STORIES FROM
THE CHANNEL

There is a place between the living and the dead — not a doorway, but a wound. They call it The Channel.

 

It slips through objects and stories: a bell that tolls for the living, a widow who rises without hands, a child with red-lit eyes, a bone lantern that flickers when spirits draw near. Every cursed relic is another opening, every whispered legend another fracture in the veil.

 

Those who brush against The Channel vanish, change, or return carrying pieces of the other side — footprints in ash, voices that aren’t theirs, shadows that move without them. And the more these stories spread, the wider The Channel grows.

 

Enter carefully. Once The Channel notices you, it does not let go.