Milwaukee Paranormal Conference Sunday Schedule

cropped-chupy_2017_tease_071217.jpg

Hello, Milwaukee Paranormal Conference fans! We will be announcing more details about our Friday the 13th show and our activities day on Saturday, Oct. 14 soon! Oct. 14 will include tours, tag-along investigations, lunch meetings, a Bigfoot hike, the Milwaukee Paranormal Film Fest a UFO presentation session and more!

For now, check out our line-up (subject to change) for our main conference event. Tickets for the day are $10. Please support us by buying your ticket herewww.brownpapertickets.com/event/3070451

SUNDAY OCTOBER 15

Milwaukee Paranormal Conference @ Irish Cultural and Heritage Center (2133 W. Wisconsin Ave.)

Hallamor Schedule

10-11: Allison Jornlin, “Milwaukee Forteana Vol. III”

11-12: Noah Leigh, “Based on True Events: When Hollywood Deviates From Reality”

12-1: Linda S. Godfrey, “Back to Bray Road”

1-2: Mary Marshall,”Paranormal Investigating in the Outdoors”

2-3: Dale Kaczmarek, “Ghost Photography”

3-4: Tobias Wayland, “The Chicago Flying Humanoid and Other Cases”

4-5: Heidi Hollis, “Who are the Shadow People and the Hat Man?”

Paranormal Pub Series Schedule 

11-12: Kristan T. Harris “Magic Behind Words: A Discussion on Secret Societies and Symbolism”

12-1: Society for Anomalous Studies, “Historical Hauntings: Supporting Local Historical Societies through Paranormal Fundraising”

1-2: Haunted Road Trip panel discussion. Moderator: Mike Huberty (See You on the Other Side podcast). Guests:  J. Nathan Couch (Downtown West Bend Ghost Walk), Valerie Kedrowski (Stevens Point Paranormal Club), Shelly Wells (Old Baraboo Inn).

2-3: Ghost Story Open Mic, hosted by Deadgar Winter and the Deadgirls

3-4: Kevin Nelson, “Techniques of a Legend Hunter: How to Unearth Obscure Legends and Lore.”

Workshops Room schedule

11-12: TBA

12-1: Robert Schoenecker, “Milwaukee Krampusnacht Planning Session”

1-2: Brew City Paranormal, “TBA”

2-3: TBA, “Bigfooting 101”

3-4: Dark Star Ministry, “Spirit Communication”

Buy your ticket herewww.brownpapertickets.com/event/3070451

 

Milwaukee Paranormal Conference 2017 Overview of Events

cropped-chupy_2017_tease_071217.jpg

Friday October 13: Friday the 13th Fest Part 3 (Riverwest Public House, 815 E. Locust St.) 9pm

Our spooky (and sexy) tradition continues with an evening of macabre music, burlesque, performance, prizes and a special Cryptid Art Show display on Public House’s gallery wall from Milwaukee Paranormal Conference’s art crew! Performers TBA soon.

Saturday October 14: Milwaukee Paranormal Conference Activities Day (various locations and times)

On Saturday we are going to give you a bunch of options of things to do throughout the day including the Milwaukee Paranormal Film Fest, walking tours, tag-along investigations, presentations, and the night will conclude with The Jabberwocky’s Ball. The day’s events will be available soon.

Sunday October 15: Milwaukee Paranormal Conference (Irish Cultural & Heritage Center, 2133 W. Wisconsin Ave.) 10am-5pm

Round up the usual suspects! Guest speakers, workshops, vendors, and more. After party at Shaker’s Cigar Bar (422 S. 2nd St.) Speaker line-up TBA soon.

We will have Vendor info soon. These vendor tables will go very quickly.
Interested Volunteers should e-mail milwaukeeparacon@gmail.com (even if you have volunteered in the past).

Ticket pre-sales will be up soon and will be a huge part of making the conference happen. If you enjoy the conference, consider contributing here: https://www.gofundme.com/savempc
All donations help!

Discount Merch and Wheel-O-Prizes at Friday the 13th Fest!

Friday the 13th Fest II: Dirty Thirties Carnival is coming up next week. In addition to music by The MilBillies and exciting dance performances from Skully Sati, Jeannette Daft, Nina Nazir, and  Dimitra (AND a mini-reptile zoo display from the Fox Valley Herpetological Society) we will be tabling with DISCOUNTED Milwaukee Paranormal Conference merch and will have a game you can play to win some unique prizes!

