Horror
-
Slice
156 words | Horror | CONTENT WARNING “Put that damn thing down. Are you a fucking girl?” -slice- “Puking bleeding hearts just want to take away what’s yours.” -slice- “But, you can only have so much compassion for those people. Eventually, they’re just trying to get one up on you.” -slice- “You gonna suck dick, boy? You… Read more
-
Mask
245 words | Flash Fiction | Horror Sirens wailed in the distance, coming closer. “What’s wrong with you?” I demanded. He stood there, glaring at me. “This is for your own good.” “My own good? What the fuck are you talking about?” He shrugged. “I mean, it’s down to genetics and evolution, isn’t it? Your… Read more
-
The Fastest Human Alive
393 words | Flash Fiction | Horror | Satire Tom: Good afternoon, Chuck! Chuck: Hi, Tom! It’s great to be here in America First Arena for the 2040 Enhanced Games. A huge thanks to the President and First Lady for their continued support of this amazing event and for the use of the stadium. I… Read more
-
The Kiss
399 words | Flash Fiction | Horror/Folk Horror The baby’s cry wakes me in the night. Not the I’m hungry, feed me, feed me, wails. These are different— high-pitched, almost frantic, and edged with something that might have been fear. Skrrrtch. Skkkkreeee. Skkkrrrr. (What’s that noise?) Heart pounding, mouth dry, bare feet slapping bare wood, I… Read more
-
The Well
407 words | Horror | Flash Fiction “Don’t go down there, Bran!” Willa cried. “I’m the man of the house now, Ma said.” Bran shot back. Willa grabbed his arm, trying with all her strength to pull her brother back. If he went there, he’d be lost, like the rest of them. “The lights will… Read more
-
The Lib
499 Words | Horror | Satire Chad hit the pause button on KILL ALL THE LIBS XIV. He could have sworn he’d heard something. Popping one ear cup off, he listened, but all he heard was the shhhh of the air purifier and the zzzt-glug of the water alkalizer. The tinny drone of the Bill O’Reilly and Sean Hannity… Read more
-
Chapter 4 | le plat principal
Cuisse de Nymphe Émue, deglazed and reduced, served in white sauce with wild rice pilaf, paired with petits pois à la Française. It was autumn 1848. After my pa’s death, things changed. Without his income, we were forced to sell off our land a piece at a time. Even so, it was not enough. I… Read more
-
Chapter 3 | le poisson
Local whitefish poached in its own juices, served with pommes vapeur, braised fennel, and beurre blanc. I would not see much of Alys Lawless again until the spring of 1842. I was twelve, and my pa figured the time had come to begin my studies in earnest. Of course, those lessons mostly revolved around what… Read more
-
Chapter 2 | l’entree
Lemon-poppy cake, accompanied by two fingers of gin. The first time I saw Alys Lawless was the summer of 1838, and with the drought, it seemed that the town of Burnt Creek might live up to its name. I remember the grass, higher than my head at eight years old, sere and bowed almost double… Read more
-
Chapter 1 | l’aperitif
Barrel-aged whiskey, served at room temperature. The sky darkened with the shadow of wings, and the raucous caws of hundreds of crows cracked the afternoon stillness. “Whoa there, Noah!” John MacClellan tugged the reins. Noah’s ears flicked back in annoyance, but the donkey slowed to a stop. The wagon he pulled creaked to a halt… Read more