Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author R.A. Clarke @RAClarkeWrites @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

001_Jan_LOHBeautiful
by R.A. Clarke

Janna’s Journal Day 1:
I arrived today. Pharmantis set me up in a private room with a soft, warm bed and three gourmet meals a day—a huge step up from the shelter. 
They promised I’d be beautiful again. That the burns covering my body, and the crash that caused them, would become worries of the past. My hair might even regrow.
I know there are risks… untested drugs and all that. But more than anything, I want my life back. To feel normal. To walk in public without staring or laughter. I have nothing to lose. 
I still can’t believe I got selected!
Every participant in the trial (30 of us) has to wear tiny monitors and report daily to the testing lab for skin cream application. Pretty straight forward.
Day 2:
It’s odd not having any windows. I mean, I get why—no outside access equals no leaked information. But it’s still weird. 
The cream tingles, but no allergic reactions. So far, so good.
Dare I hope?
Day 5
Holy shit, it’s a miracle! My scars are gone—like, GONE! They just sloughed off like snakeskin. I can’t stop staring in the mirror. 
Pharmantis says full treatment is required to ensure lasting results.
Fine by me!
Day 10:
Something’s not right. My skin looks pale, almost grey, and I’m exhausted. No! 
The Pharmantis doctors assure me these side effects will dissipate after full treatment. 
I’m trusting they know what they’re doing.
Feeling uneasy. 
Day 12:
Pain meds are useless. I’ve had a pounding headache for two days and I’m too nauseous to eat.
What’s worse, my skin looks darker every day, and the doctors keep saying it’s all part of the process. Seriously?
They won’t even let me make a phone call!
This is so messed up. I’m walking.
Day 13:
WTF! I tried to leave, but Pharmantis said, “The trials are going as planned. As per contract, you can’t revoke consent unless something goes wrong.” I lost my shit. 
I kicked and screamed as they held me down to apply the cream.
Day 14:
They’re watching us all very closely now, limiting participant contact.
But we’ve got a plan.
Day 16:
Today we revolted, storming the doors. It was a solid attack, but it’s like Pharmantis knew. They used stun guns, and now we’re all confined to our rooms.
This headache is making my eyes bulge. I swear my limbs are elongating, there are two nubs forming on my back, and… I’m growing a tail!
What am I becoming?
I’m freaking out.
Day 18:
Everything hurts so bad. All I feel is rage. They had to sedate me to apply the cream.
Memories keep fading. I can’t remember where I grew up. 
These “drugs” are messing with my head.
Day 20:
My fingers fused overnight. I planned to use these new pincer-like appendages to my advantage—but Pharmantis is always one step ahead. They fired a tranq dart through the slot in the door. 
I feel so helpless…
Day 22:
My eyes popped out, finally. They’re huge and turning black like my skin, but at least this horrendous headache is fading.
I worry I’m running out of time. Unwanted thoughts keep sneaking in… horrible thoughts.
I need to escape… before it’s too late.
Day 23:
Today I smashed the mirror, stabbing broken shards into my wrists. I’d rather die than become a monster. But my skin was too tough—hard, like a shell. I don’t know what to do anymore.
Sometimes I don’t know who I am.
I have so little energy.  
Day 24:
A plateful of grasshoppers slid under my door this morning. They looked disgusting… yet, hunger gripped me for the first time in weeks. 
I couldn’t help myself… 
They tasted so good.
Day 25:
Wow, I slept all day—must’ve needed it. I feel refreshed, yet also confused. Why are the first 23 pages of my journal missing? Why can’t I remember what I wrote?
And, where am I?
Day 26:
All this food has given me strength. I feel amazing—powerful. Yet still so hungry. I crave the taste of something bigger. Something I can hunt. 
My caretakers promise that all my questions will be answered soon.
I have this bizarre feeling I should hate them, yet I can’t imagine why… 
Day 27:
My wings finally sprouted! They’re so gorgeous, I actually cried. The creators even gave me a special name to celebrate: Butterfly.
They think I’m beautiful.
Day 28: 
Today, I met 29 others just like me. My family. I’m not alone anymore. 
The creators say our insectile DNA makes us special—superior warriors. 
My stomach growls as they explain our sacred duty.
Let the cleansing begin.
Fiction © Copyright R,A. Clarke
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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About author R.A. Clarke:

bobThe Big Ol’ Bike
Oliver is small, from footprint to glasses. He gets an old bike for his birthday and loves it, but not everyone does. Challenged to a race by the meanest bully in school, will Oliver be big enough to prove heroes come in all sizes?

