The Legend of Darklore Manor and Other Tales of Terror by Joseph Vargo, Joseph Iorillo

Jonah never changed his story.
     "Some say that Todd's spirit still roams these woods on Halloween night, searching for his friend who deserted him. They say that he lurks in the darkness and shuns the light and that he will only come near it if he's invited by the living. They warn that if you see him wandering in the dead of night, you should run the other way, or he'll drag you into the dark woods and down into his well where the shadows will feast upon your blood."
     "That's some pretty spooky stuff," Greg said, "but I don't believe a word of it."
     "No?" the stranger cackled, "but you've heard the tale before. You said so yourselves."
     "Yeah," Rob chuckled, "well, that's just a ghost story, and I don't believe in ghosts, or killer shadows, or monsters that prowl the night."
     "I see," the storyteller hissed. "Then perhaps you will indulge me with a test of your courage to prove the merit of your words. It's very simple, unless you are afraid of the dark." The masked figure leaned closer and whispered "All you have to do is blow out the candle."
     The three boys sat motionless, exchanging timid glances at one another for several moments as the storyteller's words echoed in their heads. Finally Rob leaned in over the top of the Jack-o-lantern and said, "I don't know who you are mister, but I'm not afraid of you... and I'm not afraid of the dark."
     Before anyone could stop him, Rob took a deep breath and blew out the flickering candle, instantly plunging them into pitch blackness.

When the police found the boy's blood-spattered campsite the following day, they suspected the worst. The withered husk of a Jack-o-lantern stared at them from the center of the fire pit—its face frozen in a mocking expression of howling laughter. Drag marks on the ground led into the forest, but the trail went cold after a few hundred feet. Search parties scoured the woods for the boy's bodies, but no traces of any of them was ever found. The news that Jonah Trask had escaped from the Northcliff Institution for the Criminally Insane on Halloween night left the authorities with little hope of ever finding the boys alive.
     Tales of dark things prowling the shadows of the Manitoa Forest are still told around campfires, and to this day no one dares to venture into those haunted woods after sundown, especially on Halloween night. Perhaps it is a superstitious fear of the dark itself that keeps them away, or perhaps it is a very real fear of the darkness that lurks within the deepest recesses of the human soul.

Sister Salvation
    by Joseph Vargo and Joseph Iorillo
    E lizabeth roused from a numb state of unconsciousness to find herself caught in a living nightmare. Her vision was the first of her senses to return. She was in a dark chamber, dimly illuminated by candlelight. The rough stone walls suggested a basement or a prison cell. Her body ached from head to foot and she could not move her limbs. Panic seized her as she realized that she was strapped to a cold steel chair that was bolted to the center of the concrete floor. Her wrists were handcuffed to the rusty metal arms of the chair by antique manacles. A leather muzzle was strapped over the lower half of her face, making breathing nearly impossible. Her stunned eyes registered a red circle painted on the floor surrounding her chair, with five large candles set at intervals around the perimeter.
     She began gasping and weeping as the sheer horror of her situation became apparent. She was not dreaming. She was horribly awake, and she was going to die here violently.
     The last thing she remembered was walking to her car through the parking garage at her accounting firm. She recalled fumbling around in her purse for her car keys but her mind was a blank after that. Her aching head and blurred vision told her that she must have been drugged and abducted. Now she was completely at the mercy of her captor, for what