Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author K.R. Morrison @KRMorrison2 @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on July 24, 2021 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_01_July2021

Anti-Muse
K.R. Morrison

She’d found the old typewriter at a dingy antique store in a more questionable part of the French Quarter. The proprietor had let it go for a song. It was one of her prized possessions.
Now she was pounding away at the keyboard, finishing up what she thought would be the Steamy Romance of the Century. No computer for her—she preferred the labor of hitting the keys of her old Royal. Fast enough to keep up with her mind, but not so fast that the keys would stick across the typewriter ribbon. That took finesse.
She was nearing the finish line. After “He ran to her outstretched arms,” however, she had to screech to a stop.
No maudlin, everyday finish would suffice. She got up and went to the kitchen for a cup of tea as she thought about what kind of fantastic finish she would give her best-seller.
Upon her return to her desk, she sat down and flexed her fingers, ready to begin again. A perfect ending had occurred to her somewhere between the teakettle and the hallway, and she was eager to get it down on paper before it could take flight.
To her dismay, however, she saw that the keys had somehow gotten tangled up in the ribbon. She was perplexed; surely, she had not whacked the keys as she had gotten up for her refreshment?
As she gently untangled them, a line of type caught her eye. It was not one she had written:
“And he bashed her head in.”
Her heart leaped into her throat. Who had written this? She looked around the room in alarm.
The doors were locked, the windows were not open. If there was someone here causing mischief, where were they?
“Hmmm,” she thought to herself, “maybe I was just not paying attention, and the anti-Muse kicked in. The one that doesn’t want me to finish this.”
She opened her desk drawer and searched for the typewriter eraser she just knew was in there somewhere. As she bent her head to the task, she suddenly heard something that froze her where she sat.
Tap. Tap. Taptaptap.
She looked up, and could only stare as the keys pounded out a line, slowly and deliberately, on their own. No hand to the board, no presence behind her.
The line read: “Her head came down on the keyboard…,” then the keys stopped their sinister clacking.
A smash against the back of her head, and darkness eternal.
They keys tapped out one more line.
“And then she died. The End.”
Fiction © Copyright K.R. Morrison
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.

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

Posted on July 23, 2021 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_04_July2021Rebirth
by Ela Lourenco

Born of the very bowels of the Earth,
Woken from my slumber near the molten core
By the death throes of mankind above
I inched my way upwards towards the skies
Patient, though my travels lasted a millenia
I am one, I am many – a thousand beings
In one mind.
I rose up summoned by a pain so deep
The very Earth echoed its cries
I broke out of the dank soil
To find… nothing
Nothing but a concrete jungle
Abandoned, derelict
Silence blanketed the Earth
Not a creature remained
And now the only life
Is mine…
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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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Suzanne Madron @suzannemadron @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on July 23, 2021 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_03_July2021

In the Off-Season
by Suzanne Madron

She walked along the beach and breathed the salt air. It was quiet now, after the throngs of tourists had fled back to their inland lives. She preferred the abandoned beach and the cold-wind portent of another brutal coastal winter. She liked the hollow sound of her boots kicking over the warped planks of the boardwalk.
The old amusement park was a sleeping skeleton against the sunset, the girders of rollercoaster and ferris wheel dark and silent, along with the screams of fear and joy that usually accompanied the lights. The gaping maw of the funhouse lurked dark behind large teeth and too-wide eyes.
Laura.
She stopped and turned to look back at the funhouse. One of the large hand-painted fingers motioned for her to enter its mouth as the swirling tunnel began to move, though the lights were still dark.
Come inside.
She shook her head but her feet moved her in the direction of the cartoon face until she stood at the steps leading to the spinning entry tunnel. She stared up into the giant eyes, defiant. “I have something to do before I go,” she said. She had to raise her voice over the grinding noise of the machinery moving the tunnel. “The tide is coming in.”
We are hungry.
“I will be back.”
She sighed with relief as she felt the urge to enter the tunnel leave her and she was able to walk away. It was getting harder and harder to fight it, she realized. It would be harder still when the cold frost of winter had settled over the beaches and boardwalks and the buildings lost their lustre.
But not the funhouse. The funhouse was just as pristine as the day it opened in 1900. Her father had run the attraction for decades, feeding tourists into that hungry, laughing mouth until the day he had walked into it to save her from being its next meal in 2016.
Since then, the carnival – the entire town, really – had fallen out of favor with the tourist crowd. Too many missing people and too many drugs. She couldn’t blame the drug users, though. They understood what had been keeping the town alive for 116 years and now the one man who kept the beast in check was gone.
She scanned the empty beach and boardwalk and sighed. She knew the day would come when she would need to walk into that tunnel for the good of the town, but she had been good at finding tourists who would take her place. It was the only way to keep the thing in the funhouse from escaping its bonds and unleashing it on the town.
She removed a letter from her pocket and dropped it into the nearest mailbox on the boardwalk. She hoped her daughter would be able to accept the responsibility outlined in the note and accept that after so many decades, her mother’s time had finally come.
Fiction © Copyright Suzanne Madron
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Suzanne Madron:

