“Down the infinite aeons come beating the wings of unmerciful gloom”—H.P. Lovecraft

Follow me children of horror as we cross the ghoul guarded gateways, the labyrinth of the lost, ancient cyclopean stairs of moss, and the decrepit crypt into that cherished abyss that is moonlight, swamp, and darkest night. Journey with us through midnight worlds with no torch, no candle, and no flashlight with just the occasional arc of lightning.

Forever are we outsiders to their world and the coil that is man. And, for that, relish in the strange, the grotesque, and the un-nerving tales of their tragic encounters with supernatural terror.-JL