Cozy Horror Picks for October

October 8, 2024October 7, 2024 J.Leave a comment

I like cozy horror. No jump scares, just a deeply unsettling vibe. The more it blurs the lines between fiction and reality, the better. I like my horror weird, too. Surreal. Like taking a nice walk down a country lane on a soft drizzly morning and encountering something gray and viscous moving toward you that may once have been a deer.
That kind of thing.

These are my favorite pieces of cozy horror, perfect for an October afternoon:

1. I am in Eskew

I am in Eskew is a surreal horror audiodrama that follows the life of a man living (or trying to) in an ever-shifting city that seems bent on tormenting him. Every episode is essentially an audio diary, narrated by one (and eventually two) voices with the sound of rain in the background. It’s very weird.
It’s very unsettling.
It’s also weirdly soothing.

This series is also complete, so you don’t have to worry about waiting for new episodes to drop.

2. The Codex Seraphinianus

The Codex Seraphinianus is an illustrated guide to an imaginary world, complete with indecipherable writing. Why is the writing indecipherable? Because it’s meant to be — it’s asemic, and intended to convey the wonder and mystery of a child “reading” a book they don’t yet understand. While this book isn’t exactly horror, I’ve included it here because it does create a delightfully unsettling atmosphere — like a discarded relic from a complete, complex, fully fleshed-out world that you don’t understand, never knew existed, and operates entirely differently from your own.

3. Modes of Thought in Anterran Literature

This is another audiodrama, and it’s just delightful. It’s delivered as a series of lectures (and some assorted other recordings here and there) given by a professor who was once a big name in classical studies, but seems to have gone off the deep end. Upon getting tenure and the permission to teach one class of his choosing, he created “Modes of Thought in Anterran Literature” — a class dedicated to analyzing the literature of a long-dead society.

Anterra is also the world’s oldest civilization, tens of thousands of years older than any other recorded society. It was completely unknown until a Chinese submarine sank in the Pacific, coming to rest nearly on top of an Anterran city.

The character of the unnamed professor is engaging, but also soothing enough to make this a decent podcast to sleep to. There are virtually no jumpscares here — just the creeping dread of uncovering the secrets of a dead civilization, including what caused them to mysteriously collapse.

4. The Magnus Archives

The Magnus Archives is an episodic horror anthology, though all of the stories are connected by common threads. The Magnus Institute is an organization dedicated to studying the bizarre. Jonathan Sims, the Institute’s new head archivist, sits down to convert hundreds of written records to audio and, when necessary, add follow-up notes based on research by his team.

Individually, the stories are spooky enough. Once you get deep enough in, a bigger, much more frightening picture starts to emerge.

5. Welcome to Night Vale

Night Vale is a sleepy desert town with some… interesting characteristics. Welcome to Night Vale is an audiodrama in the form of a nightly news show. Hosted by the very soothing-voiced Cecil, it blends the surreal and the macabre with the everyday.

I first got into Night Vale when I was living in California, shortly after being diagnosed with intracranial hypertension. I was severely disabled at the time, unable to leave the house (or bed, most days). Night Vale kept me company, kept me entertained, and provided the perfect blend of humor, horror, and relaxation that I needed.

6. Junji Ito’s Cat Diary: Yon & Mu

Yon and Mu are two cats owned by renowned horror manga artist Junji Ito and his wife. The cat diary details Ito’s life as he adjusts to living with two cats — but, because it’s him, the illustrations are hilariously unsettling. He uses exaggerated horror to illustrate some of the most mundane aspects of living with a cat, and the end result is often more funny and heartwarming than frightening.

7. Weeping Cedars

Weeping Cedars is an audiodrama in the form of a documentary on the small upstate New York town of Weeping Cedars. It’s the site of more than its share of group violence and hysteria, but that’s not the strangest part. The town also seems to just sort of “forget” all of these tragedies, so nobody notices that things have developed a strangely cyclical — possibly even predictable — pattern.

The documentarians try to uncover the lost secrets behind these events, but is it too late? Can they do more than just sit and watch as things continue to unravel?

8. The Last Movie

The Last Movie is an audiodrama set in the same universe as Tanis (one I probably would also recommend, but sadly not beyond the first season or so). Nic Silver and MK investigate the existence of an underground — and possibly cursed — movie.

It’s short, self-contained, and very good if (like me) you’re a fan of cursed media.

