Something Wrong is back.

--Written by Alexander Saxton, Anthony Botelho, and Jacob Duarte Spiel

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That’s not to say I ever stopped fearing fish, but by the time I stepped through the doors of the aquarium that fear had been buried under 16 straight years of education and exposure. I thought I had it beat.

But you’re not here for the story of my life. You’re here for the story of the Darkfish.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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“And what do you ask in return?” She said. The Druj shook her head at the question, as though saddened by a small, suspicious mind. “My child,” she said. “Who made you so mistrustful? I ask almost nothing in return. A small inconvenience, and quickly mended.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Ashlie White

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So staring at this painting every day, well, you can imagine the kinds of tricks my mind started playing on me. Or at least, that I thought it was playing on me.

Subtle things at first. I’d let the colours blend, imagine the trees blowing in the wind and the water moving with the tide. It was only four months ago that the... strangeness began.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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But the Hunter was not fazed; if anything, their tawny eyes seemed to catch light. They passed back and forth in front of the dead animal, examining it from many angles, clicking their tongue.

“Do you know,” said the Hunter, turning to their followers. “I think the animal did this on purpose. To frighten us. I think this ‘Tiger’ may be the one we’ve been looking for.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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It was the sort of place with the same number of people in it at 11am and 2am, and often the exact same ones. You could stick your head in the door at noon, and it would already be night inside. The people who drank there had been banished from the day.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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The solitude, on the other hand, was, what’s the word? Palpable. I wasn’t at all prepared for it. They tried to tell us, but it’s something you can’t really understand until you go through it. Knowing you’re 3 trillion klicks away from the closest human. Well, the closest human who isn’t asleep.

--Written by Mary Gillis, and performed by Joey O'Dael and Alexander Saxton.

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I remember even now how our grandmother described the Draugr’s corpse-blue flesh, his long fingernails, and how he crept away at night to gorge on the blood of children in their cradles. But as I say, such tales are no longer encouraged. The Christians say we have eternal life, and dislike the suggestion there is something unnatural about wanting to live forever.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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The meat hissed as it slapped onto the grill, and the Pit Master pressed down with his chrome spatula, not hard enough to release the juices, but enough to sear the geometry of the cooking grate into the beef.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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“It was big.” “How big?” “Big.” I saw it a few nights after that. I was sitting in the kitchen, and I heard what I thought was the cat, coming down the hall. It wasn’t the cat. But it wasn’t much smaller, either.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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