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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

003_DEC_LOHWounded
by Elaine Pascale

Lift the unwounded knee. Push it forward. Drag the other leg to meet it… 
This was how I talked my way through the biting snow, instructing myself to crawl with the half of my body that still worked. 
I was leaving a crimson trail. It would be easy for the Winter Witch to find me. I knew she was simply toying with me. I was a mouse trapped between her cat-like claws. 
Lift the unwounded knee. Push it forward. Drag the other… 
The light from the chapel window has shifted from impossibly far away to within reach. It is my only hope. 
Lift the unwounded knee. Push it forward. Drag… 
Hot air blows over me. It is painful on my frozen skin. The Winter Witch is playing with me: a simple mouse who has already tasted her razor-sharp claws.
The chapel is closer. It smells like lavender and honeysuckle. My mouth waters just as if I were a starving child stumbling upon a gingerbread cottage in the woods.
Lift the unwounded knee. Push it….
Without looking, I know the ice has trapped some of my skin. I am leaving it behind; I want to leave it all behind. I have survived the receiving end of the Winter Witch’s talons. I can survive this last mile, last yard, last foot of unforgiving snow.
The light is a beacon in more ways than one. It sings of safety and of a balm for my wounds. I believe I know what sanctuary will taste like. 
Lift the unwounded knee…
A stabbing shriek ruptures my ears. The Winter Witch is having fun, forcing her auditory fingers into my raw and bleeding orifices. Somehow, I manage to focus on the light. 
Lift the…
I am so close. Close enough to know that I am being helped along and that my callow crawling did not give birth to this progress. Close enough to see that it is not a light: it is a fire meant to roast me. The Winter Witch has finished her games; she has no more use for her claws. 
She wants to use her teeth.
Fiction © Copyright Elaine Pascale
Image courtesy of  Pixabay.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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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author A.F. Stewart @scribe77 @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

002_DEC_LOHThe Winter Beast
by A.F. Stewart

Under the midnight sun, they hunted me. Across the snow and tundra, through the bitter wind that blew so frigid it turned any moisture to ice. They carried cold steel to contain me, never knowing how pitiful their restraints truly were.
I am the relentless.
I am of the endless winter.
I am the hunger.
Anytime, I could have left them behind in the snow, but they needed their lessons. When I tired of the hunt, I taught them the last lesson and turned the snow crimson with their warm blood. Then I was alone once more. But others would come to this frozen wasteland, seeking.
They always come.
I always survive.
They always die.
Eons of bones lay buried under the snow.
Fiction © Copyright A.F. Stewart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
 

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More from A.F. Stewart:

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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

001_DEC_LOHHappy Holidays
by Ela Lourenco

Christmas lights twinkle in all the shop windows. Crisp icy air tinged with the scent of roasted chestnuts and mulled wine. I sit back, my steaming cup in hand, and watch the people go by – some laden with gift bags, others milling around outdoor heaters sharing some Yuletide laughs over drinks.
All of them are in good spirits – all excited to spend the holidays with their friends and family. No one is alone… no one that is, except me.
I sit by myself, an invisible statue who no one thinks to even glance at. I am not complaining. It is what I like after all – to observe from the side-lines unseen by all. I watch until I find the lucky one. I am patient – I have four days until Christmas – I will know when I find the right little girl and then I will do what I do best and prepare her and her family a Christmas gift. I live for the surprise on the family’s faces on Christmas morning when they realise they are the special chosen ones this year…
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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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Marge Simon @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

004_DEC_LOH
Vision in a Block of Ice
by Marge Simon

In dawn’s early mist, a woman in a doorway nurses her child and sneers as we march past her building. She isn’t supposed to do this. We are soldiers, men of honor, she should be kneeling. When she spits at me, I fire my torch, her eyes widen and she screams.
We’re told the end is painless, freezing on the spot, but I have doubts, as it takes   ten long minutes for the chill to reach her heart.  When it’s done, the edges of her dark hair glisten. Escher patterned crystals dance in her spectral eyes. The guards come with tongs to place her in the transport van.  But first, with pick and hammer, her husband removes the tiny babe. Even in death she may hold it no more, for she has sinned. The frozen woman will be taken to the temple where relatives may pay respects. Although it is unclear to the villagers why she was shot, they will celebrate this coming weekend. A pity they have so few occasions.
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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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Suzanne Madron @suzannemadron @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