9. The Dark Pool

The Dark Pool is another audiodrama, this time set in Maryland. A college professor and a group of students engage in a series of meditation exercises, and record their follow-up conversations. However, as the series goes on, it becomes terrifyingly apparent that there’s a lot more going on than just learning to quiet the mind. As the experiment continues, they begin experiencing bizarre phenomena. Will they be able to break free, or have they already gotten the attention of something they can’t escape?

Here’s hoping your autumn is equal parts cozy and strange!

How is everyone so good and cool?

June 18, 2024June 17, 2024 J.Leave a comment

This past weekend was the yearly Goods and Gear Swap. The Druidry group that I’m part of does one every June — we get together, bring songs, poems, stories, and food to share, and find new homes for things. Every year, I come back with plants, books, you name it.

It’s also a lovely way to connect with people in a not-strictly-ritual setting. Sure, this gathering has some ritual elements since it’s Midsummer, like the opening of the bardic circle, but it’s mostly a way to catch up and eat excellent food.

I admit, lately I’ve been having an antisocial streak. Maybe it’s from doomscrolling, maybe it’s the beginnings of an ennui, I don’t know. I just know that I’ve been feeling more and more at home when I eat breakfast with the crows in the yard, and more and more on edge around other human beings. This year’s Goods and Gear Swap did a lot to help pull me out of it.

It made me realize just how fortunate I am to know such talented, smart, funny, genuinely cool people. Every conversation I had was interesting and validating, from stuff about gardening, to stuff about spiritual practices. People sang. Read poems (either ones by other authors, or ones they wrote themselves). Told stories. Played instruments. We shared food. We swapped books, plants we’d grown, things we’d made. It was an excellent antidote to the doomscrolling and general people fatigue I’d been feeling.

I came away with several fascinating books, two dragonfruit plants, some camping supplies, and a ukulele. Though it was only one afternoon, I feel recharged, in a way — inspired, energized, full of ideas for my art and my garden.

Here’s hoping this season is treating you well, too.

life

Ghost Hunting in Cape May

June 4, 2024June 3, 2024 J.Leave a comment

Hello (and a relaxed and happy Pride Month to all of my fellow LGBT+ people)!

I am freshly returned from a brief trip to Cape May, NJ. My Handsome Assistant and I wanted to take some time to be near a beach for a bit, and managed to time things so we would a) have nice weather, but also b) be there during the “off season” when accommodations are generally a lot cheaper and easier to get. Fortunately for us, the stars aligned and we got a very nice room in the Angel of the Sea bed and breakfast.

(And when they say “and breakfast,” they mean it. You want breakfast? There’s fresh fruit, fancy breads, and three different entrées to pick from. Feeling snacky? There’s tea and pastries in the afternoon. Want to relax in the evening? There is wine and mountains of charcuterie. Even after you check out, you’re invited to return later that day to enjoy the amenities.)

A view of a pink Victorian house at night. It has "gingerbread" details and a scalloped roof and is lit with strings of cafe lights.

The Angel of the Sea even comes with its own ghosts. It’s a very old building that was actually kind of… cut in half and transported to its current location. As a result, parts of it aren’t very accessible — think the narrow hallways and steep staircases you get with historic buildings — but are super haunted. As many as four ghosts have been reported to make an appearance there. There’re electrical shenanigans, shaking beds, and mysterious phantom coughs.

A photo of a picture on a wall. It's a very old, oval photograph of a sad-looking woman, in an ornate gilt frame. — Our room even had a complimentary Grandma.

I brought my ghost box, figuring it’d be interesting to mess around with during our downtime. I wasn’t able to get much on the scanner, but we also didn’t experience anything out-of-the-ordinary in our particular room, either.

We did meet a gentleman named Gary who was there with his wife. Gary was a lot of fun — always enthusiastic and down for a conversation, where he’d flit from subject to subject like a hummingbird. We talked about all kinds of things every time we ran into each other: history, haunted places, music, life, death, rehab, and more. He told us a story about someone close to him passing away. Even though this person appeared to have flatlined, they turned their head, looked into the empty doorway of their hospital room, and asked, “Which way do I go?” before they passed.

Even if you don’t find a ghost in your hotel room, places like this are generally home to absolute treasure troves of fun and interesting paranormal stuff. You’ve just got to know where to look.
(Antique stores. The answer is antique stores.)

I have made the weird and occasionally embarrassing habit of going into antique stores, finding someone who works there, and straight-up asking them, “If you had to guess, what object here would you say is the most likely to be haunted and/or carry some kind of terrible curse?”

