Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Ela Lourenco @ElaLourenco @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Vacuum 
by Ela Lourenco

The temple lanterns flame red as the third moon ascends into the twilight, the only colour allowed across this now barren grey land. My home. Once alive with colour and life is now a desolate skeleton of what once was. I stand guard as I have done for so long that I barely remember what my purpose is- what I protect.

They came from above without warning, these creatures fate foretold. And in the blink of an eye consumed the souls of all that thrived here once. All that is, except for me. Harbingers of punishment, they devoured the very spirit of my home. Family, friends… the very last blade of grass… all turned to ash.

What I did to deserve the torment of remaining I do not know. Tortured by solitude, plagued with the silent screams of my world haunting my every waking hour. There is no respite, no relief. I grow no older, nor does sickness bless me. Cursed in the eternal prison that is my own body – betrayed by immortality I stand guard. Powerless to save my home – impotent in my survival…

Fiction © Copyright Ela Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.
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More from Ela Lourenco:

awakeningDragon Born: Book Three
Awakening

The Royal tournament, the Karnac, is fully underway. But there is deception and betrayal at every turn. Unseen dark forces are at play, both within the school grounds and out with. Even the Gods are unable to help when a new threat looms over them all.The very existence of Azmantium depends on Lara fully becoming the Child of Fire and casting aside the Shadows lurking in every corner of her beloved planet.Can she overcome the challenges that await? Will the Shadows cover the world in darkness? Only Lara and her friends can change the fate of Azmantium.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Sheikha A. @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Loom
by Sheikha A.

Dear Phaedra,
.
Remember that island
where we sent the slaves –
our special feast – hidden
.
from Hades; it has bloomed
into an orchard of light – like birth –
breaking out of our cage of lies –
.
I sent her there too, Minthe,
smelling like a sweet leaf
under a soothing sun –
.
she rose like torn fibres –
crushed under my heel –
brusque and bold in my face
.
like her scent could compete
with the floral of my hair;
I should have thrown copper
.
into the soil that nursed her.
The island’s wind has carried
a baby’s whimper to my cradle;
.
one of the slaves has rebelled.
Someone has eaten Minthe
to conceive. Shadows I cast
.
are fast being consumed
by Apollo’s army; my dark
is drowning – these hues
.
pinning the sky pine for Kore –
my eyes are stones of Hades’
love; they cannot revert
.
to glinting flesh of pomegranates –
we must end their procreation:
all things new and fresh –
.
.
.
Dear Persephone,
.
On your chariot of ash and flame,
I found him – slave – bearing torch
on his chest. His lover set herself
.
on fire from fear or a mad love
she claimed would reunite them
in heaven. The baby melted
.
faster than their bones stubborn
to surrender to the lash of fire’s
whip. I regretted to see the baby die
.
for I have longed for new-born
meat since you took my teeth
and replaced them with canines –
.
your favour to me – my weapon
against accusers of my character.
Their bones were juicy – fruits
.
they ate in captivity; it enrages me
to watch their ingratitude for we fed
their bodies kingly before we dined.
.
.
.
Fiction © Copyright Sheikha A.
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.

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More from author Sheikha A.:

Screen Shot 2019-12-17 at 10.57.17 AM.pngNyctophiliac Confessions:
Poems by Sheikha A. and Suvojit Banerjee

“The night is cold enough to inspire poetry,” says Sheikha A. in her poem, “Reading My Bones.” This is the basis of Nyctophiliac Confessions – poems that are introspective and luminal, poems that require a certain amount of silence and space to be fully formed and appreciated. Reading these poems, I imagined that they were the kind of poems that assert themselves unbidden during a bout of insomnia. (A nyctophiliac being someone who loves the night or loves darkness).

Nyctophiliac Confessions is the 17th installment of Praxis’ chapbook series and contains twenty-six poems written by two poets, Sheikha A. and Suvojit Banerjee, interspersed with abstract paintings by Robert Rhodes.

Available Here!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kathleen McCluskey @KathleenMcClus4 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Louis  
by Kathleen McCluskey

Louis was a man of means, he never wanted for anything in his life. A spoiled, wealthy man, he was accustomed to getting his way. He was always dressed perfectly and in the most current fashions yet his mind was consistently in a state of perpetual pandemonium. His appearance put people at ease and made them think he was a debonair, considerate gentlemen. But inside he was in a state of constant conflict; forever stuck in a limbo of chaotic neutral. His urges only grew as he aged. The older he became, his needs matured into something diabolical. The evil that lurked inside of him was concealed with an amiable smile. His depravity pushed his deranged impulses, fueling his desires to go farther; onto bigger and grander things…women.