Get your copy here!

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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!

004_Jan_LOH

Perspective
by Angela Yuriko Smith

he: astronaut high
more far out than a rocket
lost and outer spaced
numb and comet cold
a warp speed drift to nowhere
alienated.
she: drowning girl deep
buried under the abyss
blind and untethered
drift in the current
coming apart like a corpse
a monstrosity.
they: two broken cogs
no truce,
no quarter given
fighting each other
a broken machine
sum of dysfunctional parts
systematic fails.
they made a good match
to light their world into flame
burning everything
different perspectives
could only see I to I
but neither could breathe.
Fiction © Copyright Angela Yuriko Smith
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

003_Jan_LOH

Lord of the Manor
by Terrie Leigh Relf

It had been a brutal winter, and the people were starving, their ashen hands raised up in supplication for just a morsel of bread, a bit of fruit. Anything. I peered through a peephole as the lord and lady of the manor took a few steps onto the platform, house servants following close behind, nearly crippled by the weight of heavy baskets and buckets. Many of the gathered throng called out their hopes and prayers for the lord and lady’s health and well-being, while others cursed the hands that had not fed them.
With a wave of his hand, the lord directed the first pair of servants forward, followed by the next and then the next. The servants waited for the sign to dispense the food and drink, but the lord and lady turned and walked back into their manor. I heard the locks clicking, the bolts sliding, and wondered how the servants would gain access. 
Apparently, their masters’ retreat was the sign the servants awaited . . . In near unison, they lifted lids off buckets and baskets, recoiling at what these contained. Even from a safe distance, I gagged as the scent of rotting food and something worse. Much, much worse.
As the mob clambered up the platform, pushing and shoving to reach what they believed was food and drink, the servants turned to run. 
“This way!” I called out to them, hoping to guide the servants to the side entrance, to no avail. As the mob’s rage escalated, the servants didn’t have a chance. 
They weren’t the only ones torn limb from limb . . . 
I opened the side door and led the charge to my parents’ sitting room, vowing that I would be a better lord of the manor, and they would want for nothing.
Fiction © Copyright Terrie Leigh Relf
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
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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 here!

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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

002_Jan_LOH

Redder Riding Hood
by K.R. Morrison

Red grumbled to herself as she scuffed her feet along the path.
It just wasn’t right. She was supposed to be wearing her red cape when she went to Grandma’s. But nooo…Mom had to wash it today. The visit could have waited until tomorrow, but Mom had insisted that Red go now.
NOW. Even though it was raining and cold and yucky out, Red had to put on her little brother’s yellow rain slicker and trudge out to Grandma’s.
She hated yellow. She hated rain slickers. And she was pretty sure she hated everyone and everything.
There were lights in the windows at Grandma’s—good. Short visit and gone.
But wait—this was not her house. Confused, Red looked around her. These were not her woods.
As she turned to go back the way she had come, she heard barking behind her. She looked back, and saw an enormous dog rushing toward her. And the damn thing had three heads!
Red shrieked and started running. She didn’t get far before something came out of the ground and caught her around the ankle. It picked her up and shook her like a rag doll.
The dog stopped in its tracks. A voice came from all around: “Cerberus! Fetch!”
Red found herself flying through the air, the freaky dog following below her. It caught her in its jaws.
No doubt about it—that yellow slicker was now definitely going to be red.
Fiction © Copyright K.R. Morrison
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
 

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More from Author K.R. Morrison:

Be Not Afraid (Pride’s Downfall Vol 1)

Lydia’s faith in God is strong – at least on paper. But what happens when that faith is tested? Turned into a vampire by the worst – Vlad Drakul – she feels that God has abandoned her. But the opposite is true. God rescues her from a fate worse than death, and brings her into the plan He has for global redemption. With the help He sends, she feels like nothing can stop her. But when Vlad torments her again, and then her family, the temptation to run and hide is almost too strong to resist. Her answer to God’s call is the deciding factor in the battle that pits the angelic powers of God against the demonic powers of Hell.

