Obscura: Projected Sacrifices

Obscura: Projected Sacrifices

Written By: Lance J. Gosnell

In a world where parallel dimensions were real, every movie depicting on-screen deaths held a chilling secret. These scenes were no mere Hollywood magic tricks but rather glimpses into an alternate dimension where those deaths were a reality. The people in those dimensions were abducted and murdered, their lives sacrificed for the sake of cinematic art.

Amidst this backdrop, a devoted movie fan named Alex found themselves on a guided tour of a famous movie studio. As they roamed through elaborate sets and behind-the-scenes areas, they stumbled upon a hidden room. Inside, they discovered undeniable evidence of the horrifying connection between the movies and the real deaths. Shocked and terrified, Alex knew they had to expose the truth.

As Alex delved deeper into their discovery, they began to uncover a web of deceit, cover-ups, and corruption. The dark underbelly of the entertainment industry was revealed, implicating not only studios but also directors, actors guilds, and even powerful producers. The guilty parties were determined to keep their secret hidden at any cost, and they went to great lengths to maintain their facade of innocence.

Alex’s pursuit of the truth put them in danger as they became a target of those who would stop at nothing to protect the status quo. Dodging threats, intimidation, and close encounters with mysterious figures, Alex enlisted the help of a determined investigative journalist and a tech-savvy friend. Together, they fought to expose the horrifying reality behind the movie industry’s facade.

As the truth began to surface, public outrage and condemnation spread like wildfire. Protests erupted outside studios, actors publicly disavowed their roles, and fans grappled with the moral implications of their beloved films. Legal battles ensued, leading to high-stakes court proceedings that pitted the victims’ families against the powerful figures involved in the cover-up.

In the midst of the chaos, some of the guilty parties attempted to distance themselves from the scandal, shifting blame onto others and manipulating the media narrative. They hired high-powered lawyers and used their influence to cast doubt on the evidence and smear the reputations of those who sought justice.

The aftermath of the revelation was both a reckoning and a turning point. The guilty parties faced varying degrees of consequences, some being held accountable for their actions while others managed to escape with their reputations intact. The movie industry was forever changed, with heightened scrutiny over the content being produced and a renewed commitment to ethical practices.

In this story, the bad guys weren’t confined to a single group; instead, culpability extended across the industry’s power structure. The aftermath showcased the complexity of human nature, the struggle for justice, and the profound impact of exposing uncomfortable truths.

Terra Firma Expanse: Time's Lost Realm

Title: Terra Firma Expanse: Time’s Lost Realm

Written By:  Lance J.  Gosnell

In a quaint little town, lived a young and inquisitive child named Elliot. Known for having an imagination that could rival the universe itself, Elliot often found solace in the worlds he conjured within his mind. Despite his active imagination, he had no actual friends to share his adventures with.

One day, while exploring the woods near his home, Elliot stumbled upon a mysterious doorway unlike any he had seen before. The door emitted a soft, ethereal glow, and curiosity compelled him to step through. Little did he know, this doorway led to a realm known as the Terra Firma Expanse – a land between time where all things lost and forgotten came to reside.

In this mesmerizing realm, Elliot discovered a world beyond his wildest dreams. He encountered both good and bad individuals who had once vanished from his real world. Among them was the brave aviator Amelia Earhart, who had become a protector of the Expanse. She explained that people who ended up here were considered lost in the “real world,” their stories forgotten by history.

As Elliot journeyed through this enigmatic land, he formed unexpected friendships with lost souls from various eras. Together with Amelia Earhart, they set out on a quest to find a way for Elliot to return to his own world. Along the way, they encountered enigmatic creatures, vibrant landscapes, and the remains of missing socks that had slipped through time and space.

But the Terra Firma Expanse wasn’t without its challenges. The same forces that had brought Elliot to this realm sought to keep him trapped there forever. As they navigated through trials and tribulations, Elliot and his newfound companions learned that to escape the Expanse, they had to find the mythical “Key of Memories” – an artifact rumored to hold the power to open doorways between worlds.

