Small Town Gothic

When the screams started, the Townspeople gathered and whispered at the front door of the abandoned church. Years passed and the screams became background noise for the Town. Now, the Townspeople are gathered there once again, standing and whispering at the now silent building.

The arcade closed years ago. The only thing left is a fortune teller. Teens love to use it as they hang out. Most fortunes read, “Good friends are rare.” Today, it gave everyone who used it, “Have you ever heard your own scream? Soon, you will.” Afterwards, it finally shut down.

The Townspeople greet each other the same way every day. The first says, “Wake up.” The reply is, “Dreams must be better than this.” Both Townspeople then walk away, with no memory of the interaction.

There are no roads out of Town. There is a hiking trail that opens randomly, however. No one takes it, because no one has ever come back. The trail is open again tonight. The back of the sign is covered in scratched and bloody messages. The only legible one is “Join us”

While difficult to define what makes a Town, we are happy to announce that we have reached 250 Townspeople questioning their reality/sanity/selves in our mysterious Town. We both hope for and dread the thought of continuing to entrap more poor souls into joining the Townspeople.

My door is different. I think it looks the same as before, but I don’t remember it being at the foot of my bed. I definitely don’t remember the knob turning by itself like that.

There is a new store being built on the town square. The previous store closed down because it was “haunted” and the owner was “afraid for my life.” The new store owner says that people should not fear the spirits that were in the store. They should fear the ones he’s bringing in

@ErgotPress This is eerily close to our Town’s charter that was chiseled out of a stone slab and found in the City Hall attic the day of our first elections. We don’t know who made it, but every time it’s taken out of City Hall, a new one appears in the attic as the old one turns to dust.

ambient horror | religious horror | conceptual horror | symbolic horror | abstract horror | anti-horror | gnostic horror | art horror | the distant | the ineffable | the horror of language | the horror of consciousness | the horror of being

@wondravanian Our Town is used to this comparison. @NightValeRadio is a lovely place, but our Townspeople are kept in our Town by something… ancient. They want to visit our spiritual Sister City, but they can’t seem to leave, though maybe that’s for the benefit of Night Vale.

Houses are always for sale. We never see who moves in. We never know who moves out. Something clearly lives in these houses, though. The lights are on at night and we can hear words being spoken. When you try and introduce yourself, there is only another for sale sign in the yard

@2021Susanne The Townspeople are unfamiliar with the feeling of loneliness. We are taught from an early age that we are never truly alone. Shadows watch us. Doorways welcome us. The beings in the corner of our eyes are always right there, waiting.

There are times when the Town is just… gone. It only returns if a Stranger wanders across the town limits. When that happens, the Stranger is gone, and the Town is back. We never find the Strangers, but our town is grateful. Some say that’s how our Town grows, but we aren’t sure

Things go missing here. Phones and keys vanish without warning. Pets escape from locked houses and latched gates. If a child wanders away in the grocery store, they may not be found for several years. When they are found, however, they haven’t aged a day and something is… off.

I go to therapy twice a week. I have been going for 7 years. Last week, my therapist asked me to participate in a study, recording our sessions. I agreed. Today, I saw the recording. It’s of me, seven years ago, talking to a mirror. I asked my therapist, but saw only a mirror.

There is something in the desert. The hikers say it is almost human looking, although they can never agree on the specifics. They all agree, however, that when it screams, it sounds like a child. Worse than that, they say, is its laugh. When it laughs, you know it can’t be human.

There is a store of mirrors downtown. The owner is always disheveled and fidgety. His mirrors are always covered in tarps. When you ask to buy one, he tells you that you can’t look. “No one likes the things they see in it,” he says. “They aren’t quite us.”

@EMCWritesPoetry Our Town is always happy to hear from @_voidspace_zine. Our Townspeople always look forward to the void’s call

Hey #writingcommunity, who's a writerly person on here that just always makes your TL better? Tag them below, and mention why. Just 1 person, mind! Let's celebrate those making this bird app a better place! (RTs appreciated!)

When it snows, the children know they are only allowed to play in groups. Even the youngest of them are aware that if they go out alone, all that will be found are strange, unknown footprints leading away from their last known location.

There are two churches in town. Both dislike the other. Both say that theirs is the only “true God.” Neither one can tell you why their God is the correct one. Both looked afraid when I asked them to name It. Both chained up their doors shortly after they said its name.

There is a campsite near the edge of Town. The parking lot is always full. We’ve never seen anyone leave, but every few years, something takes the oldest cars away. The following week, a new batch of cars take their spots.