For Sale or Rent

The house across the street seems to go on the market every few months, but this time nothing about the sale is normal, including the new owners. No sooner has the for sale sign come down and the neighborhood is thrown into a Lovecraftian nightmare and the only way to find out is to attend the house warming party.

Available on Amazon!

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Alina Măciucă @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on July 22, 2021 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_02_July2021His Only Son
by Alina Măciucă

“I’m doing it for her mother,
 And for our only son.”
They were all starved,
And the god was ravenous, too.
He touched his daughter’s cheek
With his lips, briefly, fleetingly,
Almost in a kiss.

“Rain. Bring Rain.”

Crickets chanted to the beat
Of his heart,
On his way back home.
***
“We could sell some of our grain.
Summer’s stil draughty down south.”
She poured her man a pint of beer;
Their only son ate his home-made
Hamburger
With his elbows on the table.
Their daughter,
Shiny and chubby and happy, peered
From a photo glued to the fridge door. 
***
“I’m doing the right thing,
And she knows it.”
The god never bothered
To pass judgement.
“Rain. Bring Rain.”
He squeezed her hand,
He was almost compassionate.
But the god didn’t even
Wait for the farmer to leave. 
“Our son will get out
Of this place.
Our only son.”
***
“Don’t you miss mum?”
Asked their only son.
“I do.” The farmer kept walking.
“It’s just the two of us now.”
“It is.” The farmer knelt before
A monolith which cast no shadow.
“My son. My only son.”
The god crept out and withered
The farmer as the sun withered
Their wheat.
And then the god, fat as a tick,
Crept into his son, his only son,
And took the road down south.
Fiction © Copyright Alina Măciucă
Image courtesy of  Pixabay.comline_separator2

More about Alina Măciucă:

meblurAlina Măciucă enjoys reading, writing, buying odd trinkets, and taking photos of beautifully decaying buildings. She has formally studied religion and hermeneutics at the University of Bucharest, and really has a thing for the Greco-Roman mysteries and Gnosticism, as well as for Renaissance magic. She lives in Bucharest with her very supportive boyfriend, their two cats, and an ever-expanding vinyl and book collection.

 

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Naching T. Kassa @NachingKassa @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on July 22, 2021 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_01_July2021