Their journey was perilous, yet it united Elliot and his eclectic group of friends in ways he could have never imagined. Through courage, determination, and the magic of friendship, they faced down the shadows of the Expanse and unraveled its mysteries, uncovering the true nature of the lost land between time.

“Terra Firma Expanse” is a captivating adventure fantasy that blends the real and unreal, the known and the lost. It’s a tale of discovery, resilience, and the power of imagination, reminding us that even in the most unexpected places, friendships can bloom, and extraordinary journeys await those who dare to dream.

Shadows of the Forsaken Light: A Tale of a Traffic Light

Shadows of the Forsaken:  

A Tale of a Traffic Light

Written By:  Lance J.  Gosnell

In the eerie confines of a forgotten Arkansas town, nestled in the foothills of the Ozarks. It was in the tumultuous 1990s that the city utility worker met his untimely end, consumed by a malevolent current while fixing a traffic light. His body vanished without a trace, swallowed by darkness. Whispers of the Dixie Mafia’s sinister involvement began to crawl like shadows through the town.

Two decades later, a teenage girl named Emily stumbled upon an enigmatic artifact in her grandfather’s musty garage – an old traffic light, its once-bright colors now dulled by time. Intrigue and trepidation twined in her heart as she discovered the link between this forsaken relic and her mother’s long-lost brother, the city worker who’d perished.

Emily’s journey into the macabre heart of the tale began. She unraveled the threads of a mournful connection – her mother’s secret sorrow for a brother never forgotten. The girl’s grandmother, worn by the weight of memory, whispered tales of the past and implored Emily to leave the traffic light be, to let it rest.

Yet, an insidious force tugged at the corners of Emily’s mind. The light seemed to shimmer with an eerie awareness, its signals shifting in her presence. Friends regaled her with chilling legends of the uncle’s demise, hinting at supernatural forces lingering around the traffic light.

Darkness weaved its tendrils deeper into Emily’s world as the traffic light’s sinister influence grew. She’d converse with it, though no voice emerged. Haunting whispers echoed through her mind, tempting her to unveil the truth buried in the shadows.

With each revelation, Emily’s grasp on reality wavered. The tragic tale unraveled – her uncle had meddled with the light’s colors, inadvertently disrupting the Dixie Mafia’s clandestine dealings. Their vengeance was swift and merciless.

As the mysteries coalesced, Emily confronted her grandmother, unearthing the truth that shattered their fragile equilibrium. In facing the past, the family found solace and closure, the traffic light transforming from a harbinger of dread into a poignant symbol of remembrance.

Still, the darkness had not fully receded. The traffic light retained its eerie consciousness, a silent sentinel guarding the secrets of the past. It stood as a stark reminder that some mysteries, like shadows, never truly fade, lurking just beyond the edge of perception. And in that Arkansas town, the tale lived on, a whisper in the wind and a chill down the spine, as timeless as the haunting glow of a traffic light at dusk.

Grave Intentions: A Macabre of Merriment

Grave Intentions: A Macabre of Merriment

Written By:  Lance J.  Gosnell

In a dimly lit funeral parlor, Clyde Haggerty, wiry and possibly insane, ranted with a voice that oscillated between a furious howl and a maniacal cackle. Across from him sat Mortimer Finch, portly and oozing a sleazy charm, embodying a caricatured of crookedness.

Their devious plan was simple: selling used body parts. As they exchanged wild ideas, Clyde’s mania matched by Mortimer’s oily persuasion, the tension was palpable. Mortimer’s belly jiggled like a bowl of jelly, a perfect contrast to Clyde’s twitchy nervousness.

But as Clyde’s conscience began to claw at him, his outbursts grew louder, his eyes wilder. Threatening to pull the plug on their scheme. Mortimer’s sweat-soaked forehead furrowed with concern effortlessly shift between comedy and gravity.

The plan’s impending collapse set off a chain reaction of absurd events. There were mishaps with mismatched body parts, comically frantic chase scenes through embalming rooms, and a misunderstanding involving a taxidermy display.