There seemed to be an endless parade of victims at his fingertips. The local high-end eateries and bars were his hunting grounds. Some women are drawn to power, others to money, Marie was one that was drawn to darkness. When she saw Louis, she knew immediately that his evil blackness was powerful. It was drawing her in. She was beautiful and from a wealthy, well known family. Louis went over to her the instant that he saw her. In his mind he thought that a woman of her caliber in his dungeon would be the prize he was always searching for. After having dinner and some cocktails Louis invited Marie back to his palace for a nightcap.

Once inside his opulent mansion, Marie found herself drifting in and out of consciousness. The last drink that Louis had given her was laced with sleeping powder. Marie awoke in Louis’ “special room”. Her hands had been tied in front of her and her legs were bound at the ankles. She turned her head and saw her clothes folded neatly on a chair. Marie blinked a few times to get her eyes to focus and saw Louis standing over her. His maniacal smile ran a shiver down Marie’s spine. She rolled away from him and off the bed. She was laying on the floor trying to stand when Louis grabbed her by the back of her head. Marie let out a small yelp. As she began to have a seizure, she closed her eyes and began to chant. Her chanting became so loud that it vibrated the chains that hung from the ceiling. Louis was confused and very angry that a mere woman was trying to confront him. Her eyes rolled over white and she let out a guttural moan. Her moaning quickly turned into shrill laughter. Louis was thrown across the room by an unseen force. Marie turned toward Louis, she pulled her hands apart as the binding around them disintegrated. “We have been watching you, Louis. We are unimpressed by your sport with women. I have been sent by the coven to seek vengeance for my sisters.” She raised her hand and with a flick of her wrist Louis’ crotch caught fire. He screamed in a pitch that no earthly man should make. She threw her head back and cackled. With a flick of her wrist again he burst into flames. The coven of witches had their prize.

Fiction © Copyright Kathleen McCluskey
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Kathleen McCluskey:

The Long Fall: Book 1: The Inception of Horror

Lucifer always cunning and intelligent challenges father to a battle of wits. Being the angel of light he casts a judgemental eye upon mankind. He begins a war with his fellow archangels and God. Michael, along with his siblings defend their home and mankind from their deranged brother. Broad swords and hand to hand combat drench heaven in blood. The four apocalyptic steeds are released, each having their own destructive power. Betrayal and lust are at biblical levels. Understand the very creation of evil and the consequenses that transpire in the first of THE LONG FALL series.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Nina D’Arcangela @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Over the Moon
by Nina D’Arcangela

This is my home, or rather the place I find myself confined. The light never dims, the moon a mockery of what I’ll never gaze upon again. The man in it no friend to me. He watches with a kink of his brow, not to assure my safety, but to disallow the attempt least I jump, and I have. He was not kind in his recovery.

I made it across the bridge once. The scroll that sings sung the praises of what lay beyond, so I forced the will to crawl only to find blinding disappointment. Eyes seared from their sockets, it was an agonizing retreat – all the while his voice lulled, jump back over the moon.

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More from Nina D’Arcangela:

Mental Ward: EXPERIMENTS

A dank basement, shadow filled hallways, the deep echo of a metal latch being thrown while faint screams are heard… These are the things you might experience in a place where the unspeakable happens, where conscientious action and moral turpitude turn a blind eye in the interest of advancing one’s own personal pursuits in the most deranged and unjustifiable manner. The type of place where power corrupts, and depravity runs rampant among those imbued with it. A place where the unfortunate are abandoned to the devices of those who convince themselves their actions are in the best interest of science.

Mental Ward: Experiments is a collection of ten short stories that demonstrate the worst of humanity’s ambition in the interest of ‘civilized’ advancement. Step into a world where sanity is left behind, and horror is what the doctor ordered!

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Alyson Faye @AlysonFaye2 @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


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Love, Death and Gaming
by Alyson Faye

The Eternal Wars had laid the once powerful kingdom to waste – only the Archway of the Gods was left standing, along with its solo Guardian. Karia stood motionless, a ballet dancer of death, waiting to hear the sound of her master’s voice or feel the buzz in her central core, which presaged danger coming; a predator from the other side – or maybe a weary traveller wanting to recharge at one of the holy Archways. She never knew which it would be – a fight to the death or a friend to feast with. This was her life now – once she had been more than this, so much more, but she’d lost parts of her very being along the way. Vital parts, she could never retrieve.

