GOD HATES HEAVY METAL: MIDNIGHT MASS
Once a month, every adult in town would vanish after dark. The children stayed home—locked in, lights out. Told not to peek, that we should be asleep by then anyway, and if we weren’t, all manner of monsters lurked about at night looking for disobedient children to chase.
GOD HATES HEAVY METAL: SEE EMILY PLAY
This is a warning. If you hear kids calling outside your window after 2AM—don’t go. Don’t answer. And whatever you do, don’t say your name.
There’s something wrong with my street, and it starts after midnight. You’ll hear laughter—children playing. Sometimes tag, sometimes jump rope, sometimes just… calling.
But we all know better. You don’t open the window. You don’t peek through the blinds. You never go outside.
I told Emily this, but she didn’t believe me. She thought it was just some dumb story I made up to scare her.
She doesn’t think that anymore.
Because she’s gone.
GOD HATES HEAVY METAL: THE MAN WHO STANDS ACROSS THE STREET
There’s a man who stands across the street from my house every single night at exactly 2:17 AM. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move. He just stands there. Watching.