Gris Lee Stories

The Nosferatu hub of Canada was buried under the earth, not far from the edge of Quebec. It consisted of a complex network of warrens. They stretched far, connecting to the sewer systems of several big cities. I’d spent a good few years cultivating my relationship with the supernatural, masquerading as a changeling along the way. At one point I managed to stumble across something called the ‘SchreckNet’. Apparently a computer network for the kindred, if I wanted access I’d be wise to seek out one of the current heads of maintenance. At the time, Richard 'Dick' Harden was my closest bet. Having recognised the name from an online content creator, I decided to follow through on him. Upon reaching the warrens, one of their kind came to guide me through the passages. Before seeking out Dick, I made sure to follow protocol and sought out the baron first. My guide led me on through the affectionately named ‘throne room’. Upon a grand chair cobbled together from scrap metal sat a glamo...

There was a brief period when I used to work at a little bar in some British town I forgot. I worked for one Sylvester, who was an interesting fellow. It would’ve been a fairly uneventful gig, if it weren’t for him and the little group of friends he used to bring in. They were supernatural conspiracy fans, all of them. The group consisted of four other people. The first was an older gentleman in a wheelchair, who taught history at the university. A young goth woman, who seemed to be his student, usually showed up still donning her lanyard and professional clothes, makeup half done. The other two were an eccentric Indian man, and you stereotypical paranoid mechanic. A colourful bunch to be sure. On a quiet night I could overhear their conversations from the bar. I would quietly chuckle at a few, knowing all too well how close to right they were. One summer though, they all went their separate ways. Sylvester himself vanished too. They never did return, and thus my time at the bar quickl...

It was 1980’s Britain, in an underground London rock club, when I realised that vampires exist. At least, in this version of earth anyhow. In fact, I would soon come to learn that all manner of supernatural beings were lurking just beneath the masquerade of regular society. I was working as a roadie at the time for some up and coming band. They were doing a tour through a few select clubs across Britain. I’d be hoping to get some insight into the majesty of the rock and roll lifestyle. However, it turned out that these lads weren’t much for conversation. Their standoffish nature didn’t faze me too much. After all, there was still plenty of opportunity to meet interesting people amongst the crowds. Little did I know just how right I would be.  The time was close to midnight when the band began their set. After setting things up, and making sure the musicians had drinks, I snuck off to sit at the bar. The show was alright, nothing too special. Seems the man beside me thought the same...