She sensed her inner being fire up, cobalt blue sparks flying around her; she straightened, listening . . . waiting . . . preparing . . .

The Archways lit up with blazing red lights, dragons’ eyes, as she thought of them, fuelled by the pregnant moon hanging above her.

The dead earth shook, and the air began to ripple. Something or someone was coming through. She grasped the long sword in her hand.

“Mikey, do you wanna come off that goddam game of yours and come help me? Like now!”

The voice’s son hit ‘pause’ and whispered expletives of his own into his headset. Karia, who he loved beyond all reason, waited freeze-framed by the lower arches for his next instruction.

Wouldn’t it be great if all girls were like Karia, Blessed Daughter of the House of Orion.

“MIK-EY” His mother’s voice rose to an eldritch shriek.

Karia turned her head, for the first time without him manipulating the keys, and mouthed at Mikey. In his headphones he heard a silvery voice whispering, ‘Kill her, kill the bitch.’

Mikey, in shock, ripped off his headphones and stared at Karia’s blank, white-painted face with the familiar ice blue eyes. He saw a pearl of a tear trembling on her lower lid.

‘Kill her,’ the pink lips mouthed, and the screen rippled with her breath.

Mikey stroked the screen and his hand slid through the membrane, touching his love’s face. Her skin was soft, so gorgeously smooth. She took his hand and kissed it with those perfect pink lips. His whole being vibrated.

‘Kill her,’ his future consort whispered. ‘You are the Master. You are so strong. I believe in you.’

“Mikey, I’m cutting off the wi-fi in 10 – 9 – 8 -7 . . .”

Mikey, galvanised, grabbed Karia by the and and pulled her from the screen onto his lap, just before his mother got to ‘1’ and the array of computer consoles went dark. Karia sat cuddled up to him; she weighed hardly anything, so petite, her long dark hair flowing to the floor. She pressed the silver dagger she wore at her belt into Mikey’s sweaty hands.

‘We can be together . . .’

Mikey stood up and un-barricaded his bedroom door, stepping out onto the landing, piled high with his gear, to face his mother – his nemesis – red cheeked, puffing, frizzy hair awry, nothing like his beloved Karia.

“Mother, I have something to tell you,” he said, calm and sounding mature beyond his seventeen years. “You are not my family.”

The sliver dagger flashed once, Mikey thrust down deep into his mother’s chest. She crumpled, with a slight ‘ooff’ of escaping air and lay twitching at his feet.

“Victory is mine,” her only beloved son whispered as he turned back to his bedroom, anticipating the reunion with his beloved.

Karia was nowhere to be seen, the single bed and armchair were empty.

The window was wide open, a lock of dark hair lay on the sill. And a note.

‘Thank you for releasing me. I’ve been trapped for millennia . . . waiting, for someone like you, Mikey. Someone who loved me so much they’d kill to set me free. Goodbye.’

Fiction © Copyright Alyson Faye
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Alyson Faye:

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The Lost Girl & Spindleshanks

The Lost Girl
A nailed-up door. An inheritance which comes with a ghost. A missing girl. A fifty-year-old mystery. Parapsychologist Berkley Osgood is hired to investigate. What he uncovers reveals secrets the living want to hide and the dead will never forgive.

Spindleshanks
Adam is having nightmares about a skeletal shadow figure, who he calls Spindleshanks. Soon his whole class are sharing the same nightmare. Adam’s dad, Rob, knows that Spindleshanks can’t be real. But is he? One terrible night Rob has to face his son’s nightmare creature and fight for his son’s life. What would you sacrifice to have your child back safe?

“A decent two-for-one. Alyson Faye brings the engaging and eerie in equal measure.” CC Adams – horror / dark fiction author

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author A.F. Stewart @scribe77 @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Paradise 
by A.F. Stewart

Serenity. A small hidden lagoon, far past the maddening world. Green and lush, a beckoning oasis of quiet calm. The chance of a new life heralded by their leader. He preached salvation from disintegrating society, an escape from the slow, inevitable death awaiting them.

“We must flee this life. I will offer you escape. Listen to my words and live.”

They arrived in the morning hours, broken and desperate, yet in the landscape they found hope and peace. Yet even in the promised utopia, darkness thrives.

The creature spoke to him in the sweet night air, as the balmy wind blew the scent of the water and the heady floral perfumes. Spoke in whispers of blood and power, of ancient rites and a world lost to the evolution of civilization. He never questioned the veracity, only revelled in the spinning undercurrent of control it dangled.