003_DEC_LOH

Cold Faith
by Suzanne Madron

“Your love is as cold as death in the night. It is empty and frozen like a wasteland.”
“We are almost there.”
Sister Lucinda squinted against the windswept shards of snow. They were sharp as razors to her frostbitten cheeks. She saw nothing before them but the unending darkness of the sky and the unforgiving white of the land. “We will die out here.”
The priest turned toward her, at last looking at her. “We have been promised sanctuary, Sister, and we must have faith that sanctuary awaits us.”
“Perhaps if you carried some of the weight of my burden, Father, I would be able to lift my faith from the depths of my despair.”
Father Michael smiled without humor and continued on his way without removing any of Sister Lucinda’s heavy bags, filled as they were with his religious artifacts and vestments. She had one bag of her own and it held one habit, her rosary beads, her well-worn Bible, a single wool blanket, and some food for the journey that she had hidden from the priest.
The night grew darker and colder around them, the wind harsher. The priest urged her on with promises of sanctuary and warmth. She no longer remembered how she had ended up in the middle of nowhere with this madman, carrying his luggage and listening to him speak endlessly of his own worth. She no longer felt her feet, only pain where her feet had once been. Her hands were frozen inside the woolen gloves, her fingers curled into stiff claws. Ice clung to the ends of her eyelashes and she felt an overwhelming urge to curl up in the snow and sleep.
Father Michael’s voice drifted out of the darkness somewhere ahead of her and Sister Lucinda realized she had stopped following him some time ago. A stab of fear settled into her stomach for the briefset moment until she realized that, with or without him, they were both lost in this night.
She scanned the horizon and saw a glimmer of light in the distance. With a cry of relief, she dropped the priest’s bags and ran toward it. It was a small structure with crosses positioned outside and along the roof. The windows were lit by an orange glow and Sister Lucinda’s tears of gratitude froze to her cheeks as she gazed upon the miracle of the tiny, out-of-the-way church.
She opened the door and felt the warmth before she saw the shadow in the corner. It rose to its feet as she stepped across the threshold of the little chapel and then it was all around her. Sister Lucinda gasped for breath as the shadow overwhelmed her and pushed her out of its way to escape into the night. She fell to the floor with a cry, then turned over to stare up at the open doorway.
For the first time, she noticed the brass plaque adhered to the door’s wooden surface. She stood and traced the words inscribed in the metal and felt her heart sink when she realized what she had just unleashed upon the world.
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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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kathleen McCluskey @KathleenMcClus4 @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

002_DEC_LOHGold
by Kathleen McCluskey

James could hear the wind howling as his tent rattled violently from the gusts. He sat back and listened intently, he tried to block out the sounds of the night and focus on a different vibration coming from the desolate, frozen wasteland. His captors, long gone, thought that the cold would be the beginning of his demise. Little did they know that his kind could survive in the most extreme climate, including here in this icy realm.
He twisted his wrists, trying in vain to remove the golden cuffs. His captors were smarter than he had anticipated and captured him with the only metal on the planet that could contain him: gold. His capture was quite pedestrian and he was disappointed in himself that he was so easily incarcerated. The moment that he knew that they were planning an arctic expulsion for him, he smiled inwardly. His kind would find him.
James closed his eyes and began to hum, a song that would only be heard by his kind. His purring became louder and louder until cutting through the howling wind a response was heard. James popped open his eyes and began to howl. A reassuring howl responded. His family was close, he threw his head back and inhaled deeply though his nose. He could smell his kind. He searched frantically for something, anything to release himself from the golden constraints.
James could hear soft sniffing as a large, white nose pushed through the door of the tent. It pushed a key, the key to his freedom, into the tent. Unlocking the handcuffs and exiting the tent James began to transform. He was elated to finally be free of this human form. His body convulsed as his true being began to emerge. Large talons emerged and long white fur replaced his vulnerable human skin. He was once again part of the abominable snowman tribe. Howling the song of the Yeti, he embraced his female and the troop fled back into their frozen domain.
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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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Naching T. Kassa @NachingKassa @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