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!

001_Jan_LOH

Ants to a Hill Fire
by Melissa R. Mendelson

I hate the government.  I hate their lies.  They tell us that we are free to do what we want, but they watch our every move, record each word we say.  There is no freedom but only control, and things are getting worse.  The election was a joke, and the country is breaking apart.  Something must be done, and a flier was slid under my front door.
March on the Capitol.  The date and time was set.  Wear all black.  Don’t forget the white armband.  No weapons, but I knew others would bring them.  I tucked a pocketknife into my back pocket.  Who was going to search me during the protest?  I told my parents that I was staying at a friend’s house, and I was staying with a friend.  But he was the one driving me to the Capitol.
“We’re going to tell those fucks what’s real,” my friend said as he floored it.
“We’re going to be late,” I said.
“You’re never late for a protest,” and my friend flew like a bat out of hell, determined to have his fill of blood.
I made it just in time.  I launched out of the car, and so did my friend.  He did not care about a parking ticket.  He did not care about me because within minutes, he disappeared into the crowd.  I was left pushed and pulled with the others, and we stormed the Capitol, breaking down doors and shattering glass.
Someone moved past me.  I thought it was another protestor screaming for their rights, but they were not screaming.  They walked in-between the madness with the hood pulled down low.  Their face turned toward mine.  Large, black eyes jutted outward.  Their mandibles stretched into a hideous grin.  A femur reached for me, but another protestor slammed into them.  And that protestor was tossed aside as if they were nothing but a rag doll.
I backed into a nearby wall.  My eyes scanned the mob.  There was more than one of them.  Each one was strategically positioned, egging on the protestors.  This was what they wanted.  I screamed for everyone to stop.  No one did except for them, and they began to swarm towards me.  Just as they got close, everything went dark, silenced by a hail of bullets.
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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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Rie Sheridan Rose @RieSheridanRose @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

004_Jan_LOHBreathless
by Rie Sheridan Rose

I rise up from the depths
where I was tossed…
no need for chains
thought the lazy man
with the heavy hands
who threw me from the boat—
the wool of the sweater will
be enough.
He was wrong.
I rise up from the depths
where I was tossed…
He plummets from the stars
where he has walked…
tethered to safety
by a slender cord—
drifting downward 
weightless to meet the Earth
as it curves beneath.
Safety is illusory.
He plummets from the stars
where he has walked…
We meet in the middle—
Breathless.
Fiction © Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Author Rie Sheridan Rose:

519RiHK+1wL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_

Overheard in Hell:
Dark Poetry

Poems exploring hell and damnation. Tales of sorrow, vengeance, betrayal, and redemption. Ghosts, ghouls, and demons stalk these pages. Don’t read in a lonely house…in a darkened room by a single candle…

…unless you like the touch of an icy finger up your spine.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Linda Lee Rice @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

