Lady Riddle's Report

Good evening, my faithful truthseekers. I have another story for you this evening from Crayonless. Death is something that needs no introduction I feel. It is always creeping at the edge of our minds, close but out of sight. “I’m fine” I breathed down the phone for the third time that evening “You don’t need to come over. It was just a weird tremor. No. Yes.”   My mother had always been overprotective, but now that I’d been diagnosed with a heart condition she had the excuse she’d always hoped for to call me every night.   “No, mum. I’m fine. Please go to bed”   I rolled my eyes as she reminded me to take the necessary medicines that would allow me to stay topside. “Yes, I will. Bye mum.” The phone clicked.   I sighed, and then stretched as I wandered through my modest London apartment. Mum wanted me to come home to live with her, but I couldn’t give up this place. The rent was a steal; I supposed it was owned by some pensioner who hadn’t realised rent pri...

Have you ever wondered, my truthseekers, who it is when you answer the phone and there is no noise on the other end? When the phone rings in the middle of the night and you don't answer it? Maybe we'll find out with this tale from Spooky Bosnian. I am the one that calls you late at night from some foreign country, just to say nothing. I am the one that you don’t feel scared about at first, but after countless calls I start to get into your skin. You start to picture me everywhere. You want it so badly to be a joke, but it never is.   I am the Caller, and this is my story.   When I was just a small boy my country was plagued by war and death. In the midst of all that madness and terror, I had one object that served me as a beacon of hope. It was an old style telephone, painted in black and working as a Swiss clock. Now, that was weird. The phone worked all the time, only my phone, all the other had no connection which is understandable since there was a war going on. ...

Well met, my fellow truthseekers. Tonight we're talking about something that is so common place that most wouldn't think twice about a book, a journal. It's only a bound collection of paper meant to keep secrets and thoughts away from the eyes of the world. But what if something much deeper lies within the pages? This is the subject of tonight's tale from Adam Landis 7. We just moved into our first house, but this is what my daughter found behind the furnace.   RACHEL’S JOURNAL October 1, 2014 I’m going to try to write in this notebook every day. My mom says these are the best days of my life and I’m going to want to remember them. Plus I want to work on my writing and maybe be a writer   Amanda is rich and I’m not, but we’re best friends anyway. Besides, I’m only thirteen. I can be rich when I’m older, like twenty. I don’t know her dad, he’s always on trips or at work, but her mom has perfect French nails and gets dressed up even just to sit around the house. It...

Greetings to you truthseekers. On this evening we are graced with a tale from The Curious Dead Cat. “Shit!” I exclaimed, kicking the tire of my car, which at that moment was stuck in a snow drift. My string of bad luck seemed continue with this latest development. I was stranded in the middle of nowhere with no car, and no end in sight to the blizzard that raged around me. I huddled deeper into my coat as I made my way up the deserted road. As far as I could tell there were no houses within sight. I figured they were there somewhere tucked amongst the surrounding forest. By walking I hoped that I’d be able to find some sort of life – whether it be a building or a car.   My hands and face had gone numb by the time I found salvation. The sign reading “Nox Bed and Breakfast” was nearly hidden by undergrowth and snow, but by some luck (good this time), I saw it. As I trudged up the long driveway, I wondered how anyone could make a profit by having a bed and breakfast in the mid...

Well met, truthseekers. I hope that the evening finds you well. Tonight's tale comes to us from Biomorbosis Has it ever happened to you that you wake up and it takes you a while to figure out where you are? I'm very familiar with that feeling. Growing up under the wing of a single mother, I am really used to sleep in many different places, like my dad's place during the weekends, his parents' house now and then, my other grandparents' place during the week, and such.   Did I mention my mom is single? That also includes a big lot of houses I've lived in. She was (and still is) a very ambitious woman -in that way a poor young mother can be- so she always sought for the better present and future, for herself and for me. Always working in the day, studying in the night, getting certificates, qualifications and degrees, taking different jobs, moving into better (or cheaper) houses and apartments, taking me away from one school to another, and keeping me alive wi...

Another evening well met, my fellow truthseekers. Tobias Wade has a tale of love that I think you will find quite enlightening. I didn't believe that stars were real when I was a little girl growing up in New York. My parents told me they were drowned out by the city lights, but that didn't seem possible. It just didn't make sense how something that big could be completely invisible. What was the big deal anyway, if they were duller than ordinary light-bulbs?   I was seven years old before I took a trip to the country and saw the endless heavens for the first time. One by one, little beads of light began sneaking through the dusk.   "Those are planes," I declared righteously. My parents only smiled. The stars kept coming - hundreds, thousands, webs and clusters, miraculously bursting out of nowhere as though they were being created just for me. I remember laughing out loud and flinging myself into the air, rushing to climb the tallest tree just to stretch a...

I trust that this evening finds you well, truthseekers. Tonight we have a tale that may make your skin crawl. This story has been sent in by Roozea. Let me preface this by saying I have a  severe  case of arachnophobia. Seriously, even those tiny ones scare the shit out if me. If I spot a spider in a room, any room, you can bet your arse I'll be the first to leave it. So it's God's greatest joke that this should be happening to me, the guy who regularly dissolves into tears over a fucking Daddy Long Legs in the sink.   Just a few days back, I ran into a friend of mine on my way to the corner shop, so naturally I was forced to stop and make small talk. When I glanced down at my feet whilst wracking my brain for an excuse to leave, I saw these long hairy legs sticking out from under my Reebok, twitching meekly. Now when I say those legs were long, I don't mean "hey that spiders got pretty long legs" long, I mean "HOLY FUCKING SHIT LOOK HOW LONG THAT SP...

Good evening, truthseekers. Tonight I bring you a new tale of the strange and unexplained about something that many of you may use on a daily basis. Perhaps it's not as safe as we've come to believe? This has be related to me by one who calls themselves The General G. While I admit I have never liked Pinterest, I was never afraid of it. At least until recently. We all know at least one person who worships Pinterest. It is usually your aunt, coworker, or obnoxiously productive friend. Either way, the story is always the same. You see them constantly on Facebook posting recipes for stuff you didn't want in the first place, but the second you see it, you crave it all day long. The last thing you need after your afternoon coffee fix is someone blowing up your feed with recipes for sriracha flavored everything or the millionth way to make guacamole. To add insult to injury, they are never easy recipes. They might as well tell you to go out and grow your own wheat, it'...