Idk. A sheep maybe? It has bright pink eyes and its mouth gapes open in a silent scream.

A small portrait mug of a sinister looking man in a top hat.

A ceramic statue of a deranged looking clown riding on a displeased pig.

Several antique and vintage dolls, including Raggedy Anns and Andys.

A plastic perfume bottle top of a woman, possibly a bride. The plastic is yellow with age, giving her a blank-eyed stare.

(If I had to guess, it would be any one of these things. Did you know the original Annabelle doll was a Raggedy Ann? Fun!)

As it turns out, antique stores are usually not super busy and are full of dead people’s stuff. I have yet to meet an antique store employee who has not jumped right in to talking about the weird stuff that goes on there at night. Some are more skeptical, but most of them will eagerly tell you about all of the things they’ve seen or heard.

For example, Antiques Emporia is home to the ghost of a little girl. She rearranges things at night and opens the packaging of vintage toys.

Capt. Scraps in Ocean City has even been the subject of a professional paranormal investigation. Multiple customers, on several separate occasions, have reported the sense that there was something there. Eventually, an associate of one of the owners brought in a full team with EMF readers, scanners, and the works. While investigating, they were able to decipher the words “Henry. Fire. Dog.” It was later discovered that a local antiques dealer named Henry had lost his shop, his dog, and his life in a terrible fire. Some of his paintings ended up at Capt. Scraps, and Henry decided to come along with them!

A painting of a black-eyed woman in a large hat. The background is indistinct and abstract, and the colors are very bright. There's a large red flower in the foreground. — I don’t know if this was one of his paintings, specifically, but something about it really struck me and I had to get a picture of it.

This store also has its share of shadow people, odd phenomena on security cameras, and the general “sense” of a ghostly presence. It’s a really neat shop.

So, while I wasn’t able to get any recordings or paranormal experiences of my own, I did come away with lots of stories.

We also found a lot of shops that were right up our alley. Good Scents has a ton of local art and jewelry, candles, soaps, and incense. (We picked up some soaps, massage oil, and a box of “smokeless” Hinoki cypress Japanese incense.) Best of all, it’s quality stuff — not the kind of smells that immediately make my throat puffy and make me feel like someone is driving nails into my face.

They also had one of those boards that you can draw on with water. Usually, you use them to write little notes or affirmations. Because I am a giant obnoxious child, I used it to draw a rushed, ersatz Dickbutt. (Don’t worry, I didn’t leave him there for impressionable childs to see. I drew over it.)

Guardian's storefront. There is a chain of copper bells and a wooden image of an angel on the front door.

Guardian is another delightful place to stop if you enjoy metaphysical shops. It’s small, but well-stocked. It has some tarot and oracle decks I hadn’t seen anywhere else, and a very nice selection of books. (I picked up one that I can’t wait to review here.) When we checked out, the proprietor had us choose cards from an oracle deck — we read the affirmations and she had us keep the cards as a little bit of positivity.

We also went on a bit of a hunt for vegan cupcakes. We’d managed to find plenty of meat-, egg-, and dairy-free meal options for me, and tons of fresh seafood for my Handsome Assistant at places like The Mad Batter (like their seitan hot wings and vegan tostadas) and Good Earth (which had an amazing cauliflower steak with chimichurri), so finding vegan restaurants in Cape May wasn’t a problem at all.

The outside packaging of Fruition's Gay Bar. It's primarily purple and depicts several anthropomorphic animals: a bear in drag, a deer bartender in a rainbow scarf, and a small beaver dressed as Rosie the Riveter.

My Handsome Assistant also brought me some fancy chocolates, like the Gay Bar. It’s pretty much an Old Fashioned cocktail in chocolate bar form, and it was delightful. I’ve had boozy chocolate before, but mostly just those little chocolate bottles filled with rum. Nothing really cocktail-inspired and uniquely flavorful like this.

We did eventually find Chocolate Face, a bakery that had vegan cupcakes. The chocolate ones were even oat- and nut-free, so they ticked all of my “weird dietary issues” boxes. This was about twenty minutes from where we were staying, so we decided to poke around at a couple of neat looking shops we’d seen on the map.

And buddy, we were not prepared.

Just look at this idyllic-ass nonsense.

A photo of tiny cottages surrounded by brick paths and immaculate gardens. Lanterns hang from a large tree in the foreground, and the buildings are surrounded by flowers. — Don’t mind Longcat. He is protecting a stranger’s identity.