003_Jan_LOH

The Crop
by Linda Lee Rice

The full moon shone on the crop, and I realized it was almost harvest time again. The moon always shone on the ones that were ripe, ready to be plucked out of the ground. It also shadowed the ones that needed to spend a bit more time in the ground.
I always had a green thumb; I could grow almost anything in the Before Time. Veggies were always green, and the fruit from the trees dripped with juice. I still had the most aromatic herbs for soups and medicinal purposes. Flowers were beautiful, and I did grow some of them, but you can’t always eat flowers.
When the plague hit, food was scarce. People started riots and killed their neighbors over a slice of bread. It was a terrible time, and I almost didn’t live through it. But being here in this out of the way spot did buy me some time.
I noticed that the soil had changed and whatever I planted grew. It started when I buried a few rabbits’ feet after I had trapped and killed them for my larder. When I went out the next morning, little rabbit toes were stuck above the surface. I figured that some creature had started to dig them up and were interrupted.
When I bent over to cover them back up, they wiggled. I admit I jumped back and let loose some expletives. I pulled one of the feet out and noticed it had grown slightly, but now it lay still in my palm. So, I experimented over the next few days.
I caught some other of the deformed creatures around my wooded area. Killed them and planted different body parts. I always got the best crop, though, with the extremities. So, I would harvest under the full moon enough food for the month. I was content.
Then THEY showed up. The little corner of my world started to become invaded by the remnants of humanity. I tried showing them how planting worked now, but they only wanted what I had. So, I did what I had to do.
My crop has changed now, and I no longer need to get rid of all that disgusting fur after pulling up my harvest. I can just choose what I need, either smoke it or pickle it later for storage. When adding my dried herbs and some strange looking veggies, the crop makes a delicious meal.
As the hands wave in the moonlight, my mouth begins to water.
Fiction © Copyright Linda Lee Rice
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More about Linda Lee Rice:

me in burgandy hat2

Linda Lee Rice aka Ruzicka has poetry published in Twilight Times, Dark Krypt, Fables, Descending Darkness, Writing Village, Spine, and Page, Muses Gallery, Bloodbond, Lycan Valley Press Publishers, Alban Lake, Highland Park Poetry, Rosette Maleficarum, The Siren’s Call, Edify Fiction

and the June Cotner anthology, “House Blessings” and “Garden Blessings

She has short stories published in The Grit, and Reminisce, Haunted Encounters: Friends and Family, FrostFire Worlds. Plus, a personal essay at Mamalode. She also has various articles and blogs published online as a freelance writer.

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Alex Grey @indigodreamers @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

002_Jan_LOH

Nesta’s Nice Nature Storybook
by Alex Grey

“Look, I’ve bought us a new book – I thought we might read it together.”
 “Reading is boring.”
 “But this is all about a little girl like you. She’s called Nesta and it’s the story of the nature walk she went on with her mummy.”
 “A girl just like me?”
 “Well, Nesta didn’t go wandering in the woods by herself; she went with her mummy and saw lots of interesting things that weren’t creepy at all.”
 “Nature wouldn’t exist without creepy crawlies!”
 “On her walk Nesta greeted all the cute woodland animals. See, there she is saying ‘Hello, Mr Squirrel’ and on the next page she’s saying ‘Hello, Mr Fox’.”
 “That’s stupid, animals can’t talk, they’re scared of little girls.”
 “Well, maybe they’re just scared of you…maybe if you said ‘hello’ nicely instead of throwing stones…”
 “It’s not my fault! They hiss at me when I go past!”
 “O-kay. Shall we see what else Nesta finds in the forest?”
 “I expect there’ll be monsters next.”
 “Honestly, not everything is horrible monsters, this is a nice nature book.”
 “Wanna bet?”
 “Look, here’s the next page, Nesta and her mummy decide to call in on grandma for a glass of milk and some cookies. Hang on, that doesn’t look like a grandma’s cottage.”
 “It looks like a monster’s house.”
 “Don’t be silly.”
 “Monsters have the best houses, I can see them peeking out.”
 “I can’t see any monsters, you’re just making things up. Shall we turn the page and see what sort of cookies Nesta finds?”
 “The cookies will eat her up.”
 “Really, that’s enough! This is a kind book.”
 “Oh yes, it’s my new favourite. That house looks so real I bet we could step right inside.”
 “Hmmm, maybe we should stop reading now, it is late.”
 “No! I want to go there – hold my hand!”
 “Ouch, don’t grab like that!”
“Come on mummy.”
“No, I don’t want to go! Wait!” 
 “There, now we’re in the forest for real.”
“What have you done, you little beast?”
“I told you reading was boring; now we can visit the monsters.”
“Take me back!”
“Oh no mummy, I think we should go in the house – I expect they’ll bake you into excellent cookies. In you go…”
Fiction © Copyright Alex Grey
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More about Alex Grey:

After a lifetime of writing technical non-fiction, Alex Grey is fulfilling her dream of writing poems and stories that engage the reader’s emotions. Her work has been featured by a wide range of publications including Siren’s Call, Raconteur, Bookends Review, and Toasted Cheese. One of her comic poems is also available via a worldwide network of public fiction dispensers managed by French publisher, Short Edition. Her ingredients for contentment are narrow boating, greyhounds, singing and chocolate. It is a sweet life, yet Alex’ original view of the world has led to her best friend to say ‘For someone so lovely, you’re very twisted!