Soon promises become lies, followers become sacrifices.

It began with the altar on the riverbank; a stone monument as thanks, he claimed. Then the day the sun rose above the rocky arch and he lured the children there to pray. A smashing rock, a slashing knife, spraying blood and the stones soaked in red, seeping slowly into the water. Three betrayed of innocence to feed the creature.

“Take these offerings and rise! Give me my reward!”

Only then did he understand his mistake.

She rose from the depths of time and dimension, tentacles grasping, teeth gnashing, hungry for more. He was the first to be eaten, and then the screams of his followers, shredded and dismembered until the beast had her fill of flesh and blood.

 

 
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More from A.F. Stewart:

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Visions and Nightmares

Tragedy spares no one… and takes no prisoners.
In the twilight shadows, secrets are revealed past the whispers of madness.

Wander into the realm of the old gods with Elenora, where humanity and marriage are a prison.
Step through a looking glass of dark horrors with an Alice you never knew.
Join with Zenna to seek the truth as her death by magic grows closer.
Journey with Olivia as she crosses paths with a monster of the forest and runs for her life.
Watch Isobel summon the faerie to solve her problem of an unwanted husband.
Shiver as Doctor Killbride experiments with corpses to create life from death.
All that and more await within the pages.

Ten stories. Ten women.
Who will survive? Who will fall? And who will succumb to their inner evil?
Find out in Visions and Nightmares.

Warning: This book contains disturbing scenes that may be upsetting to some readers.

Available on Amazon!

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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Marge Simon @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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The Vampire Ball 
by Marge Simon

Tonight, a celebration such as Machiavelli himself might have planned, with elite victims of high social standing. Dashing and dapper, the Monsignor descends the stairs, flourishing a polished cane. The shine on his shoes would put the moon to shame. Midway, he readjusts his ascot, sets the brim of his top hat at a jaunty angle. Maurice, his faithful Grenville, bows low to present his Master’s chosen escort, Ramona of the raven locks. She wears a low-cut dress to match his tie. How the lady trembles, half-paralyzed with fear, her long, pale neck at his command! Once, a woman of her class would have scorned his presence, before he joined the ranks of the Undead. He may well take his vengeance now, for Ramona knows her lover hangs by his ankles in the Pit of the Pendulum below stairs. Distressed, she begs him for mercy, but he flashes her a smile, “Please me, and your man may be spared.”  

Among their many talents, it is no secret that vampires know how to party. Locked in waltz position, they begin to dance with tiny nips, like kisses on their partner’s necks. Much like a punch bowl, they take in more as the night progresses. Graceful movements continue to the music, orchestrated with attention to the draining of the blood.  Come dawn, they leave in drunken disarray –all but Monsignor. A soft rain has begun falling when his coach returns. He carries fair Ramona in his arms. The Pendulum has long been done; chunks of scattered skin and bone, bloody pools on the basement floor. Holding her head to witness this, he drains her dry. Typically, he’s saved the best for last.

 

Fiction © Copyright Marge Simon
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Marge Simon:

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The Demeter Diaries
by Marge Simon and‎ Bryan D. Dietrich

‘The Demeter Diaries’ is a record of love and longing and the inevitable horror that arises between the minds of Mina Harker and Vlad Dracula as they court one another in waking dreams. The dialogue, written in both poetry and prose, imagines a psychic connection that develops between the two even before Dracula arrives in England. As Dracula makes his way from Transylvania to Whitby on the doomed ship Demeter, the two would-be lovers transmit their thoughts across the waves and lands that separate them, alternately wooing and terrifying one another with the idea of love eternal and all the dark delicacies necessary to ensure it. Front cover art by Wendy Saber Core, interior illustrations by Luke Spooner.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Melissa R. Mendelson @melissmendelson @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Even Heaven’s Broken
by Melissa R. Mendelson

The red, velvet sheets cradled her body as she tried to sleep.  The sky was an odd shade of white, and the half moon looked angry.  A creature resembling a fairy gazed down at her.  There was nothing in her eyes, and a thunderous boom filled the distance.

Kaley sat up in bed, and her body moaned to return to the heaven that it was in.  But she forced herself out, and the floor beneath her feet was ice cold.  Where were her shoes, or even her socks?  The clothes that she wore felt damp, but she didn’t remember dreaming.  The sky outside was the same, but the moon did not appear angry.  No fairy creature.  Maybe, she dreamt that, and she moved toward the bathroom.

