The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
11:17 p.m. That’s when it happened…the killing. They took the children right away because, from past experience, they cried the loudest. Springing the surprise on them first shortened their horror and their lives. The adults…well, their choices are what brought everyone to this place. They deserved what they got. The only reason the little ones died too was so they couldn’t grow into adults seeking revenge. It was a sad business but one which must be done to preserve the rest of humanity.
Kendall snorted at that. We are throwing away our humanity to save humanity. What a crock of shit! Maybe we deserve extinction.
The dying room was painted a sickly yellow, the color of pus. Once everyone was herded inside, one of Kendall’s companions shoved a table in front of the door in case any of them tried to run. The locks broke years ago and no one cared about replacing them.
Two more of his men lined the children up against the far wall. Immediately the adults commenced to shouting and weeping. Their pleas were ignored as usual. A young scruffy lad snarled and bit his captor hard on the forearm, instantly drawing blood. The man yelped and backhanded the kid.
Kendall did his best to hide his disgust. He nervously fingered the trigger of his SRC semi-automatic pistol. This has to stop. The more he thought about what was to come, the more his gut twisted and sent bile climbing up his throat.
In an instant decision, he turned his weapon on his men. The first two went down, sending the children into screaming fits and the adults in to shouts urging him on. The third died but not before he sent his own bullet flying through the air. It hit Kendall in the chest.
He fell to his knees, taking aim at the last of his companions. The man was unable to fire his own weapon because the nearest captive took advantage of the chaos to launch himself, knocking the gun away. Kendall squeezed the trigger and then fell face down on the cement floor. His lips parted, fingers released the weapon, and his eyes closed for the last time. Maybe we deserve extinction.
Fiction © Copyright Kim Richards
Image courtesy of Pixabay.
Issue #40 of The Sirens Call – As Summer Leaves, Autumn Falls
Stories of disaster influenced by horrific intent.
Whether it be Mother Nature’s wrath or a devilish ghoul, a sprite most wicked or a stumbling fool, tell us a tale of disaster that happens as summer ends and autumn begins.
We are looking for stories, flash fiction and poetry of horrific happenings that take place in the summer months that lead into fall. As long as the piece is primarily horror/dark fiction, we’d love to see it!
Your piece can be creepy, sullen, emotive, freaky, elegant, bizarre, have a dark-humor edge to it, or simply be flat out scary as hell!
REPRINTS ARE WELCOME
Submission Deadline: August 10, 2018
Circulation: Approximately 35,000
Full page/single book cover ads for individual authors are available at $10 per ad. Please contact Nina@SirensCallPublications.com for advertising information.
All short story, flash, and poem submissions MUST be submitted to: Submissions@SirensCallPublications.com for consideration.
Visit our web site for more details: SirensCallPub.com