DISCOUNTED MERCH!

Please note these discounted prices are only available at the Friday the 13th Show.

2016 logo T-shirts: $8

mpc-2016-tshirts-1mpc-2016-tshirts-4

2016 logo tank tops: $7

They Walk Among Us, MPC fundraiser comp double CD with 22 local bands!: $4

walkcdart

Coffee mugs: $5

mpcmug

Wooden pins: $5

pin

Color program poster print: $8

colorprint

Stickers: $1

SPIN THE WHEEL-O-PRIZES!

For just a $1 suggested donation you can spin the (say it with me) WHEEL.O.PRIZES!

You’ll land on spaces that will read Spin Again, Epic Fail, Candy (entitling you to one piece of candy) or PRIZE! We’ll keep spinning until all the prizes are gone.

Our sensational prizes include:

Free tarot reading from Skully Sati

skully

Remote controlled flying shark (no party is complete without it!)

sharks

Free drink ticket for Riverwest Public House

cooplogo

A copy of Godzilla vs the Smog Monster DVD

godzilla-vs-hedorah-godzilla-vs-the-smog-monster-dvd-hyb-liveaction

Signed copy of Palookaville by Tea Krulos

ebay1214-005

Milwaukee Paranormal Conference t-shirt, coffee mug, wooden pin, and poster print (see photos above!)

Wobble head alien buddy
wobble

They Walk Among Us double comp CD

walkcdart

Ballyhoo preview issue by Tea Krulos and David Beyer, Jr.

bhoo

Want to promote your business, product, craft, or service? Contribute a prize to this list and we’ll update and promote it before the show. E-mail: milwaukeeparacon@gmail.com

friday13_part2_02colorweb

Milwaukee Paranormal Conference needs financial support to pay off it’s debts. You can make a donation here: https://www.gofundme.com/savempc

Friday the 13th: Dirty Thirties Carnival Line-up Revealed!

Friday the 13th Fest Part II: Dirty Thirties Carnival

Riverwest Public House (815 E. Locust) doors at 8pm, $7 admission

Music by The MilBillies, performances by Skully Sati, Nina Nazir, and Jeanette Daft. Emceed by Scotty Damned. Also featured: a mini-reptile zoo on display by the Fox Valley Herpetological Society and a Wheel-O-Prizes game.

Presented by Milwaukee Paranormal Conference

AMAZING! After a fantastic horrorpunk themed Friday the 13th Fest last May, show collaborators Tea Krulos and Skully Sati decided to return with another celebration of the notoriously unlucky day. This time around they’ve assembled a classical carnival theme with bluegrass music and sideshow style performance. There will be acts involving swords, snakes, veils, and more! You’ll not be disappointed, but you may leave feeling a lil’ dirty!

Take a look at our sensational performers:

The mystical Skully Sati, a new take on old school burlesque. She seduces and charms with her wicked and unique musings!

skully

The mesmerizing Nina Nazir, a belly-dancing beauty who entrances onlookers with her ability to perform effortlessly to any type of music including traditional belly dancing, rock, and modern fusion.

nina

The amazing Jeannette Daft, a talented dancer who will stun you with her sword dancing skills!

jeannette

The dazzling Dimitra performs mesmerizing hypnotic dances from around the world including a special dance with a LIVE serpent!
dimitra2

milbillies

PLUCKY! Featuring guitar, bass, banjo, mandolin, and fiddle, Milwaukee bluegrass band The MilBillies will provide the perfect soundtrack for our Dust Bowl era themed evening. Scotty Damned (of Creepy Little Things) will act as our evening’s ringleader as emcee of the show.

madisonherpmadherpherp3madisonherps

LIVE! Perhaps the most unique feature of the show is a mini-reptile zoo where people can see a sampling of animals from the Fox Valley Herpetological Society (a derivative of the Madison Area Herpetological Society), a group that educates enthusiasts and the general public about frequently misunderstood reptiles and amphibians.

We’ll also have a Wheel-O-Prizes people can spin for $1 to win tarot readings, drinks, Milwaukee Paranormal Conference swag, candy, and more!

It’ll be a night to remember!