Washing her hands in the sink, the water was ice cold.  Maybe, the heat was out, and her face lifted to look into the mirror.  The glass was fogged over, and she tried to wipe it away.  The fog refused to fade, and she could barely see herself in the reflection.  But when she glanced down at her clothes, they were stained red.

“What?  What is this?”  She tried to wash the blood out, but it refused, turning the sink and the water red.  “Why am I bleeding,” but she wasn’t.  This was someone else’s blood.

Stepping back into the bedroom, she no longer recognized it.  The red, velvet sheets were still there, but the bed was too large for her.  Clothes resting over a chair were meant for a man not her, and his shoes were way too big.  Where was this person, and why did she wake up in his room?

“Hello?”  She walked out into the hallway, and that funny shade of white followed her.  “Hello?  Are you here,” but he didn’t answer her.

She tried to recall the past day, even hours before she woke up here, but she could not remember.  She felt safe here, and she wanted to return to bed.  So, what if she was in someone else’s room?  Maybe, they didn’t mind.  Maybe, they weren’t even here, but as she walked into the kitchen, she saw a bare of pale feet resting against the tiled floor.

His faze was frozen in fear, but it was the handprints around his neck that made her blood run cold.  They were her handprints.  She killed him, but why would she do such a thing?  She didn’t even know him, but she wanted to be here.  She felt safe here, and in the distance, she heard sounds echoing like a riot.  Maybe, she ran here for safety, but something deep inside told her different.

She hurried outside to look around, but as the door opened, she nearly fell.  There was no bottom.  Just an endless, white sky.  The moon was gone.  Was the fairy her guardian or keeper?  She sensed it nearby, then behind her, and slowly turned around when a click caught her ear.  A shotgun aimed and ready, followed by a loud boom.

The red, velvet sheets cradled her body as she tried to sleep.  The sky was an odd shade of white, and the half moon looked angry.  A creature resembling a fairy gazed down at her.  There was nothing in her eyes, but a small smile rested on her lips.  And in the distance was a thunderous boom.

Fiction © Copyright Melissa R. Mendelson
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
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About Author Melissa R. Mendelson:

Melissa R. Mendelson is a Horror, Science-Fiction, and Dystopian Author. Her short stories have been published by Sirens Call Publications, Dark Helix Press, and Transmundane Press. She also has a variety of short stories and poetry available on Medium.

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Terrie Leigh Relf @TLRelf @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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The Truth Is Revealed in Blood 
by Terrie Leigh Relf

We were gathered on Soola, home to the Sisterhood of the Blood Moon. This night, we would hold a special Seeing, and it was my sacred duty to stand sentry at the temple gates to ensure that only  members of the Sisterhood could pass through. It was also my sacred duty to ensure that none would leave. Thousands of our years had passed since we would determine the fate of one of our own with The Ritual of Blood. Had she been the one behind the disembodiment of a Reverend Mother?

tears of blood

flow from her eyes

balance restored

 

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More from author Terrie Leigh Relf:

The Sisterhood of the Blood Moon

For thousands of Earth years, the Transgalactic Consortium has had a quiet interest in this planet and its inhabitants, the Haurans. While the Sisterhood of the Blood Moon works together with the Consortium and Haurans to maintain balance in the universe, the Blood Moon is fast approaching. The power of this moon reveals untold secrets . . . including a sacred covenant with the Mora Spiders. There is an ancient pact that needs to be honored—but at what cost and for whose purpose? The world may come to an end. But will there be a chance for a new beginning?

Available for purchase from the Alban Lake Store!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Angela Yuriko Smith @AngelaYSmith @darc_nina #LoH

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The High Cost of Wanderlust
by Angela Yuriko Smith

My sinking ship slips into sunset waters 

as my daughters and sons snuggle in beds 

not knowing they are my final breath away 

from being all alone in this world. 

Orphans, children in mourning 

by tomorrow morning when the news 

slips down the just-awake streets 

the freaks and a few drunks still stumbling

and bumbling past the messenger

the professional bringer of bad news

refusing to spare a dime, a smile, the time

and my progenity now penniless

paying the cost of my wanderlust

my ill-placed trust that placed

me on a ship full of false promises

lost causes and leaks.

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More from Angela Yuriko Smith:

Angela Yuriko Smith is an American poet, author and co-publisher of Space and Time magazine, a publication that has been printing speculative fiction, art and poetry since 1966. Together we build a poem as a community each month. Visit “Exquisite Corpse” at SpaceandTime.net to submit.

Catch up with Angela here!

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