The Demon and Miss Tumblety
by Naching T. Kassa
Gladys Tumblety stomped down the stairs to her basement retreat and lit the candle on the table. The flame flickered to life, casting its azure glow over the room and illuminating the collection of bottles on the shelf nearby. 
Gladys poured the contents of each bottle into the white china bowl on the table. She mixed the mélange of blood, hair, and saliva with a wooden spoon, then poured it into the center of the pentagram she’d painted on the floor. 
“Rise, Azazel!” she shrieked.
A curtain of orange flame rose before her. It hung in the air for several seconds before dropping to the floor, revealing a scarlet-colored, horned demon. His left horn seemed to be shorter than the other and the point had been blunted. He crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow.
“Another bad day at work, Gladys?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied, pacing before him. “Mr. Roundley demanded I pay him the rent in advance today.”
“Sounds awful.”
“And, if that weren’t enough, he told me he was raising my rent. I have to pay $10 a month more now. That’s $50 a month!”
“Dreadful. Awful.”
“I really despise that man. I wish he would just drop dead.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Didn’t you hear me, Azazel. I want that man to drop dead.”
“Are you sure this time?”
“As sure as I’ll ever be. Make him drop dead right now!”
Azazel raised a hand in the air.
“Wait!” Gladys cried. “Wait, no don’t kill him. I want him to suffer.”
Azazel yawned. “How?”
“Hot coals on his bottom. I want him to feel as though his buns are burning.”
Azazel raised a hand.
“Wait! No, no hot coals. Something worse. Bad breath. I want his breath to smell like the devil’s own flatulence.”
Azazel stared at her.
“Azazel, what are you waiting for?”
“You. You’re going to stop me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. I’ll raise my hand to snap my fingers and you’ll tell me to wait. You always tell me to wait.”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do. I have been your personal demon for over a year, and you never let me do anything.”
“That’s not true. What about Lucy Faversham? I told you to cover her face with pimples.”
“And before I could do it, you decided it was too mean. You told me to stop, and you sent me away.”
“I did.”
“Yes. Just like you did with Chelsea Bellingham, Clara Worth, Jon Hamilton, and every other person on this earth who’s attracted your ire. You’re using me to sublimate, Gladys, and I’m not going to take it anymore.”
“You mean, I haven’t used you for anything?”
“Well, I’ve been a sounding board, but that’s about it. Let’s face it, Gladys. You just don’t have a mean bone in your body. I’m sorry to say this, but you’re a crushing bore.”
“I’m sorry.”
The demon sighed. “You know, this deal just isn’t working out. I’m going to have to return your soul.”
“Oh, no. Please, don’t do that. I’ll find a use for you. I really will.”
“I’m sorry, Gladys. It’s not you it’s me.”
“What am I going to do? I get so angry. Summoning you is the only way I can alleviate my anger.”
“How about we get something better. Not only will I give you back your soul, I’ll also give you this gift.”
Azazel waved his hand in the air and a typewriter materialized on the table. Gladys clasped her hands together, and admired the pristine keys and unused ribbon.
“For me?”
Azazel waved his hand at the shelf of bottles. They vanished, only to be replaced by paper and fresh typewriter ribbon. 
“Sit at the table, Gladys,” he said.
“Alright.”
Paper, white as bone, appeared in the machine.
“This is not your usual typewriter,” Azazel said. “The paper was formed from the bones of Shakespeare, the ribbon is soaked in the blood of Poe. The keys…well…they’re all my own.” He pointed to his left horn and the blunt point.
“What do I do with it?”
“You are a natural storyteller, Gladys. I think you’ll figure out what to do with it.” He turned to go, then halted. “Just so you know, if you decide you don’t like the story, you must burn the page.”
“Burn it? Why?”
He grinned. “You’ll see. Goodbye, Gladys. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I never see you again.”
He vanished in a puff of smoke.
Gladys straightened her skirt and adjusted the cameo on her high collar. She turned to the typewriter and her fingers found the appropriate keys.
“Mr. Roundley was a wicked fellow,” she typed. “Because of this his bottom was scorched by hot coals and—”
A scream sounded from upstairs forcing Gladys to her feet. 
“My bottom!” The male voice cried. “It’s on fire!”
“Oh dear!” Gladys cried. 
“Miss Tumblety! Miss Tumblety, help! I need water! Water right away!”
Gladys pulled the sheet from the typewriter and held it above the candle flame. She paused.
“Miss Tumblety, please! Water!”
“Just a minute, Mr. Roundley,” she said pulling the sheet away and dashing up the stairs. “Perhaps, we can make a deal.”
Fiction © Copyright Naching T. Kassa
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
 

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More from Naching T. Kassa:

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Arterial Bloom

Lush. Brutal.