Facebook Event Page: https://www.facebook.com/events/1475186019161634/

friday13_part2_02colorweb

Friday the 13th Fest Part II: Dirty Thirties Carnival

fridaythe13

Milwaukee Paranormal Conference presents Friday the 13th Fest Part II: Dirty Thirties Carnival
Friday, January 13, Riverwest Public House (815 E. Locust St.), 8pm $7

SAVE THE DATE! Friday the 13th Fest returns in January with a fun night of music, performance, and more! This time, instead of repeating a horrorpunk line-up like we did first time around, we’re going for more of an style Americana show.

Join as as we hearken back to the Dust Bowl era with vintage sideshow acts including snakes, veils, swords, and other surprises! Be charmed and awed by the talents of Nina Nazir, Jeannette Daft, Skully Sati, and Phoenix, with musical guest, The MilBillies!

There will be a mini-reptile zoo provided by the Fox Valley Herpetological Society (a derivative of the Madison Area Herpetological Society) and a Wheel-O-Prizes to spin up treats such as Tarot readings, drinks, and more! Special guest emcee Scotty Damned (of Creepy Little Things).

Come visit the “Dirty Thirties” with us for a Friday the 13th to be remembered. You’ll not be disappointed, but you may leave feeling a lil’ dirty. 😉

Facebook event page: https://www.facebook.com/events/1475186019161634/


The Milwaukee Paranormal Conference is in dire need of fundraiser. Unless this is accomplished, it is quite frankly done, permanently. You can help by contributing to our GoFundMe page here: www.gofundme.com/savempc
Or by buying MPC merch here: https://squareup.com/market/milwaukee-para-con

 

They Walk Among Us CD Release Show and Krampus Fest

Milwaukee Paranormal Conference volunteer Scotty Damned has done an amazing job putting together a benefit CD for the conference titled “They Walk Among Us.” We were blown away by the response from local punk, metal, (and other genres) bands who contributed tracks to this comp. Thanks to all bands that participated!

walkcdart

Here’s the track listing:

“What The Dark Conceals” – Slug Shell
“Dirty Skyline” – Samyaza
“Old Dark House” – The Dead Morticians
“Wolf’s Tongue” – Black Frost
“Helewe” – H1Z1
“Loneliness Quotient” – The First Rule
“Hogsback Road” – Ratbatspider
“…And Then You Die” – Play Dead
“The Shakes” – Bad Bread
“Same Shit, Different Dick” – The Meatcurtains
“Koala” – Billy Dreamer
“Weak Excuses” – 40 Oz Fist
“Of Miracles” – West View
“Irritated” – Dwelling In Desolation
“Floating Face Down” – Blood On The Playground
“They’re Coming To Get You Barbara” – Put Her In The Trunk
“Locked In A Box “- Creepy Little Things
“Asphyxia” – Once The Sun
“Cursed To Wander” – Cursed To Wander
“O_O “- Cold Ghosts
“For Those In Amber” – Astral/ Subastral
“Bigfoot Polka” – Sunspot

Artist Brian Defferding (creator of the graphic novel School: A Ghost Story) illustrated the album cover art, packed with paranormal and horror character favorites. To celebrate the CD’s release, we’re hosting a show Friday, December 16 (8pm) at Frank’s Power Plant (2800 S.Kinnickinnic Ave. in Bay View). Several of the bands contributing tracks to the CD are playing sets, including: Bad Bread, Black Frost, 40oz Fist, The Dead Morticians, and H1Z1.

We are also billing this as a Krampus Fest with the hopes that people show up dressed as Krampus or other Christmas horror characters. We are hoping to build interest into an annual Krampus themed event in Milwaukee.

krampus

Minnesota Krampus at Milwaukee Paranormal Conference

Admission is just $6, $10 includes a copy of the CD. The CD will also be available in our Square store after the show. Proceeds from the show’s door and CD sales help fundraise for the Milwaukee Paranormal Conference. Successful fundraising is imperative for the conference to continue. Help us out by attending this show and getting this CD packed with local talent.

krampusfest

Facebook event page: https://www.facebook.com/events/987771694684597/

The Devil in the Cornfield by Zelia Edgar

We’re thrilled to give you a Halloween treat– the winners of the Cult of Weird/ Milwaukee Paranormal Conference short fiction contest. We absolutely thrilled that all of our story winners (and honorable mentions) have been narrated by the extremely talented Darren Marlar on his Weird Darkness program. Light some candles and listen here:

And check out more Weird Darkness programs/ submit stories to Darren here: www.WeirdDarkness.com

We had 40 entries in our contest, a lot of unique and chilling takes. The only contest requirements were a 1500 word limit, a paranormal theme, and Wisconsin as a backdrop. Our top three stories were separated by a mere one point margin. Here is our first place contest winner.

yessica_devilillustration

Illustration by Xeroine Illustration

The Devil in the Cornfield

By Zelia Edgar

Forgive me for saying that the following events occurred when I was young, only fifteen in the autumn of ’64, living with my family a twenty-minute drive from Platteville.  I suppose it was October of that year when these things happened, as I sat alone on our front porch, waiting for my father to come in for the night.  The moon was low, casting an awkward, amber brightness upon the purple clouds, and the scarecrow that stands in the nearest cornfield was a dark, gaunt thing against the sky.

