Author Archives: Hayden Coombs

I never thought my life would unravel on such an ordinary night. The plan was simple: drive from Kansas to Colorado, crash with my buddy for the weekend, and decompress from the grind. I’d packed a cooler, loaded my favorite playlist, and hit the road under the ink-black sky. The world was quiet, except forContinue reading “The Silent Hitchhiker”

The wind howled through the vast, desolate landscape of the Navajo reservation, carrying with it the eerie echoes of the past. The old farmhouse stood alone, its wooden structure weathered by time and the harsh elements. The silence of the night was oppressive, broken only by the occasional yip of a coyote in the distance.Continue reading “Navajo Reunion”

The summer of 2002 began like every other summer in our small town—a time of boundless freedom and sun-drenched days. The air was thick with the smell of freshly cut grass and the sound of cicadas buzzing in the trees. We lived in a close-knit community where everyone knew each other’s names, where front doorsContinue reading “The Whisperer”

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in deep hues of orange and purple as the shadows of the pine trees lengthened across the forest floor. I had always found comfort in the woods, a place to escape the noise and demands of daily life. The deep silence, the earthy scent of pineContinue reading “Man in the Pines”

When I was eleven, life was all about adventure. My father, a serviceman stationed at Fort Campbell, had been deployed for most of the time we lived there, leaving me with endless curiosity about the place we called home. Fort Campbell was a massive military base, a sprawling mix of civilization and wilderness that hadContinue reading “Fort Campbell”

The hardest part about carrying this story for so long is the fact that no one will ever know the truth. For decades, I’ve kept this secret buried deep, locked away in the darkest corners of my mind, but the memories—those cursed memories—they refuse to stay hidden. I’m an old man now, closer to theContinue reading “Solomon Giants”

When I was a young priest, fresh out of seminary, I was assigned to a small parish in Spain, a place steeped in history and tradition. My mentor, Father Mateo, was a middle-aged priest in his early 50s, a man who had enjoyed a peaceful career with little drama. He was kind, wise, and deeplyContinue reading “Signs of Darkness”

It was a clear, crisp night in Cedar City, the kind that Southern Utah is known for. The sky was a blanket of stars, the air was cold enough to bite through the uniform, and the campus of Southern Utah University was unusually quiet. As an officer fresh out of the academy, still carrying theContinue reading “Virginia”

I grew up in the heart of Oregon’s Willamette Valley, where the air is thick with mist and the scent of damp earth clings to everything. The early 2000s were a strange time—an era saturated with ghost hunting shows, urban legends, and a growing fascination with the supernatural. For most people, these stories were justContinue reading “Whispers in the Pines”

The night was a blur of laughter, snacks, and the muted glow of a TV screen as my best friend and I indulged in a sleepover. We were typical teenagers—14 or 15 years old—who often found ourselves on the edge of trouble but always managed to stay just this side of innocent mischief. That night,Continue reading “The Shadow”