd #quotestoliveby #quotesaboutlife #buybooks #booklover #bookish #bookstagram #bookworm #booknerd #freeshortstories https://www.instagram.com/p/B-AFmJshHdH/?igshid=9s3ma7t8wdu1
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