I noticed a bright light eclipsing the clouds and moon, swallowing up my vision.  As it cleared away, I saw a black car parked down by the barn, and a man, I thought, standing there next to the scarecrow, another shadow on the face of the horizon.  It certainly was an odd thing, for we expected no visitors, and seldom had passers-by.  Still, I wandered over to him.  If I had been in more of a mind to think, I would have thought it strange how tall he was – for the scarecrow stands exactly seven feet high, and this stranger was at most three inches shorter than it.

I approached him and said, “Hello.”

He only stood there, gazing deep into the stitched-up eyes of the scarecrow, and I took the opportunity to more fully study him.  As I said before, he was tall and spindly, his pant legs several inches short, while his sleeves hung almost to the knuckles of his spider-like hands.  It was his face, though, that struck me the funniest; his nose and chin were exceedingly narrow and pointed, in contrast with his large, globe-like cranium and huge dark eyes.  It was a full minute before he spoke.

“Did your father vote for the current president?” he droned.

“No,” I said, and explained that it was the Kennedy assassination that put him in office.

“Good,” he pulled a new notebook out of his pocket.  After awhile of scribbling, he looked up and gestured to the bluffs behind the house, “Limestone.”

“Yes.”

“Who lives in your house?” he grinned.

“My parents, brother and sister, me.”

“May I come in?”

It was at that question the terror struck and I, forsaking politeness, ran full tilt away from him and into the house.  Looking out the kitchen window, I scanned the horizon for the black-garbed man, but saw only the scarecrow, pointing at nothing.

I didn’t tell anyone about him.

It was early November that the change first happened – in the empty cornfields, it was as though the land was being burnt in giant patterns of dots and spirals.  My father thought it was strange, but, since no harm was really done, didn’t inform anyone about it.

Lights began to appear in the sky over our farm, from pulsating blobs of purple iridescence to metallic, flashing things that spun and disappeared.  The house itself, too, developed a mind of its own; objects were stacked, shattered, and shifted almost everyday.  My mother referred to it as a poltergeist, and urged us not to discuss it for fear of giving it power.  On the other hand, my father, who up until then had been nothing but practical in his life, said he heard voices from outer space, friendly travelers who told him he had been chosen.  My brother and sister responded, for the most part, with silence.

Winter that year brought terror – my brother came tearing into the house one afternoon, screaming incoherently about the angel of death, the plague of Egypt.  Piecing together where he had been, my father and I walked out to the cow pasture in the new snow, unprepared for what we would see.

Every last cow was dead, their empty ribcages yawning at the sky, all their organs stolen with surgical precision.  The unnerving thing, though, stalking amid the carcasses in the fresh snow, was the complete lack of blood – from the snow, from the bodies, from anything, like something had taken it before performing its unspeakable robbery.  Things only disintegrated from there.

How can I explain a decade of hell?  Every year, the new crops were burnt in the strange radial designs, every new animal was slaughtered and bloodless weeks after its arrival.  The house was turned into a representation of madness, items constantly moving, meaningless messages scrawled across walls and tables, doors ceaselessly slamming.  One day, a window, not just the pane, but the actual window, the opening in the wall, moved over two feet.

My family, too, was shattered.  Shortly after the mutilations of the cattle my father, convinced men from Venus had chosen him as the leader of a new age, ran off with a young blonde that called herself Astraix.  I don’t know where they went.  My brother over the course of years descended into a paranoia of things he called the bright doctors that, he claimed, took him in the night.  One morning I woke with bizarre burning on my face, and that same morning, he was gone.  My mother, inconsolable with the loss of her son, and convinced that demons were to blame, made the mistake of discussing the matter with a local priest.  She was promptly sent to the institute at Mendota.

