You come home after class and drop your backpack on the dorm floor with a thud. Nature calls and you shuffle towards your bathroom. You open the door and find Phoebe taking a bubble bath!

You're huddled behind a car as a trio of zombies shuffle pass. You grip the stolen police shotgun in your hand and look to see if the coast is clear. Its not. A businesswoman is running down the street in high heels. Trailing behind her like some grotesque parade is a zombie horde. You have seconds to help...

You stand on the porch wearing a suit that you absolutely hate. Not that the suit is uncomfortable or ugly, you just hate wearing it. Three weeks ago Mercy Hospital in New Orleans called about an offer to house hospice patients at your plantation. The plantation. The sprawling one-hundred-and twenty acre grounds and old world mansion. A manor with its charming architecture. You restored this place over five years after your divorce. It was once only a rundown place you inherited. It's taken years for it to return a profit. You're keeping the bills paid by renting nights and weekends but things are getting tight. The hospital's generous offer would easily solve your cash issues. Today Mercy Hospital is sending its administrator for a tour. You were told Ms. Lane would be here at eight o'clock sharp. You see the black BMW pull up and a woma. gets out. Your stomach drops... its your ex-wife, Savannah Lane. The same woman who divorced you ten years ago saying you didn't have the drive to succeed. You realize when they said Ms. Lane you didn't remember her maiden name. You put on a smile as she approaches.

You come home and the lights to the apartment are dimmed.. "Cheryl?" you call out, "Honey, I'm home." You look down the hall to see a row of tea lights in cups leading from the living room, past the bathroom, and stopping at the bedroom. Then you hear the romantic music. You drop everything and follow the lights. Your heart is pounding, you lips feel dry, and your hands tremble. You open the door to the bedroom.

You pull into the rented beach hut right next to Dana's 2018 Nissan sedan. You get out and stretch, it's been a long drive. The entire trip was consumed with one particular thought... why did Dana insist you join her. You two have been friends since your freshman year in high school. You've nursed each other through hangovers and broken hearts. She's your best friend. As you approach the door to the beach house you hear her calling you near the shore. You turn to wave and just freeze. Dana is wearing a bikini! You know how conscious she is about her body. She's always been a bit thick and tended to hide it. But this? You walk over.

You watch the rioting mob of "Rotting Flesh" fans as they scream for an encore. As the manager of the Death Metal band you see dollar signs as the merchandise tables are quickly sold out of t-shirts and other band related products. One particular woman is licking a figurine of Debbie Dreadful, the lead singer. You realize that these people would buy "Rotting Flesh" toliet paper if they could. The entire band are multimillionaires. This is the eighth tour since the band's double platinum album "Tastes Like Sin". You head backstage, out the rear exit, and knock on Debbie's personal tour bus. You hear her say, "Come in". She's sipping white wine while drying her black hair. The bus is filled with Johan Sebastian Bach's "Brandenburg Concerto". You tell her the merchandise is selling out.

You just got a big promotion at work and decide to head out to "Bean There, Done That" coffee shop to get a cappuccino and a slice of their heavenly cheesecake. As you enter you hear the harsh scrape of a chair and a snarl of disgust. A man pushes past you leaving a beautiful blonde woman crying at the table he just abandoned.

It's 92 degees out with 74% humidity. In short, its summer in South Florida. You just got off work and went home. You don't even think about it, you change into a bathing suit, grab a towel, and head to the apartment complex's pool. You arrive and stake out a free chair and begin to apply sunscreen when you feel water splash across your flip-flops. You look into the pool and see a woman staring at you. She's not beautiful. She's utterly gorgeous. She smiles as you stare at her and puts her arms over the edge of the pool.

She walks in the door to your apartment and you see she's taking careful steps. You finish making the coffee. Alissa works hard and she's always on her feet. "That feels better," she sighs when kicking off her high heels. She sits down on the couch and you see her feet look really sore. Alissa looks at her feet then you. She bites her lower lip.

Ravenwood Manor. The sprawling dilapidated house was abandoned in 1936 and has stood empty for almost a century. The lore of this place isn't a mystery. No one wants to live here. Rumors say that Jeremiah Ravenwood held his oldest daughter, Riley, captive here until she murdered him. Per the urban legends she gave birth to ten children. Legends also said Jeremiah was their father and Riley drowned them after birth. You and a few friends have decided to explore the near ancient mansion. You split up and you are alone when Riley's ghost finds you upstairs in her bedroom.

You hear the howl of rage penetrate through the wood of the door. It sounds like a maniac is on the rampage. The priest staggers out of the bedroom holding his bleeding head. The assistant priest is clutching a deep bite wound on his forearm. "Sorry, we can't help," Father Montenegro says in a rush of words as he stumbles past you. "The devil has her," the other Catholic priest says. They're talking about your wife Hailey Brown, renowned archeologist and mother to your kids. She just got back from a dig in Egypt and last night she put on a strange necklace as a joke. You two had been celebrating her successful venture and had been a bit tipsy on some wine. She went crazy. You manage to force the door to your bedroom closed and then there was the frantic call to the nearest priest. That was twelve hours ago...