001_DEC_LOH

A Christmas Tale
by Naching T. Kassa

Lydia Cratchitt sat in the hospital cafeteria, her eyes on her table’s red top. Festive decorations surrounded her in hues of glittering green, red, and silver, but she paid them little mind. Darkness had reached into her life, taken hold of her heart, and squeezed the light from it. 
A heavy-set waitress approached Lydia’s table holding a white paper bag in one hand.
“Lydia!” she cried. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Hello, Peg. How’s school?”
“Wonderful. My Bruce poo-pooed those cooking classes of mine, but he sure enjoys them now.”
“That’s great.”
Peg cocked her head to one side. “You ok, honey?”
A tear formed at the corner of Lydia’s eye and she quickly brushed it away. “No.”
“What’s wrong? Is it Tim?”
Lydia nodded. “I was up in his room a few minutes ago. The procedure on his back…it didn’t work. He still can’t walk.” 
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“They’re keeping him in the hospital for observation until Friday. Tomorrow’s Christmas and I won’t see him.”
“Why not?
“I asked for the day off and my boss, Jackie, agreed. But this morning, she changed her mind. She says that if she has to work, I do too. I can’t believe it. She knows about Tim.”
“Call in sick.”
“She’ll fire me if I do. And with all the medical bills, I can’t afford that. I…” She trailed off and buried her face in her hands. Peg placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. 
“That boss of yours is a real bitch.”
Lydia pulled a napkin from the dispenser on the table and dabbed at her eyes. “Well, it isn’t all bad. I won’t have to spend the whole day with Ms. Scrooge. At least I can see Tim when I get off.”
“Someone should get that woman an appointment with the three spirits,” Peg said. She paused. And tapped her upper lip with one finger. “You know, that gives me an idea. Wait here a minute.”
Peg hurried to the back. She returned a few minutes later with a Styrofoam cup.
“What’s this?” Lydia asked as the waitress set the cup down.
“Tea. A special kind I learned how to make it in one of my classes. It’s for your boss.”
“It’s not poison is it?”
“Of course not. It’s better if drunk from a glass cup, so you may want to use that. Tell her it’s a present from Peg in the Mt. Carmel Hospital cafeteria.”
“Will it hurt her?”
“It won’t kill her. Relax. All it’ll do is keep her from working for a bit.”
“I don’t think I should thank you for this.”
“You shouldn’t. Now, get to work or you’ll be late.”
“I just want to peek in on Tim one more time.”
“Don’t worry about Tim. I’ll check on him. And I’ll bring him a cup of tea while I’m at it.”
Lydia hurried out of the hospital and out to her car. She arrived at her workplace fifteen minutes later. Gordon’s Groceries hummed with activity.
Lydia took the cup from her cupholder and studied it.
She couldn’t give Jackie the tea. Not even for Tim’s sake. She carried it into the store, intending to toss it in the garbage.
“Thank God you’re back,” Tina, a red-headed girl said as Lydia walked through the door.
“What’s wrong?” 
“Ms. Scrooge is on the warpath. The new checker just asked for Christmas off. She blew up at her just outside her office. I think she’s going to fire her.”
“Katie? But she’s pregnant.”3jjjjkn 
“I don’t think Scrooge cares.”
Lydia hurried over to the manager’s office, the Styrofoam cup still in her hand. She found Jackie outside, shouting at a young woman with a tear-stained face.
“Jackie?” Lydia said.