As the plot spiraled, Clyde and Mortimer found themselves in a whirlwind of darkly comic scenarios. It was a chaotic dance of larger-than-life personalities and bizarre mishaps, all set against the backdrop of their crumbling, morally questionable venture.

With the fate of their scheme hanging in the balance, Clyde’s erratic bursts of conscience and Mortimer’s slippery attempts to keep things afloat converged in a climax—a blend of hilarity and pathos, with frenetic energy and effortless charm taking center stage.

Cursed Flames of Transformation: A Lovecraftian Cosmic Tale

Cursed Flames of Transformation:  

A Lovecraftian Cosmic Tale

Written By:  Lance J.  Gosnell 

Inspired by the Curse of Yig and ‘Pezhephen’s True Home’ found on Atlas Obscura. 

In a realm where eldritch truths are whispered by unseen forces, Pezhephen and Elara found themselves ensnared in the coils of an insidious event. The Accursed Hall of Yig, a name that belied its dreadful nature, blazed with serpentine flames, undulating with a perverse grace. Amidst the sinister spectacle, Pezhephen’s gaze locked onto Elara’s, and without words, they understood the direness of their predicament.

Within the relentless inferno, their fervent discourse took on an unsettling cadence. Unearthly embers floated like remnants of forbidden lore, and amidst the hissing conflagration, Pezhephen’s voice resonated. “Elara, within this maelstrom, do you sense the stories twisted by these flames that both annihilate and reshape?”

Elara’s nod was a solemn acknowledgment, her eyes reflecting the flickering torment. “Indeed, Pezhephen. Just as the fire consumes reality, it births unholy revelations, unveiling aberrations amid the ruins of the mundane.”

Their words transcended the confines of the accursed hall, echoing through the domains of cosmic dread. As they navigated the inferno’s horror, their identities and yearnings became further exposed. Pezhephen’s utterances uncovered his dogged pursuit of arcane dominion, while Elara’s responses unveiled her eerie knack for finding beauty even within abominable desolation.

However, beneath the captivating discourse, a storm of discord raged like cosmic tempests. “Pezhephen,” Elara’s voice rose above the hiss of flames, “do these conflicts mirror the astral battles of ancient nightmares?”

Pezhephen’s eyes gleamed with a strange intensity, fixed upon the undulating blaze. “Perhaps, Elara. Just as star clusters collide to birth unspeakable monstrosities, conflicts also birth abhorrent transformation.”

Their dialogues delved into the core of cosmic despair, their voices entwined with the nightmarish narrative. Through their words, malign entities perceived the convergence and divergence of their viewpoints, a reflection of the twisted realities Pezhephen sought to weave together.

“In the entwining of minds and the cacophony of chaos,” Pezhephen declared amidst the infernal symphony, “dwells the irresistible draw of unfathomable exploration. Our world, akin to the cosmic abyss I envision, must embrace the void while losing its very soul.”

Elara’s voice softened amidst the abyssal backdrop. “Indeed, Pezhephen. Just as your cosmic chasm speaks of union, our lives mirror a dance between the familiar and the nightmarish. Your gaze, your insights, guide us through this danse macabre even within the flames.”

As the inferno raged on, their dialogues melded seamlessly with the overarching tale. The accursed hall and the writhing flames stood as symbols of their dread-bound bond, reflecting the sinister influence they wielded upon one another and the cosmos.

Over time, their shared insights devoured the discord that had once marred their communion. Their alliance led to revelations that bridged the chasms between realities, weaving a tapestry that united dimensions and tormented souls.

At the story’s zenith, the flames withdrew, leaving behind a transformed nightmare. The Hall of Yig remained as a monument to their cursed journey, a place where tendrils of destiny wove through ashes, crafting a tale that embraced the profane and the abhorrent. Amidst a realm of eldritch enigmas and amid the choreography of cosmic horror, union, and comprehension triumphed in the most unforeseen and terrifying of ways.

