Maximillian Kennedy
Stories (3)
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Cracking
I think it goes without saying that I was not pleased when I heard our branch was being downsized. As it turns out despite my doubts, I was a “transfer to the Manchester branch person” and not a “severance package person”. I figured it would be a difficult transition, but I had no idea. Money was tight so it wasn’t as though I could just immediately get an apartment in Manchester, I thought it best sleep to in a hotel for a week or two. After some searching, I landed on the Jackson Hotel, a quaint little place. It was cheap but appeared neatly kept on their website, also it was no more than five minutes’ drive from my new workplace. At first it all seemed a bit too good to be true.
By Maximillian Kennedy6 years ago in Horror
The Lights In The Swamp
England 1876 Day 1 North of Suffolk the trees grow tall and densely, reaching up to the empty sky. Their leafless branches calling out to the black abyss, they contort and twist fascinatingly, almost unnaturally so. The flat marshes and wetlands sprawling across the sour land like a virus, the thick, murky water seeping into every cold crack. A dangerous place for the imagination would be alone in that ancient forest. A place so solitary and austere, only the most depraved and desperate would seek to find solace in its rotted wood.
By Maximillian Kennedy6 years ago in Horror
The man in red
He came to our town, wrapped in red cloth and smelling of lavender. Atop a black horse he rode in, met with suspicious glares and cold shoulders. The man in red entered that, now, empty town which once prospered in the valley, below a steep cliff face, towering over our small homestead. I can see it now with my waking eyes, the man in red and the nightmare he hosted atop the mountain.
By Maximillian Kennedy6 years ago in Horror