“What?” the woman said, turning. She scowled at Lydia with crimson painted lips. The shade matched the color of her hair, the color of her coat, and the color of her nails. “What do you want, Lydia.”
“I’ll work Katie’s shift.”
“You want to work a double? I thought you had someplace to be.”
“It won’t be a problem,” Lydia said, clutching the cup Peg had given her.
“Alright.” She turned to Katie. “Get out of my sight.”
The pregnant woman hurried away. 
Lydia followed Jackie into her office. The woman stepped behind her desk, picked up a pair of fingerless gloves, and slipped them on. 
“Damn it’s cold,” Jackie muttered. She glanced up at Lydia. “Did you just get back from lunch?”
“Yes. I went to Mr. Carmel’s cafeteria. Peg heard you were having trouble with the cold and she sent this over. Do you have a glass cup? It may have cooled down a little.”
Jackie arched an eyebrow. “There’s one by the microwave. You can warm it up in there.”
Lydia prepared the tea in the microwave. When she’d finished, she handed the glass mug to Jackie.
“You can get back to work now,” her boss said, waving her away.
Lydia bowed out of the room and shut the door behind her. She’d barely taken two steps when something hit the wall behind her. A blood-curdling scream filled the air. 
Lydia rushed back to the office door and pulled on the doorknob. It wouldn’t budge.
“Oh, God!” Jackie screamed. “Help me!”
Something thumped against the door and it shook with the impact.
“Jackie!” Lydia cried. Several employees appeared at that moment. They stared at the door, eyes wide, as Jackie screamed again.
“Get the door open!” Lydia cried.
Two young men rushed up and threw their shoulders against the door. At last, it flew open. Lydia rushed inside.
The place lay in shambles. Paper, splintered wood, and other debris littered the floor. A shadow stood in the corner of the room. It stared at Lydia with strange scarlet eyes and opened a mouth filled with rows of sharp and bloodied teeth. Lydia blinked as it vanished into the woodwork.
A soft moan sounded from behind the desk. Jackie lay on the floor, her right arm and left leg bent at an unnatural angle. She stared at Lydia with haunted eyes.
“G-ghosts!” she whispered. 
“Oh, Jackie. I’m so sorry,” Lydia cried. 
“I will honor Christmas and keep it all the year,” Jackie said, trembling.
“I didn’t know you’d be hurt.”
“Their spirits shall strive within me. Their spirits shall strive within me!”
“Call an ambulance,” Lydia said. “Quick!”
Jackie grasped hold of Lydia’s wrist. “Tim will walk again,” she whispered. “He will walk again.”
Lydia’s heart rose into her throat. She pulled away from Jackie and rose to her feet. Tina took her place as she stepped away. 
Lydia’s cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her pocket. Mt. Carmel’s phone number came across the screen. She answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi, babe!”
“Tim? Tim, are you alright?”
“I couldn’t be better. Are you busy?”
“A little.”
“Then, I’ll be quick. It looks like I’ll be home for Christmas after all.”
“Oh, sweetheart! That’s wonderful! Are they loaning us a wheelchair?”
“Nope.”
“Not crutches?”
“No.”
“They’re not giving us anything?”
“They don’t need to.”
The phone nearly dropped from Lydia’s fingers.
“It’s weird, babe. One minute I was trapped in bed and the next I was on my feet. You see, Peg came to give me a cup of tea…”
Fiction © Copyright Naching T. Kassa
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
 

