DARK TALE CO.
Bio
I’ve been writing strange, twisty stories since I could hold a pen—it’s how I make sense of the world. DarkTale Co. is where I finally share them with you. A few travel pieces remain from my past. If you love mystery in shadows, welcome.
Stories (29)
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The Hollow-Eyed Boy. AI-Generated.
They say the dead don’t walk in Marrow Creek—but no one explains the muddy footprints that appear each morning outside the chapel or the boy with hollow eyes who stares through people like glass. Folks stopped asking after the autumn of ’47, the year Josiah Vex came down from the mountain.
By DARK TALE CO. 20 days ago in Horror
The Murder No One Saw
Mere-Evelyn Tavakaturaga-Sinclair realised she’d just watched a man die halfway through her second piña colada. One moment, she was floating in the infinity pool, the warm Bali evening wrapped around her like a damp shawl. The next, she was staring, transfixed, at the villa across the ravine.
By DARK TALE CO. 28 days ago in Fiction
The Final Entry: Arthur St. Clair’s Sacrifice
Arthur St Clair had always believed in maps. As a former Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society and, secretly, a senior cartographer, he had spent his life charting the world’s anomalies, ensuring the line between fact and folklore remained taut and unbroken. But the map he stared at now was failing him. It was a fragment of parchment tucked into his pocket, showing a single, faint, circular clearing near Oxford labelled only: The Rabbit Hole.
By DARK TALE CO. 29 days ago in Fiction
The Fissure in the Frost: Beneath the Snowline. AI-Generated.
They had not escaped Brumewood at all. They were sleeping inside its family photo. Mara stared at the frame on the wall until the edges of the picture blurred. Clara, Michael, little Jonas. The same woman she had seen on the train, unchanged by ten years. The same child who’d sat on that empty lap. The same knitted hat. The same winter-blue eyes.
By DARK TALE CO. about a month ago in Fiction
The Fissure in the Frost: A Town That Pretends Not to See
They both knew, with chilling certainty, that going back home now was definitely not an option. London meant distance, yes. But it also meant walking away. From the pouch. From the child-shaped shadow in the trees. From the hands that had buckled Emilia’s knees at the edge of the platform.
By DARK TALE CO. about a month ago in Fiction
The Fissure in the Frost: A Psychological Winter Mystery
Mara told herself this was a break. The cabin was perfect—a sleek, modern box of cedar and glass tucked into the quiet mouth of a snow-dense forest. It was Emilia’s idea, of course. Emilia, hyperactive and relentlessly optimistic, believed a few lungfuls of fresh mountain air, far from the city’s grime and the memory of the difficult case Mara had just closed, would act as a psychic disinfectant.
By DARK TALE CO. about a month ago in Fiction
The Package on the Landing: The Case That Followed Me Home
It wasn’t just the way he looked at her. It was the way his entire body shifted — a slow, restless sway, weight rolling from one leg to the other as if he was trying to stay inside his own skin and failing. His eyes cut straight through the crowded room, zeroed in on her with a focus so absolute it felt intrusive… predatory.
By DARK TALE CO. about a month ago in Criminal
Amalfi Coast in September vs June: Which is Better?
I didn’t plan this trip. I woke up in Positano at Hotel Villa Franca—the hilltop white cube above town that seems to float between lemon groves and sky—still surprised at myself for booking it on a whim. The first decision of the day was not “what to see,” but when to come back: was June better for the Amalfi Coast, or September? Everyone has an opinion, and most of them are loud. I wanted a local one.
By DARK TALE CO. 4 months ago in Wander
Seville Hidden Gems: A Day in Barrio Alfalfa & Plaza del Cabildo
I dropped my bag and walked straight into Barrio Alfalfa, letting the afternoon light pull me down narrow lanes. A Sevillana at a café table overheard me ask for “somewhere locals hide at noon” and smiled: “Start at Plaza del Cabildo. Don’t blink—you’ll miss the entrances.”
By DARK TALE CO. 4 months ago in Wander
That Night in Alassio’s Hidden Alley
The Midnight Stroll That Changed Everything I never planned on discovering Alassio this way. That night, I thought I was simply taking a midnight stroll after a long day on Italy’s Riviera. The shops were shuttered, the air smelt faintly of salt, and the cobblestones of the Budello di Alassio—the town’s mediaeval pedestrian alley—glimmered under the streetlamps. I expected silence, maybe the sound of the sea in the distance. Instead, I stumbled into a celebration that changed how I saw this underrated corner of Liguria.
By DARK TALE CO. 4 months ago in Wander