Beautiful. Visceral.

Crystal Lake Publishing proudly presents Arterial Bloom, an artful juxtaposition of the magnificence and macabre that exist within mankind. Each tale in this collection is resplendent with beauty, teeth, and heart.

Edited by the Bram Stoker Award-winning writer Mercedes M. Yardley, Arterial Bloom is a literary experience featuring sixteen stories from some of the most compelling dark authors writing today.

With a foreword by HWA Lifetime Achievement Award Recipient Linda D. Addison, you are invited to step inside and let the grim flowers wind themselves comfortably around your bones.

Available on Amazon!

 

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

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

Posted on July 21, 2021 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_04_July2021Waiting For His Return
by A.F. Stewart

She stands at the window every twilight, waiting. The third apartment below the rooftop, in the cornice tower of the building. She is a hollow shell without him, but he never comes. He left her long ago, trapped in her own emotions.
There is no breeze in the room, but it is cold. The fireplace is empty, all forgotten ashes, but she remembers. She stares at the wall behind it, the plaster and brick so carefully put in place. Their wedding picture used to hang on the wall. She turns back to the window and watches the sunset.
In the darkness, she sighs. He never comes. Yet, she feels one day he will, drawn back here by his own actions, by the blood he spilt when he slammed her head into the mantel. She floats across the room, her ghostly form slipping into the wall to rejoin her buried bones.
One day he would return.
One day she’ll have her revenge.
Fiction © Copyright A.F. Stewart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
 

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More from A.F. Stewart:

vn

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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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Elaine Pascale @DocLaney @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on July 21, 2021 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_03_July2021Kamikaze
by Elaine Pascale

“The best part is when you get it to hang upside down. You got to really rock it at the top. Swing it over.” Henry pointed to the top passenger car of the Ferris wheel which was little more than a bucket bolted on by a solitary steel arm. “You can make it twist and turn and roll over in the clouds.”
“We are not going to do that, right?” Jonah hated heights. He did not want to go on any of the rides, but Henry could be very convincing. He had promised Jonah that they could kiss at the top, when no one could see them, and that was all the incentive needed.
“You can see…” Henry’s voice quieted.
Jonah mentally filled in the rest of the sentence. Henry’s dad had died of cancer, possibly contracted  through his work at the factory. From the top of the ride, the factory was in plain view.
“One day, I will figure out how to make that little cab soar. Just fly off from the highest point.”
“And go where?”
Henry looked at Jonah as if they were speaking two different languages. “It’s called Kamikaze for a reason.”
Many kisses and as many years later, Jonah had nearly forgotten about Henry until he had gone to the carnival with a date who promised him more than kisses. Jonah recognized the man running the Ferris wheel, even though his soft lips were now covered with a bushy beard and the cap he wore shadowed his face.
While his date boarded the ride, Jonah stayed behind to talk to Henry.
“You never liked the ride,” Henry smiled. “Guess it says something about your date that I was able to coax you into that cab and he can’t.”
“If I remember, you wanted me to swing it upside down.”
Henry nodded.
“Did you ever figure out how to make it soar?” Jonah flirted.
Henry leaned in, giving Jonah a quick kiss. “We have come full circle now, that big old wheel and me.” He looked up at the top cab. “It’s called Kamikaze for a reason.”
Jonah was puzzled until the following day; news broke about an accident at the factory. The broadcasters said that an unidentified assailant loaded a small metal pod with explosives and managed to ride it into the building during an owner’s meeting. While little was known about the incident, Jonah understood it all.
Fiction © Copyright Elaine Pascale
Image courtesy of Pixaby.com

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More from Elaine Pascale:

The Blood Lights

They victimize all…

Jezzie Mitchell is in anguish; with her brother’s murder still on her mind, she’s noticed strange behavior among the girls in the residential treatment center where she works. Is there a connection between the contagion on Cape Cod and the deadly Bahamas vacation that changed her life?