I thought it was going to be a couple of strip-mall type shops clustered around a parking lot. I was so wonderfully wrong. It was Woodland Village.

It was like… I don’t know. Little fairy cottages. Pricey goods, but not of the cheap, souvenir variety. All of this stuff was high-end. Handmade art and sculpture. Handmade clothing with vegetable-dyed fabrics. Handmade gemstone jewelry. Fine gemstone specimens. Handmade incense. Upscale men’s clothing. Teas. Perfumes. Spices.

Another view of Woodland Village, showing a gazebo, brick pathways lined with flowers and trees, an old-fashioned wheelbarrow full of plants, a set of wooden Adirondak chairs, and a shop in the background.

In Red Door Gallery, I wanted to show my Handsome Assistant a pour-over coffee funnel in a beautiful, glazed ceramic. While I reached for it, I clumsily knocked over a small sculpture of a sheep. We thought he was okay, but, sadly, one of his ears was knocked off in the fall.

Obviously, I was going to bring him home and fix him.

Once we’d finished shopping, we brought our purchases (mostly handmade cat toys for the dummy squad back home). I set the small, broken figure on the counter.

“He was a casualty of the fall, but it’s okay. I can repair him. I have the technology.”

“You… really don’t have to do that,” the proprietor said.

As it turns out, she was the artist who made the little figures. She didn’t want us to buy him just because he was broken, and insisted we pick out a whole one instead. I thought they were cute anyhow, so I did — even though I felt bad about the little sheep with his broken ear.

“Can you fix the broken one?” My Handsome Assistant asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she explained. She said she’d likely end up throwing him away.

My Handsome Assistant came over and whispered to me.

“Okay, would you really rather have the broken one, or the other one?”

“I mean… They’re both very cute, but I am going to feel terrible if the broken one ends up in the trash.”

A pair of small, polymer clay sheep in front of a blue glass bottle and a needlefelted Amanita muscaria.

Sure enough, he went back to the cash register and asked if, since the broken one was likely to be tossed anyhow, we could have it.

So, a bit of glue and patience later, I now have two small clay sheep in my kitchen, and a partner who is very understanding of all of my strange bullshit.

We also stopped in Summer Studio Avalon, which I probably could’ve spent all day in. It was just filled with gorgeous, handmade things. (I got a rutilated quartz, moonstone, and pyrite bracelet, some incense, and a pair of flowy teal pants that I am probably going to live in from now on.) There was beautiful embroidery, handmade incense, artwork, accessories, sculptures, crystals, all kinds of the exact sort of things I could happily spend an inordinate of time looking at and/or smelling. The proprietor was also very nice — we got caught up in a conversation about writing things, painting, and the fact that rainbow moonstone isn’t actually a moonstone and is more like a white labradorite.

A photo of a store display. There are perfumes, flower crowns, pressed flowers, books, and clothing.

We also stopped in Northeast Man, mostly for my Handsome Assistant. I found some really nice shirts and a solid cologne (Duke Cannon’s Bourbon, which he bought and I have been sneaking from him because it smells excellent and is the exact way I want to smell forever), but everything fit me in a less “mysteriously androgynous” way and more in a “fourth grader wearing their dad’s shirt” way. Most of the things there weren’t quite my Handsome Assistant’s aesthetic — more “Boat Dad” than “Office Druid” — but there were some really nice, high-quality pieces that suited him very well.

Since the Angel of the Sea is about a half a block from the ocean, we spent some time doing sunset beach walks. The weather was gorgeous, and the slanting golden light made the crests of the waves seem to glow. We also came upon a very large (and extremely deceased) horseshoe crab, which my Handsome Assistant had never encountered before. (He’s from a landlocked state, so his experience with wild marine life is somewhat limited.)

We also kept an eye out for trash, like we always do. There really wasn’t much — I think we picked up two cellophane wrappers and a water bottle, all told. It was very clean, especially compared to some beaches and hiking trails we’ve been on.

The intact shell of a large horseshoe crab on the sand.

Fortunately for my Handsome Assistant, we did stop at the Nature Center of Cape May. We watched gulls and ospreys overhead, listened to the songbirds on the balcony, and admired the large, live horseshoe crabs in the marine lab.