My sister and I were the only two left.  She claimed no visions, no visitations, as a matter of fact, she never spoke a word of what she thought about anything.  We lived this way, silent in the face of insanity for two years, when, without warning, she left me, one July day, to live with an uncle of ours.  Before she left, I asked her why.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, “None of them are coming home.  We need to get out, move on.”

I felt I couldn’t leave, like a ghost that haunts its grave, and said, “But after all this time – what was it that finally got you?”

She looked out across the dead fields, and said, “I know what took the kids from the Belmont mound.”

Those were the last words she ever said to me.

It was October of that year, 1974, and I was then 25 years of age, that I wandered the empty cornfields alone.  I had half a mind to jump off the bluff, but didn’t.  I looked up at the night, burning iridescent purple, heard the doors slamming in the empty house, and then I saw it – the scarecrow, still standing, still beating at the sky.  I stood next to it, gazed in its faded face, and saw myself in it, a thing thrashing at the unseen, beaten by the unknown, and I remembered that night ten years prior, that strange, grinning man that I had refused to let in my house, and I screamed.

“You hear me you stupid thing, you tall spindly black-clothed man with crooked fingers – you devil in the cornfield, come out!  I don’t know why you did this to us, or what it is you wanted, but take it!  Come into my house!  I don’t know what else you could possibly do!”

I was momentarily blinded.  I thought maybe it was the light, coming to take me to where it took my brother, but I was mistaken – a black, unmarked car rolled through the fields.  The black clothed man got out, walked up to me, held up his wrist as though looking at a watch, and said, “What is your time cycle?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed.

He walked over to the house, and stopped at the open doorway.

“Well?” I said, “What’s stopping you?”

“You need to let me in.”

I walked in before him, and said, “Come in.”

We sat in the living room, and he proceeded to ask me all sorts of questions – strange questions, regarding scars and names and what model of car everyone I ever knew had.  I answered to the best of my ability, as he took everything down in another new-looking notebook.  When he told me he was finished, he said, “May I take a photograph of you?”

“Yes,” I said, “Whatever you like.”

There was a flash of light, and I woke up in my bed the next morning.

You will forgive me for saying these things happened when I was just a young man, for the truth is I am only fifteen, and it is only autumn of ’64, and I live with my parents and brother and sister twenty minutes from Platteville.  And this is where I am confused, for I fell asleep alone in ’74, and woke up to my family in ’64, and I have lived ten years that are forgotten, and have seen a future that is no more.

What I do know, is that if I ever see that thing, that man, that devil in the cornfield, he is welcome in my house, for I feel now that he did not cause the evil that came, only was prevented from preventing it.


Please support the Milwaukee Paranormal Conference and our programming by making a donation today. More info: www.gofundme.com/savempc

The Fortune Teller of Rhinelander by Marlin Bressi

We’re thrilled to give you a Halloween treat– the winners of the Cult of Weird/ Milwaukee Paranormal Conference short fiction contest. We absolutely thrilled that all of our story winners (and honorable mentions) have been narrated by the extremely talented Darren Marlar on his Weird Darkness program. Light some candles and listen here:

And check out more Weird Darkness programs/ submit stories to Darren here: www.WeirdDarkness.com

We had 40 entries in our contest, a lot of unique and chilling takes. The only contest requirements were a 1500 word limit, a paranormal theme, and Wisconsin as a backdrop. Our top three stories were separated by a mere one point margin. Here is our second place contest winner.

chart_of_the_hand

The Fortune Teller of Rhinelander

By Marlin Bressi

“Such a peculiar little girl,” her grandmother would say whenever Rosey went outside to play. While other neighborhood children would jump rope, play hide and seek along the marshy banks of the Pelican River or sell lemonade from a stand on the sidewalk, Rosey Palm would wrap herself in her grandmother’s paisley shawl, put on her shower cap and tell the fortunes of those who strolled down the quaint, tree-lined thoroughfare of Randall Avenue.

Rosey’s fascination with palmistry developed as a result of her own misfortune at a young age; when she was only three years old she had yanked the tail of Mr. Stanley’s ornery beagle, Samson, who responded by snapping his fangs at the girl’s fingers. Rosey was left with a jagged pink scar which ran down the side of her palm, crooked and meandering like the course of the Pelican, which she could see from her bedroom window.