Please click here to discover more! 

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Michelle Joy Gallagher @Aphelia @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

001_Jan_LOH

Nancy’s Alright
by Michelle Joy Gallagher

The known dark is warm and familiar. It’s in the way the room develops as our eyes adjust when we turn off the lights. We instinctively fold ourselves into it, cradled by its comfort. It is an evolutionary gift that we benefit from that allows us to identify familiar shapes and sense movement. 
 The unknown dark is built out of the darkness in the blink of an eye, the darkness that resides in the closed system of our bodies, our hearts beating out a lifetime in its grasp. It is not so much the absence of light as it is the place behind light. The place we can only intuit and never get true glimpses of. And it is occupied.  
*
It was a new hotel, but the room looked the same as the one she slept in the night before. That was 500 miles ago. Nancy was exhausted. She drew the heavy blackout curtains and threw herself onto the bed face first fully clothed and sighed deeply. She reached out to turn off the bedside lamp but hesitated. She craned her neck around to survey her surroundings one last time. It wasn’t fancy but it didn’t have to be. It was a safe place to sleep and that was all. A TV, a dresser, a sitting table and chair. Olive green, burgundy, relics from fashionable furnishings 10 years ago.  
“Alright.” She told no one. She turned onto her back and stretched to turn off the lamp. 
There was something there. Alive. Looming over her unseen in the unknown dark.  
“Alright.” It mimicked almost mechanically. Mockingly. Inhumanly. She wanted to scream, but this thing that she could feel but not see felt so close she was afraid to. She simply said “please.”  
She began to see the outline of television and dresser, and as they sharpened into focus, that … thing, whatever it was, the feeling of it in front of her started to dissipate, evaporate like rainwater. She sat bolt upright and looked around the room, all the familiar landmarks there. Nothing out of order. She blinked and realized that within each fraction of a second in the darkness behind her eyelids, it was there. She couldn’t escape it.  
*
The cleaning crew came through at 9am. Sara and Carina had already been on the clock for 3 hours and were on autopilot. They knocked at room 207 but got no response. Everything looked untouched. They shrugged at each other and started the regular cleaning. Sara in the bathroom and Carina dusting the furniture. Carina screamed in a way that made Sara’s stomach flip. She bolted from the bathroom and saw Carina knelt beside the far side of the bed. Then she saw the body. It wasn’t unusual for housekeeping crews to find people dead in the rooms they serviced. They had heard horror stories. But it appeared this woman had used the small sewing kit the hotel provided to sew her eyelids open. The stitches had ripped in places, leaving her eyelids a tattered mess of strips of flesh and coagulated blood.  
Fiction © Copyright Michelle Joy Gallagher
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from author Michelle Joy Gallagher:
cafemacabre
Café Macabre

This collection of twelve stories and artwork by women is truly a collection of the macabre. Make a reservation for terror and get ready to delve into the deepest, darkest fears of some of the best writers and artists in the fiction game. Leah McNaughton Lederman has collected an anthology of the truly strange… a tome of the weird. Take a seat and order a cup, you’re dining at Café Macabre!

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!

004_Jan_LOHCollision
by A.F. Stewart

Space exploration. Voyage causation. Freefall sensation.
You are a go.
Readings are optimal
The spacewalk begins…
She awakes
Beneath the cosmos,
wrapped in jade, she lingers
daughter of undertow
scion of the screaming
Somewhere ceaselessly
craving against the expanse
Insatiable curiosity. Escape velocity. Looming monstrosity.
Mission on track… wait
There is an anomaly\
Investigation commences…
She sees him.
Drifting within the conscious,
always below the black void
she eternally remains
child of the dissolution
soldier of the irrevocable war
the destroyer waiting
to be discovered…
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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