LUCKY • by Chris Grebe
“If it doesn’t come from Safeway or Target, you can’t have it.” That’s the rule Marlo made up for herself a while back, after she lost the job at Wendy’s. She had stuck to it too. All through the winter,… Continue Reading
Horror
THE MAN BY THE RIVER • by Quinn Baker
I used to wash dishes at an upscale restaurant. The type of place where the help was supposed to stay hidden from the customers in case our existence would offend them. The restaurant resided next to a river that was… Continue Reading
UNREQUITED ZOMBIE LOVE • by Michael McCourt
It’s not easy being in love when you’re undead. I mean, this definitely isn’t the afterlife I would have chosen for myself. If I had the choice, I’d still be living and breathing and sitting in AP Calc next to… Continue Reading
PRACTICALLY AN ETERNITY • by Stephen Kyo Kaczmarek
“I hate funerals,” I whisper. “Who don’t, boss?” Ah, Lomax. In his 5’2”, motheaten glory, he’s doughy as flapjacks and almost as aware. “Assassins, morticians, beneficiaries of juicy wills, and we other lowly disciples of greed and grift. At least,… Continue Reading
MUMMY AND THE STRENGTH OF SPIDERWEBS • by Sarah M Jasat
After the sun goes down, Mummy and I sit in the dark. I brush my hair, then my dolly’s, then mummy’s, slicing through the strands with my comb. When I hear Daddy’s key in the lock, I know it’s time… Continue Reading
STOKER SYNDROME • by Paul A. Freeman
My name’s Kari Herman, and I’m not sure whether I murdered my landlord. Hopefully I did, in which case that’s an end to it. This is what happened. Mr Rasnov Alba Claud, or R. A. C. as he preferred, was… Continue Reading
ATONEMENT • by Y. Y. Browne
The clouds broke just before her car turned on Seppatin Drive. The Association had forbidden artificial light on the outer property, at the gates to the outside world. So, to the boy in the high window, the car seemed like… Continue Reading
HIS GREATEST FEAR • by Charles C Cole
Fifty years ago, Great-uncle Stanton was a successful author of supernatural horror. His heroes were always brash and unafraid when the reader would have been cowering, while the man behind the typewriter was painfully private, writing under an opaque alias… Continue Reading
IT’S TOO COLD • by Sarah Jane Huntington
I don’t belong here, I hate this place. It’s too cold. I can’t find my way around and some days, everything looks the same. This place frightens me. There are things I don’t recognize, belongings, and they don’t belong to… Continue Reading
KINDLING • by M. Jonquil
“Make a note, Edgardo,” the Monsignor said to me on the way back to his summer residence amid the opulent gardens of the palacio above the cathedral. “The shrieks of the heretic as the flame first touches her body are… Continue Reading