Sarah Arena
Bio
Podcaster and writer of Trial by Ordeal. Practicing Tarot Reader and Legal Enthusiast
Stories (4)
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In the Defense of the Devil
He was stabbed 20 times with a pocketknife. 20 frenzied stabs he never saw coming from his 19-year-old baby faced friend. Gasping for air, eyes wide in shock, Alan crumpled to the ground bleeding profusely. He died shortly after arriving at the hospital.
By Sarah Arena5 years ago in Criminal
Another Kind of Witch Trial
Envision a city where the sum of its parts struggle against one another to establish their own uniqueness and variety while remaining harmonized under its many layers of identity and history you will find yourself in New Orleans, more specifically where the battle for novelty is most apparent, the French Quarter. You can stroll past the unmistakable sights of period architecture layered on top of one another in such a way its age could be determined like on the rings of a tree.
By Sarah Arena5 years ago in Geeks
House of Horrors
She was pregnant with her first child; he was a successful bonds tradesman on Wall Street. It was 1989, a successful man with a budding new family needed to find an emblem of his success. It wouldn’t be gold cuff links or a new Rolex watch, this time he would search for a house. A house to accommodate his first-born child and beautiful young bride but also show the world how well he’d done. And he had certainly done well. But he hadn’t heard the rumors, knew nothing of the local lore in Nyack, New York, he was perfectly oblivious and blissfully unaware when he stroked a check for 32,500 on a down payment for the stately mansion overlooking the Hudson. Perhaps he wouldn’t have minded if he knew, perhaps he would have dismissed the stories of poltergeists and hostile ghosts. In fact, it was likely he would, but he sued because he wasn’t given the option to.
By Sarah Arena5 years ago in Horror
To Kill A Ghost
Witnesses described it as an icy cold night, moonless and pitch dark with the air so thick and suspended it was one of those nights where anything could happen to anyone at any moment. Anxiety was circulating as the whispers grew to worry and the worry grew to near panic primed perfectly for a violent climax. A malevolent and rather physically engaging specter had begun to appear around the small neighborhood of Hammersmith, London. The men, good men, good honest hardworking men became frustrated with their inability to protect their wives and daughters. Wives and daughters tittered nervously, apprehensive to move about freely as they were previously accustomed to. It had been a harrowing two months for the residents of Hammersmith, a harrowing two months that would end in murder on that icy, moonless night in January, a murder punctuated with the haunt of a question mark for centuries.
By Sarah Arena5 years ago in Horror
