One spring in Taiwan, back in ’59,A man named Wu biked through sunshine.A civil engineer, strong and spry,But this day his speed was do-or-die. His wife had fallen dreadfully ill,He raced the road, heart iron-willed.Yet strangely heavy his cycle became,As though unseen weight had joined his frame. Neighbors he passed with polite little waves,But scowls […]

Early dawn on a winter day,Sixteenth of Feb, the year 2020 in play,A woman named Fei, coat crimson bright,Stepped from a store with snacks in sight. Her life was simple, her habits the same,Each morning repeated, a predictable game.Buy some treats, then home she’d go,Or visit her kin she cherished so. But on this day,

In Kuala Lumpur’s quiet night,July second, the moon shone bright,Maslin Idris paced the floor,A meeting planned, behind closed door. A politician, proud yet tense,His power fading, influence dense,He dreamed to rule, the highest seat,But feared his reign might face defeat. Then came a knock—he smoothed his tie,A stunning woman caught his eye.Long dark hair, a

In Tel Aviv, on a winter’s day,The rain and hail came fierce to stay.January fourth, just past half one,The sky was dark, no sign of sun. Stav Harrari, just twenty-five,With Dean, her love, so full of life,Peered through glass where the storm did pound,And hail like bullets struck all around. They thought of their car

One crisp October morning in two-thousand fifteen,A receptionist typed on her computer screen.At a sports medicine center in Birmingham town,She checked Dr. Andrews’ schedule up and down. Dr. James Andrews, a surgeon so famed,With athletes and stars his skills were acclaimed.His days were all booked, surgeries galore,But today, no conflicts—just the usual chore. She moved

In April’s chill of ’48,On Arctic land in frozen state,A band of hunters, Inuit kin,Set forth where icy coasts begin. With spears in hand, through snow they tread,To hunt where seals and walrus fed.But in their path, an icy hillBlocked all the view—it stood so still. The youngest one, with heart so bold,Ran up the

In Uganda’s land on a moonless night,In March, beneath the pale starlight,An old man crouched with breath held tight—John Manene, eyes sharp with fright. He wasn’t alone in that village deep,Where shadows crawled and none could sleep.For fourteen years, they’d lived in dread,Eighty-three souls were found long dead. Children vanished without a trace,The butchered lost

In Memphis town, ‘neath skies of gray,A mystery stirred one fateful day.The year was nineteen eighty-two,And whispers crept where silence grew. Inside a church, so vast and wide,Where halls and chapels lived inside,Worked Headmaster Sam, a thoughtful man,With desk and bowl, and admin plan. But one late morn, in February’s chill,His bowl was empty—nuts gone

In Yorkshire’s lands on autumn’s breath,A tale unfolds of fear and death.September tenth, the year ‘eighty-seven,Brought whispers dark from earthly heaven. PC Ellis, calm and wise,Met two guards with haunted eyes.Steven Brooks and David too,Were strong of build but pale of hue. They told a tale so strange, so stark,Of ghostly chills out in the

In Flint, Michigan, late in May,Three friends crept in, just past the day.An old brick home once held the dead,Now shuttered tight—so rumors said. A funeral home, long left behind,With horror tales that gripped the mind.No entry sign, yet in they crept,While curious hearts in silence leapt. The door, though locked, gave way with ease,Like