Ghosts of Allegations Past: The Frank Brown Story

Ghosts of Allegations Past: The Frank Brown Story

Written by Lance J.  Gosnell

Inspired from the historical account of the lynching of Frank Brown, the last recorded lynching in Faulkner County,  Arkansas. 

In the heart of a small town, within the ancient walls of a foreboding building, stood a museum that clung to a history of horror like a lingering specter. The museum director, with a voice that combined Southern charm and enigmatic allure, often felt a chilling presence as he recounted spine-tingling tales. His words rippled through dimly lit corridors, delivering shivers that traced icy paths down his spine, as if the very air was charged with unsettling energy.

On this moonlit night, the director gathered curious visitors within the main hall. He began to weave a tale that blurred history with the supernatural, drawing them into a narrative that evoked both fear and fascination.

“Welcome, my dear guests, to a narrative that blurs the lines between past and presence,” he began, his voice a seductive invitation. “In 1905, a dark cloud descended upon this quiet town. A man named Frank Brown, fate ensnared in suspicion, found himself accused of a vile crime whose stain endures in history.”

As the director’s words hung in the air, the room grew colder, and the audience leaned in, ensnared by the haunting atmosphere.

“Ah, my friends, Frank Brown—a name whispered in hushed tones, evoking fear and fascination. Accused of assaulting Arlena Lawrence and her innocent sons,” the director continued, his voice measured and genteel. “This act shattered the town’s tranquility and led to young Elzey’s death.”

The director’s voice wove dread, painting vivid images of terror, innocence lost, and a town consumed by fear.

“But the spectacle emerged when a furious mob dragged Frank from his jail cell—yes, the very room we stand in now—and led him to a gnarled tree, a sentinel to his fate. Under the pale moonlight, they enacted a gruesome finale, sending Frank into death’s embrace.”

As the director’s words flowed, the room transformed—the rustling leaves, distant mob echoes, and the tree’s mournful creak merged into an immersive symphony of a bygone era.

“But history isn’t simple, dear souls. Amidst shadows, an insistent question lingers: was Frank truly guilty? Even Sheriff Harrell, a Southern gentleman, doubted. Despite ‘worthless negro’ labels, Frank’s connection to the crime was fragile. Doubt lingered even as Frank’s life ended.”

The director’s voice grew softer, obscured truth etched into every syllable, as the room returned to its present state.

“As you tread history’s pathways, remember the past isn’t always straightforward. Frank’s whispers continue through these walls—a reminder that truths can be as elusive as mists, even in chilling circumstances.”

The room fell silent, heavy with the director’s words. The audience was cast into an enigmatic tale of accusation, vengeance, and veiled destiny. The museum became a stage where history and supernatural danced, a haunting exploration wrapped in a riveting performance.

As suspense peaked, the director’s gaze shifted to the stairs. A mischievous smile played upon his lips.

“Esteemed guests, who’s audacious enough to venture up these stairs and greet Frank?”

Tension pulsed as a brave figure emerged. The director’s smile widened, approval glistening.

“A valiant soul indeed. Ascend, brave friend. Don’t let the past dissuade you.”

Each step proclaimed courage as the brave soul ascended. Anticipation harmonized excitement and dread.

At the stairs’ summit, eerie hush reigned. The air held its breath, poised for an unknown chill.

In stillness, the brave soul entered the upper room, heartbeats matching suspense’s rhythm. The world teetered on an unspoken revelation.

As silence shattered, footsteps rushed down the stairs. The brave soul burst through the door, eyes wide with terror. They fled, echoing primal fear.

The director observed, amusement and empathy in his eyes. He turned to guests, mischief in his gaze.

“Our friend wasn’t ready to greet Frank. It takes courage to face history’s specters.”

Words hung heavy as a breeze rustled curtains. Chills nestled into remaining bones.

“Who among you faces Frank?” The director’s voice held playful mischief, eyes dancing.