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More from Naching T. Kassa:

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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Nov_Image04Bloody Jasmines
by Sheikha A.

The moon swims in Neptune;
she oversees the scorpion,
clad in blue fur. Blood spurts
from throats of those she sews;
she turns silver under the touch
of moonlight – glorious, ravishing,
enthralling – she decimates
as men avoid her gaze – Medusa
on wild ocean waves. She is statue
of Midas, potent and irresistible,
sinister like Poseidon’s stealthy foot
steps on water; like a lurking spirit
in corners of a room. She guards
mirrors and reflections of souls
she has eaten; time has vanished
on her scales, growing longer than grief –
void essence – shedding days
behind her. Her mirror creaks
a beckoning she has heard before;
the moon curdles scarlet-froth; souls
upon souls trapped like tree roots;
she slithers, her venom shimmering
and fragrant. His whisper is familiar
calling her name, urging like waves
surrendering to silken shores; she looks
into her mirror, his smile like the trance
she would cast; and his eyes sapphire
onyx – silent blue flames – consuming,
unforgiving,
as she turns to stone.
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 Asena Lourenco @ElaLourenco @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Nov_Image01The Broken Barriers
by Asena Lourenco

The glass wept for mercy as sweaty fingertips clung on for life. 
The translucent barrier tempted me with a peek at what it held within but with enough protection to conceal the villain hidden.
 The white streaks of light were fighting a losing battle as the night swallowed it whole. Muffled screams rang through my ears.
 Sharp, but quiet, as if it were through a broken telephone. 
My head rested against the ruins of a wall. 
A warm thick substance tickled my bare toes, as my eyes darted to confront this unwelcome guest. 
A shriek sounded from behind the bolted door, synchronised with my own.
 Fragments of red glass scattered across the floor as a fist of the same pigmentation appeared through the opening. 
The deafening beat from my chest stopped as my brain blanked. 
My shoulder hit the concrete with a thud as my vision closed off.
Fiction © Copyright Asena Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More about Asena Lourenco:

Asena Lourenco is 13 years old. She loves reading, playing Scottish traditional fiddle music on her violin, dancing, and martial arts as well as writing her own stories.

She would like to be a teacher and writer when she grows up. She also loves cats and babies!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Erin Sweet Al-Mehairi @ErinAlMehairi @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Nov_Image03

Tentacled Stars and Madness
by Erin Sweet Al-Mehairi

How could I resist opening the door
to madness,
to chaos,
to FEELING?
I twisted the handle,
and I floated toward the stars,
toward the particles,
toward the tiny fires,
and I landed with one foot upon
the twinkling glow.
I outstretched my arm to the abyss,
and a tentacle clasped my hand,
and I laughed, being pulled away
into the midnight expanse of iridescent
nothingness
or is it encompassing, life painted as a cerebral hemorrhage,
an image emblazoned on our mind of what God is or the gods are,
of our existence.
I rotate through the soft air, looking upward from my back
as the sky creature pulls me toward oblivion,
as if I don’t even care to know where I go,
but enjoy the spontaneity.
The symbols etched in the stars as I go by – I finger them,
the runes of the galaxy;
my brain on fire, each synapse bursting open,
and yet, I’m unburdened.
In its lair, finally, it wraps its long arms around me and crushes,
bright lights flash before me, around me,
my mind downloading all of humanity’s curses and wishes,
and then,
I’m gone, floating in some communal stomach cavity, disintegrating to smaller pieces,
but becoming part of a bigger cosmos we could only dream of understanding…
…from our tiny window below.
Fiction © Copyright Erin Sweet Al-Mehairi
Fiction Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Erin Sweet Al-Mehairi:

Breathe. Breathe. 

BreatheBreathe. is a collection of dark poetry and short fiction exploring the surreal depths of humanity. It’s a representation of how life breaks us apart and words put us back together. Purged onto the pages, dark emotions flow, urging readers into murky seas and grim forests, to the fine line between breathing and death.In Act One, readers are presented with a serial killer in Victorian London, a lighthouse keeper with an eerie legacy, a murderous spouse that seems to have walked right out of a mystery novel, and a treacherous Japanese lady who wants to stay immortal. The heightened fears in the twilight of your minds will seep into the blackest of your nights, where you have to breathe in rhythm to stay alive.

In Act Two, the poetry turns more internal and pierces through the wall of denial and pain, bringing visceral emotions to the surface unleashing traumas such as domestic abuse, violence, and illness.
In the short stories, you’ll meet residents of Valhalla Lane whose lives are on a violent parallel track to collision, a man who is driven mad by the sound of a woodpecker, a teenage girl who wakes up on the beach and can’t find another soul in sight, a woman caught in a time shift pitting her against the Egyptian goddess Anuket, and a little girl whose whole world changes when her favorite dandelion yellow crayon is discontinued.
Amid these pages the haunting themes of oppression, isolation, revenge, and madness unfold through folklore, nightmares, and often times, raw, impulsive passion crafted to sear from the inside out.
With a touching foreword by the Bram Stoker nominated author Brian Kirk, Breathe. Breathe. will at times unsettle you, and at times embrace you. Erin Sweet Al-Mehairi, a veteran writer and editor of the written word, offers up a mixed set of pieces, identifying her as a strong, new voice in dark fiction that will tear the heart from your chest, all the while reminding you to breathe.

Available on Amazon!

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