Am I disappointed that we didn’t find any ghosts ourselves? Not really. It would’ve been interesting, but I’m fully satisfied with the experience that we had. Even during the tail end of its “off” season, Cape May was a lot of fun. Woodland Village was great, the abundance of antique stores (and antique store ghost stories) was awesome, the food was fantastic, and the beach was beautiful.

A person sitting at a white wicker table on a balcony. They're wearing sunglasses and a blue grey tanktop with a wing motif. They're smiling. In the background, the sea is visible.

An image of a person with a green bandana and black tanktop. They're smiling. In the background, there's a tall, Victorian spire lit with cafe lights.

Just for fun · life

“Get in, loser. We’re going shopping… For DEATH.”

November 15, 2022November 14, 2022 J.Leave a comment

The Dadlands.

A barren, scorched landscape populated solely by… dads. There are different tribes of dads, from the grill dads and their seared meats to the travel dads and their ability to leave early and make good time.

Sunday night, we heard their story.

The Dadlands is a one-page tabletop RPG, something like Dungeons & Dragons. Unlike Dungeons & Dragons, you don’t really have to have a character sheet, dice, or desire to be a part time volunteer accountant. No. Instead, you make your own dad and strap on a fanny pack with red and green tokens. Red ones represent chaos, like the chaos of setting off illegal fireworks or jury-rigging something with electrical tape. Green ones are order, like going the speed limit or setting an early bedtime.

Every action is decided by pulling a token at random, without looking. If you pull the correct corresponding token(s), the action is success-

Honestly, you can probably just read the rules right here.

Anyhow, we went to go see The Dadlands live one-off at the DAR Constitution Hall in DC. (It’s a lovely venue but get a ride there — trying to park would be a nightmare.) Brennan Lee Mulligan was the DM, while the McElroy brothers and dad were the Dads. I won’t give away the story here, but I will say that they introduced a mechanic that required the players to play cornhole, and it was the most suspense I think I’ve ever felt in my life.

(There was also a rousing chant of “CORNHOLE FOR YOUR SOUL” at one point.)

It got me thinking, too. I have access to a yard now. I have power tools. I could make a cornhole board.

I could print the Dadlands rules.

I could rustle up a handful of fanny packs and some tokens.

… I’m going to have a Dadlands party.

Cosplay would be optional, of course, but recommended.
It’s also pretty easy to Get the Look:

A pair of white New Balance sneakers, white athletic socks, a pink floral Hawaiian button-down shirt, a white tank top, a pair of khaki shorts, and a black fanny pack.

Refreshments would be barbecue and a variety of canned beverages. Crispy Stellas, Buds, Coke Classic, Liquid Death, the works.

Now I just need to figure out who in my social circle has a secret Dadliness in their heart. Gender doesn’t matter — it isn’t the Dad on the outside, it’s the Dad on the inside that counts. As Rory Powers once said,

You don’t need kids

To be a Dad

You don’t have to have a penis,

Or even be a man,

You just need Levi jeans

And to be a little drunk, yeah!

It’s a Dad Squad, it’s a Dad Squad!”
This Paranormal Life, episode #271: The Legend of Momo – The Monster that Terrorised Missouri

I’m gonna find a Dad Squad and make them play cornhole to survive a post-apocalyptic hellscape, and it’s going to be amazing.

life

One more day above the roses.

June 14, 2022June 13, 2022 J.1 Comment

I had a psychiatry appointment on Sunday. This happens once every six to nine months or so, and would totally unremarkable were it not for the fact that I had it it in the vestibule of The Birchmere. I’d screwed up my scheduling, and didn’t realize it before it was too late to reschedule or cancel my doctor’s appointment. Fortunately, it was telehealth, so the entire thing pretty much went like, “Hi! I’msosorryIhaveaschedulingconflictIdidn’tmeantoeverything’sgoodandalsoIincreasedmydosageofsertraline!” Fortunately, my psychiatrist saw the physical evidence of my being out of the house as an additional sign that my panic disorder was still under control, and the call didn’t need to take long.

A mural of a guitar and the words "The Birchmere."

And so, luckily, I was done with the appointment and able to dash back into my seat before Gaelic Storm took the stage.

I knew they’d be fun to see, but I had no idea just how fun. The songs, the banter between them, even the images on the screen behind the stage (especially the donkey race) — it all came together in an atmosphere of warmth, laughter, clapping, and glass-raising.

This was also the exit of their extremely talented fiddle player, Katie Grennan, and the introduction of the also very talented Natalia (or Natalya, I haven’t been able to find her full name). The band switched fiddle players in mid song, then the fiddle player switched fiddles, as smoothly as you please.