Moonlight Nightmares at the Lake's Edge

Moonlight Nightmares at the Lake’s Edge

Written By:  Lance J.  Gosnell

Under the ominous, moonlit sky, five college-aged women embarked on a late-night adventure in a vintage convertible. Laughter echoed through the crisp air as they sped down the desolate road. The full moon cast an eerie glow on the landscape, and the anticipation of the unknown filled the air.

As they approached a forgotten path, curiosity got the best of them. Ignoring caution, they veered off the road and onto a narrow trail that led to a murky, desolate lake bed. The once-thriving lake had dried up, leaving behind an expanse of cracked, uneven earth. The convertible’s tires sunk into the soft mud, causing it to come to an abrupt halt.

Unease settled in as the reality of their situation sunk in. Their laughter turned to nervous murmurs as they assessed the predicament. A cold wind whispered through the barren trees, rustling leaves that seemed to whisper secrets of the past. The moonlight painted long shadows that danced across the desolate landscape, creating an eerie tableau.

Attempts to free the car were in vain, as the mud seemed to clutch onto it like a vengeful spirit refusing to let go. Panic gripped the group as they realized their phones had no signal, leaving them isolated and stranded in the middle of nowhere.

As the hours passed, exhaustion and fear took their toll. The women huddled together for warmth, their breath visible in the chilly air. One by one, they began to doze off, lulled into a fitful sleep by the haunting surroundings.

It was then that the dreams began. Each woman was trapped in a nightmarish realm of their own making. One saw herself sinking into quicksand-like mud, unable to escape. Another was pursued through the darkness by shadowy figures that seemed to emerge from the very trees themselves. Their screams were silent, trapped within the twisted landscapes of their minds.

Morning light eventually broke through the darkness, and the women awoke from their restless slumber. Shaken and disoriented, they stumbled out of the car and onto the now-hardened mud. Their eyes met, each reflecting the terror they had experienced in their dreams.

As they surveyed their surroundings, they discovered an old, weathered sign partially buried in the ground. It bore the faded words: “Beware the Lake’s Curse.” It became clear that their ill-fated decision to venture into the lake bed had awakened a malevolent force, one that fed on their fears and insecurities, weaving them into a tapestry of nightmares.

With a renewed sense of determination, they worked together to free the car from the mud’s grasp. As the convertible’s tires finally regained solid ground, they sped away from the lake bed, leaving the curse behind. But the memory of that night would forever haunt their dreams, a chilling reminder that some places hold secrets best left undisturbed.

Whispers in the Void: A Cobbite Story

Whispers in the Void:  A Cobbite Story

Written by Lance J.  Gosnell

Inspired by the legend of the Cobbites of White County,  Arkansas

Sarah’s hands trembled as she delicately turned the pages of the Arkansas Grimoire, her flashlight casting eerie shadows on the aged parchment. The wind howled through the hollow trees, carrying with it an unsettling whisper that seemed to emanate from the very darkness itself.

The cult of Cobbites had always been whispered about in the hushed tones of locals, a sinister legend from the past. But Sarah, the curious archaeologist, had always been drawn to the forbidden, to the forgotten. She couldn’t resist the pull of the Grimoire’s pages, each word a siren’s call into the depths of the occult.

As she translated the cryptic text, her dreams became twisted and nightmarish. Visions of blood-soaked rituals and grotesque creatures filled her nights, leaving her waking in a cold sweat. Yet, she couldn’t tear herself away from the ancient knowledge she had uncovered.

In the heart of the woods, the Cobbites stirred. Their chanting echoed through the trees, the syllables foreign and guttural. And with each word uttered, an otherworldly force awakened, hungry for chaos and destruction.

Sarah’s obsession grew, the lines between reality and nightmare blurring. She reached out to the locals who had seen the Cobbites before, who had glimpsed the horrors they brought. Together, they formed an unlikely alliance, bound by their shared terror.

Armed with shotguns and a mixture of desperation and determination, they ventured into the heart of the cursed forest. Their steps were heavy, as if the very earth resisted their intrusion. But the Cobbites were relentless, their influence seeping into every shadow, every leaf, every whisper of the wind.