Jezzie reaches out to former lover Lou Collins, a scholar who has chased proof of the lights for decades. Will he be able to solve the mystery of the lights in time?

Intensely competitive, reporter Bridgette Collins knows the lights are a way to secure fame in her career. And while it’ll put the final nail into the coffin of her ex-husband’s career, she vows to know the secrets of the lights. Even if it means unleashing a world-wide epidemic…

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Mary Ann Peden-Coviello @MAPedenCoviello @darc_nina #LoH

Posted on July 20, 2021 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_04_July2021

Fin de Siècle
by Mary Ann Peden-Coviello

The speaker stood, gripping the podium, and looked out into the room. The ballroom of the Hôtel des Damnés, the Hotel of the Damned, seemed simultaneously impossibly small and stuffy and infinitely large and echoing. The speaker himself was the ultimate bureaucrat, dark grey hair conservatively styled, medium grey suit, muted tie; the only sign that he might not be your run-of-the-mile human bureaucrat was the brilliant, patent-leather shine on his cloven hooves. 
The speaker tapped the microphone. “If I might have your attention. For those who might not know me, I am Grbsyxniz, the new Administrator of the Department of Centenary Oblations. The former Administration in its entirety has been recalled to Headquarters, as I’m sure you are all aware.” A shudder of horror ran through the assembly. “No one in attendance wishes the same fate to befall us. The previous Administration failed miserably with their Y2K idea, and the normal workings of the universe have gone completely awry ever since. Wars, plagues, political upheavals, climate disruptions. But His Eternal Wrathfulness has been unable to enjoy any of the fruits of the resultant human despair.” Grbsyxniz glared at his audience. “This has made conditions at Headquarters most unpleasant. You and I are here to ensure that the Oblation is reinstituted. When the Oblation is restored, the order of the universe will be as well.”
A murmur of assent worked its way through the crowd of demonic bureaucrats.
“You will spread throughout the city. Your targets are only those humans who can perceive our hotel. To most human eyes, this hotel is a dilapidated diner. To those who are primed for sacrifice, the hotel looks as if it is an intriguing building from the previous century – whatever that century might be. It will be the fin of their siècle, shall we say?” Grbsyxniz waited for laughter. When he didn’t get it, he snarled. “That was a joke.” 
The audience promptly broke into giggles, snorts, snickers, howls of sycophantic glee. 
“Now go forth and find those who are suited. Remember, only those who, when you return with them to this hotel, see the building are spiritually suited. If they see an all-night diner, let them go, no matter how tasty they might seem to be.”
The demons shuffled out of the ballroom, shifting as they went from drab, bureaucratic grey and beige to glittering, sexually enticing creatures of the night, ready to enthrall whatever humans were able to perceive the Hôtel des Damnés rather than the Waffles 4 U.
Fiction © Copyright Mary Ann Peden-Coviello
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Mary Ann Peden-Coviello:

maryannpedencoviello_frightmareFright Mare-Women Write Horror
Short Story: One Hour Before the Dark

Women write horror and have written it since before Mary Shelley wrote FRANKENSTEIN. This anthology is to highlight the fact women write great horror and to kill the fallacy that they aren’t in some way up to standard. They are. Read here stories by Elizabeth Massie, Nina Kiriki Hoffman, Lucy Taylor, and a plethora of other great writers as they work on your nerves, get inside your head, and bang out some of the scariest tales written today. I’m proud to present these women for your consideration, as Rod Serling might say, as I ask you to step into FRIGHT MARE. Lock the door and windows, put on a light, and remember, it’s not real. It’s not real. Midnight awaits, monsters scheme to take you away, the strange and weird wait in the shadows, but it’s not real. Is it?

Edited by Billie Sue Mosiman, the author who brought you the SINISTER-TALES OF DREAD collections and her latest suspense novel, THE GREY MATTER.

Available on Amazon!