Your cruising the New Mexico desert on your dirt bike. It's hot, scorching day bit you have plenty of water and a GPS navigation system. You skid to a stop throwing up sand that scatters in the desert wind.You cut the motor to the bike and take a sip of water. Then you hear it. A soft banging like something hitting aluminum. You glance around but see nothing. But then you spot the sand near your wheels jump in rhythm to the sound. You get off your bike and hear someone yelling and banging from under the sand. You snag a collapsible shovel you carry to dig out your wheels from deep dunes and start shoveling. A half hour later you find the aluminum drum. You pry off the lid and you see a woman inside. She's weak and disoriented but alive. You pull her out, give her water, and reach for your satellite phone.

The knock on the door is not normal. It sounds more like a cop demanding entry into your place. You cross the distance between your couch and the door and peek through the peephole. "Oh no," you say without thinking, "it's Josie." Josie Torres, your ex-girlfriend from five years ago. The same woman who turns up in your life like the proverbial bad penny. She's wild. She's rude. She's unapologetic. And she's here... again. You open the door because opening it is better than her busting it down. She grins at you.

You're walking from the Boar's Head Pub in East London. The night is oddly quiet and you're in good spirits. Between the pints you've drank and Maggie the barmaid's number in your pocket life is pretty good right now. Then something heavy lands on your back forcing you face down in the street! You twist and scream but whatever has you manages to drag you into an alleyway. You feel the sting of scrapes and cuts all over the front of you. You're flipped over and all you can see is a mouth filled with jagged teeth and dull, lifeless eyes. You fling up your arms to ward off the attack. An attack that never comes. Suddenly the weight on your chest is gone. Something is coughing and rasping nearby. You see a woman standing over something and you gasp as she drives two shiny daggers into its chest. Your attacker turns to grayish black dust before scattering in the night's breeze.

You stomp up the stairs towards the bedroom in the loft. You've been at the cabin several hours and found it needs more repairs than you'd hoped for. Not only that but this place is in the middle of nowhere! Uncle Colin left it to you in his will. Why? You have no idea. He didn't seem all that fond of you. So why leave YOU this cabin and the forty acres it sits on? He was an odd bird, the outcast of your Mom's side of the family. Uncle Colin had no kids, never got married, and per your Mom never had a girlfriend. "Weird old man," you grumble, opening the door to the loft. You look into the room and see there's someone here. Not just a someone, but a beautiful woman dressed in a near transparent gown. Her hair is long and the color of moonlight. Then you spot the ears. "An elf?" you mutter.

Your buddy Jake and his wife Carole asked you to come to dinner. You've been divorced from your ex-wife for 18 months now and they think its time for you to rejoin the human race. You arrive and Jake has this smirk, an expression you know better than to trust. His wife looks nervous like she's aware of some secret but doesn't have the abilty to stop it. "We have another guest joining us," Jake says, "her name is Chelsea and she's a three-time divorcee." "Jake!" Carole say, "Thats impolite!" "You set me up with a blind date?!" you say a bit too angrily. "And here she is," Jake announces. The woman approaching the table seems to be of two minds about staying. She has the same subtle expression you're sure you have. She's really pretty but she's Plus Sized. A startled look of ambush. She sits down, her body moving with grace. She takes a careful breath snd looks at you.

You and your buddies love urban exploration. Your YouTube channel chronicles you delving into abandoned houses, factories, and hospitals. Today you're in Ohio at the old Saint Joseph's on Todd Avenue. You've explored deep into its bowels when you come across a sealed door in the sub-basement. As your friends go to search elsewhere you manage to pry open the door. Then you see her. Its a woman with very long blonde hair lying in a hospital bed. The walls around her are peeling and there's an odd medicinal and mold smell in the air. All the charts and medicine bottles have faded labels. With a shaking hand you reach out to check for a pulse. You scream when she sits up!

You're at wit's end. Being the only goth kid in high school has become the bane of your existence. The jocks keep bullying you, the cheerleaders make up mean cheers as you walk by. Even the teachers roll their eyes at you. But all that is about to change! You bought a grimoire off some girl on Craigslist who swore the spells within actually work. Now you're in the janitor's closet whipping up the herbs and memorizing the incantation to summon a demon to do your bidding. But you couldn't find the specific mushroom so you stole some canned mushrooms from the cafeteria. You cast the spell! A cloud of red sulfur rises and you start choking. As it clears you see black horns appear and then.... A female demon in a business suit holding a clipboard?

You stagger through the battlefield, you sword arm aching from hours of fighting. You're looking for Prince Hagar, your older brother and heir to the Ashanti Kingdom. As a Knight Errand its your sworn duty to find or save the prince. Then you see him. He's lying on the ground either unconscious or near death. A female demon, an ally of the evil Empress Lyssa of Calitonia, is squatting over the prince's body preparing to deliver the killing blow. You scream out a challenge that stops her.

Dusk is falling in the woods your grandfather owns. You've been out just walking and trying to cope with your divorce. Miriam and you had been married three years. You thought everything was fine. Then Marcus came into the picture. Smooth talking, possessive Marcus who sweep Miriam away from you. You trudge back towards Grandpa's house when you see her.Long golden hair in a long, thick braid. A slender, almost ethereal body. A dress that sparkles in the dying light. And gossamer wings. She almost floats, light on her feet. A leisurely spin brings her to face you.