The forest became a nightmarish labyrinth, twisting and shifting as they pressed forward. Grotesque forms slithered through the underbrush, eyes gleaming with malevolence. The group’s sanity unraveled as they faced abominations that defied reason and reality.

And at the heart of it all was Sarah, her mind both a weapon and a battlefield. The Cobbites’ deity lurked on the edges of her consciousness, whispering promises of power and eternal knowledge. The Scepter of Shadows, their only hope, seemed both distant and unreachable.

In the climactic showdown, they confronted the Cobbites’ ancient deity, a maddening fusion of cosmic terror and human desperation. Their weapons were useless, their courage wavered, but Sarah’s connection to the entity was both her curse and her salvation.

As reality splintered and reformed, Sarah grappled with the deity within her mind. She used the Necronomicon’s forbidden verses as weapons, battling the deity’s insidious whispers. And in that battle of wills, the Scepter of Shadows materialized, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

With a scream that echoed through the hollow, Sarah banished the Cobbites’ deity back into the void from which it came. The forest fell silent, the malevolent influence dissipated like smoke. But the scars remained, etched into the minds of those who had stared into the abyss.

Hardin Inn: A Legends of Hainted Ditch Story

The Haunted Hardin Inn

based on the screenplay
Legends of Hainted Ditch © 12/26/2017
by Lance J. Gosnell and Grant J. Mullins

Adapted into a short story on 8/12/23 by Lance J. Gosnell.

Laura drove along the interstate, irritated by the reckless truck drivers around her. Her brother Alex rode shotgun, nose buried in his notebook. “Researching local history again?” Laura asked. “Actually, I’ve been looking into our family’s past. Did you know our ancestor, Jonathan Hardin, owned an inn here in the 1800s? The stories say he might have been involved in some dark events,” replied Alex. Laura felt a shiver down her spine. She hoped that Alex’s research was purely for curiosity’s sake.

They pulled into a truck stop to eat. A man named Moses Hudson approached them. He was a paranormal investigator and shared chilling tales about the Hardin family. He offered to take them to the old Hardin Inn, claiming there were unexplained phenomena there. Laura wanted to dismiss it as nonsense, but Alex’s adventurous spirit led him to accept the offer.

Against her better judgment, Laura joined Alex and Moses at the eerie Hardin Inn, now operating as a bed and breakfast. The owner, Elizabeth, seemed hospitable at first.

That night, Laura witnessed a ghostly figure in the cemetery – a woman with a haunting presence. “We need to leave this place!” she pleaded with Alex. He was determined to gather more evidence, and Moses supported his decision. With reluctance, Laura agreed to stay for one more night.

The following day, they stumbled upon an old ledger that provided evidence of Jonathan Hardin’s involvement in mysterious deaths at the inn. Laura thought they had unraveled the truth, but the paranormal activity intensified that night. A whispering apparition seized her arm, and in her terror, she screamed and was consumed by darkness.

In the basement, Alex discovered Laura’s lifeless body, a bloody gash on her head. He carried her upstairs, consumed by guilt for leading them into this nightmare.

The next morning, Alex was determined to confront the malevolent spirit. A fierce battle ensued between him and the ghost of Jonathan Hardin. As dawn approached, Alex shattered the tombstone, causing the ghost to fade away. Yet, Laura’s essence remained lost.

Weeks later, in a hospital near the truck stop, Laura awoke with her head bandaged. She had suffered amnesia. She insisted on seeing her brother, believing him to be alive despite the doctor’s claims that he had died in a tragic incident at the truck stop. The doctor tried to convince her that her memories were distorted, but Laura couldn’t shake the feeling that something supernatural had occurred.

As she grappled with her sanity, Laura’s mind was haunted by the spectral events at the Hardin Inn. The doctor’s explanations left her even more bewildered, and she found herself questioning reality. The chilling uncertainty of her experience left her deeply unsettled.