Honestly, as much as I love Gaelic Storm’s recorded songs, I was blown away listening to them live. Pretty much every band member is a multi-instrumentalist (their percussionist, Ryan Lacey, was incredible). Their whole set was energetic, and every song was filled with complex melodies that interwove even as the musicians traded one instrument for another.

(And no, they did not play the one about Russel Crowe.)

If you ever have the chance to see Gaelic Storm, take it, even if you’re not familiar with their work. It’ll be a good time.

art · Just for fun · life

Curséd/haunted objects I saw this weekend, ranked.

May 31, 2022May 30, 2022 J.Leave a comment

My partner and I go antiquing pretty frequently. This isn’t necessarily out of any real desire to collect antiques, so much as it is the desire to support the local economy and also own furniture that isn’t particleboard. Some antique shops are very curated and fancy, while others are more… eclectic, shall we say.

Anyhow, if you’ve ever spent enough time in an antique shop, you’ve probably passed by at least one thing that you could absolutely picture holding the soul of a tubercular Victorian child. These are those things, ranked in order of how likely I think the potential ghost inside is likely to go all Annabelle on someone:

5. The Blinded Bride.

A chicken wire sculpture with a blindfolded silver face and silk roses.

This is actually just a rad piece of outdoor sculpture, to be honest. It’s eerie, it’s evocative, and I love it. The artist who makes them, Shara Banisadr, is very cool. She was neatening up the area around the sculptures, and talked to us briefly about her work. Their faces are made of old vinyl records!

This wire lady also has friends:

A similar sculpture, of a silver-faced woman holding a wire child on her lap.

I could probably see this particular piece in a setting like Bloodborne or Elden Ring, but I really think she’s more likely to be kind of sad versus actively murderous. Unless you try to hurt her or steal her blindfold, then she would absolutely wreck you like a Mike Tyson made of fishhooks. Truly the luxury model of potentially haunted object. I’m absolutely going to invest in one of these ladies once I have sufficient outdoor space (or a window that directly faces my neighbors, either or). I feel like they’d be good companions for all of the Isabellas.

Murderghost probability: 10%

4. The Courteous Wig Stand.

A wig stand with large eyes and painted flowers.

There’s something about her I dig. She reminds me of the women in 50s ads for housewares. The small, vague smile and wide eyes speaks of a kind of brittle, exhausted politeness. It’s the same expression and energy I had back when I worked retail, and I can appreciate that.

She’s probably not malevolent. You’re much more likely to turn around in a darkened hallway and see her hovering four feet in the air behind you, glowing faintly and slowly rotating. Somewhere, a distant, echoey voice like wind over an open grave will whisper, “Do you need help finding anything?”

There’s no saving you if she runs out of Valium, though.

Murderghost probability: 30%

3. The Fading Child.

A drawing of a child in reddish-brown conte crayon.

There’s a certain sad-yet-focused intensity in this kid. The level of detail in their face, coupled with the strokes almost the exact color of dried blood, creates an image that’s at once aesthetically pleasing and extremely unsettling. They look vaguely displeased about something, and I’m pretty sure they think that’s my fault.

This is basically the exact kind of picture you see as a haunted object in movies. A mansion burns down, or cracks and crumbles like the House of Usher, and all that’s left is this kid. Staring. Subtly frowning. Lightning cracks the sky, and their brow furrows ever so slightly.

I don’t think the child is likely to murder anyone directly, but I refuse to believe that they haven’t been associated with a series of “accidents.”

Murderghost probability: 50%

2. The Tragic Hound.

A painting of a sad looking dog on a pink background. The picture is placed behind a basket, several large spools, and a wooden box.

Don’t let the puppy eyes fool you. This is absolutely haunted, and absolutely just waiting for you to let your guard down.

See the hints of red in the eyes? The way they seem to follow you around the room?

This painting absolutely houses some kind of Shadow Hearts-style monster. Like, I don’t know, an evil mailman. Notice how even the shop owner placed him behind several objects. It’s because they know. Do not gaze upon the full glory of the tragic hound, lest it pursue you for an eternity.

Murderghost probability: 70%

1. The Dapper Man.

A painting of a man in a jaunty blue uniform. The background and frame are both bright pink. The man's large, round eyes seem to bore into one's soul.

HE’S SEEN YOU.

Murderghost probability: Run.