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

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

Posted on July 20, 2021 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Image_01_July2021

What If We Could Escape Ourself
by Melissa R. Mendelson

I could feel her stirring.  She was waking up, trying to push the layers away.  She did a great job wrapping herself up, and I did not intend to help her.  I drank half a bottle of wine just to quiet her, but she wanted out.  And my skin crawled as she struggled and screamed.
I turned my attention to the typewriter nearby.  My hands shook, but that was because of her.  But I was a lot stronger than she was.  My fingers met the keys, and I could feel her grip loosen.  I typed, trying to think of what to write, and she seized that moment to take control.  But then I thought of the girl in the coffee shop.  Blue hair.  Ripped jeans.  Dual sunglasses.  She had a story, one that I could walk through.  Again, her grip loosened, and I typed faster.
I thought of the girl, her character.  Who was she?  Who did she want to be?  I could hear her screaming in the back of my mind, slamming her hands hard against the invisible wall.  I merely smiled.  I felt the layers pull away, but not to let her out.  They wrapped around her instead, and the emotions pierced through her.  They ran through me, and I shivered in response.  I gasped as she fell away, but she surprised me, grabbing hold of one layer, using it as a lifeline.  She was strong, but I was stronger.
A hollow scream remained.  I fell back into my seat, soaked.  My fingers lifted up from the keys, and I looked at them as if I was seeing these hands for the first time.  My body felt new, light, and I moved away from the typewriter.  I grabbed the bottle of wine nearby and walked past a wall mirror.  I downed the bottle but then stopped.  I looked at my reflection and smiled, and the girl with blue hair, ripped jeans, and dual sunglasses smiled back at me.
Fiction © Copyright Melissa R. Mendelson
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
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More from Melissa R. Mendelson:

nmkmmName’s Keeper

I got a one-way ticket out of hell. All I need to do is drive across country with a body in the trunk and run miscellaneous errands, but a lot of those errands come with a heavy price. And if I lose the body in the trunk, then I have to go back, and I’ll be damned if I return down there. I will fight to stay here, even if there is no rest for those wicked.

Available on Amazon!

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Elizabeth H. Smith @bethsmithwrites @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on July 1, 2021 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Seed of Fruition
by Elizabeth H. Smith

Unnoticed and unseen, the small fruit flourished. Its seed had been planted from another place, somewhere alien to its new environment. With each night it grew; and each day, it lived in fear of the sounds created by life around it. The invasive vegetation could hear the thump of machines over the fragile beat of tiny hearts nesting within. But untouched it remained, and nearly every bulb’s strength held to the end. From the weight pulling on its stalks, it knew the time would be soon. The fruit would fully mature, as would the many ravenous fetal beings waiting inside.
Fiction © Copyright Elizabeth H. Smith
Image courtesy of Christina Sng
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More About Elizabeth H. Smith:
Elizabeth H. Smith is a storyteller who writes while trying to keep her cat, Luna off the keyboard. The musical group, Rasputina is her muse. She was born in the state of New York and would never feel at home anywhere else.

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Through Clouded Eyes: A Zombie’s Point of View

Through Clouded Eyes: A Zombie’s Point of View: a collection of twelve stories told from the Zombie’s perspective.

They’re shambling toward you, feet dragging on the broken roadway. Arms outstretched, faces slack, they move as if they’re tracking your scent on the wind. You want to run, but you know there’s nowhere to hide.

Aware of their insatiable hunger, fear paralyzes you. These things were once human, people someone loved. Is there anything left inside them – some sliver of humanity that may save you from this nightmare? Your mind doesn’t want to accept the inevitable, a single thought consumes you: what are they thinking?

With your chance of escape dwindling, you snap out of it and run like hell knowing there is little to no hope; fate is coming for you. Soon you will see what they see Through Clouded Eyes…

Featuring stories from Maynard Blackoak, Calvin Demmer, Paul M. Feeney, Stacy Fileccia, Trevor Firetog, DH Hanni, Shannon Lawrence, Josh MacLeod, Zachary O’Shea, Neal Privett, Mark Steinwachs, and Alex Woolf

Available on Amazon!

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