The scar fascinated the young girl, as well as the lines that zig-zagged across her palm like highways on a flesh-toned road map. While other children were interested in games and toys, Rosey became fascinated with the human hand. She would spend entire afternoons at the town library reading about fingerprints, fingernails, and any other subject related to the hand. Her favorite subject, however, was palm reading.

Rosey’s grandmother was dismayed about the girl’s interest in fortune telling. “If your mother and father were still alive, they would surely not find such behavior appropriate for a young girl,” Rosey’s grandmother would say. Nonetheless, she allowed the girl to read palms and tell fortunes and costume herself like a gypsy princess, as long as she stayed within sight of the house.

One quiet and uneventful mid-summer afternoon, Rosey absconded with her grandmother’s folding card table and set up a fortune telling booth on the sidewalk in front of the house. Her grandmother had gone downtown to buy groceries, but Rosey didn’t think she would object to her borrowing the table. The passersby were more than happy to give Rosey a quarter for a palm reading, since they had a soft spot in their hearts for the little girl who, at such a tender age, had endured so much hardship.

Before long, a woman came down the street, her natural beauty concealed behind horn-rimmed glasses, and she was fashionably dressed in a floral dress and white gloves. Rosey immediately liked the woman, and hoped that she could talk her into a palm reading.

“Beautiful afternoon, isn’t it?” the woman smiled as she neared Rosey and her makeshift fortune telling booth.

“Yes, ma’am,” the young girl replied. “My name is Rosey Palm, and I can tell you your fortune for a quarter.”

The woman with the glasses chuckled. “That’s a tempting offer, young lady. Unfortunately, I don’t have much time. I’m waiting for the bus to Milwaukee and before it arrives I wanted to see the house where I grew up.”

“You grew up on Randall Avenue?” asked Rosey, excited to make the acquaintence of a native Rhinelander, and one who appeared to have gone on to bigger and better things. Rosey supposed that she might be an actress or singer; they were the only types of women who wore those lovely, long white gloves.

“Yes. Right there is where I grew up,” the woman replied, pointing to a white house with cheerfully-painted red shutters.

“That’s my house!” exclaimed Rosey, her mouth agape in astonishment. “I live here with my grandmother. I moved here last year, after…. after, my parents passed away.”

The woman in glasses gave Rosey a sympathetic stare. “I’m sorry to hear that, my dear,” she said. “It must be terribly difficult for you.”

“I suppose,” replied Rosey. “But I make the best of it. So, you must have been the one who lived in this house before me and Grandma?”

The woman didn’t hear the question; she was gazing vacantly at the house, which caused her expression to change into one of sadness. Rosey asked her what was wrong.

“Nothing is wrong, dear,” she said. “I’m just remembering things. Things that happened long ago, yet are as fresh in my mind as if they just happened today.”

Her statement, along with the hint of sadness in her voice, aroused Rosey’s curiosity. “What kind of things? Did something bad happen to you when you lived in my house?”

“Something very bad, unfortunately,” the woman replied.  She took a moment to compose herself, and then told the young fortune teller her story. “I was playing outside, when a man came up to me and said he was from the water company, and that he needed to come into the house and check on the pipes in the basement. There was no one else home, so I let him inside.” She paused. “He did some awful things to me.” The woman’s voice trailed off as she recalled the horrendous experience.

“What kind of things?”

The woman in glasses shook her head and told Rosey that she was far too young to understand, and that she didn’t want to frighten the young girl with her story.

“Don’t be afraid, though. They caught the man and he went to jail for a very long time. I only wish I could have done things differently, and perhaps it wouldn’t have happened the way it did. But I was young and didn’t know any better. Nobody thinks of such terrible things happening in a town like this.”

“What did the man look like?” asked Rosey. She was deeply interested in hearing the rest of the woman’s story. She had read many books about crime in the library, in the books about fingerprints which she pored over like a student of criminology.

“He was a tall man, in a gray suit and a black fedora. He– ”

“What’s wrong?”

The woman took off her glove in order to glance at her watch. “Nothing, dear. I just realized that my bus will be here soon and I must leave. It was very nice meeting you, Rosey,” she said, extending her ungloved hand to the girl for a handshake.

Rosey shook her hand, noticing the pink jagged scar on the woman’s palm. Rosey watched the woman disappear around the corner, and was still grasping the strangeness of the incident when she turned around and saw a man walking toward her. He was wearing a gray suit and a black fedora.

Please support the Milwaukee Paranormal Conference and our programming by making a donation today. More info: www.gofundme.com/savempc