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

Posted on May 30, 2020 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_01The Jester
by Kathleen McCluskey

The jester sat in his humble room and looked around. His grandmother’s urn sat on his small desk mocking him. He looked at it and sighed, he thought about how she would always tell him, “Don’t ever underestimate the power that your family legacy holds. We are the keepers of secrets. We are the keepers of all things deadly.” He smiled as he remembered her getting revenge on the man that had smacked him when he was a boy. She went into their small hut and began her incantations. He watched with his eye swelling as the man began to cough, the cough up blood. Watching as the color ran out of his face and blood poured out of his eyes and nose, he smiled. Vengeance always made him smile.
Now he sat, in his cold desolate room and thought about the king. The king had a nasty habit of making him do the most obscene things. He shook his head as he remembered the monarch making him drink one of the knight’s piss. All because he laughed at the knight for having spilled wine on his shirt, “drink, fool. Drink!” the king cackled at him. A large tear rolled down his cheek as he recalled the humiliation and the sickness that followed. He knew that he would never have the nerve to tell the king that he was being cruel. To do that would drop the wrath of the king onto his head. He was only a jester after all.
He stretched out onto his bed, turned his head and looked at the urn again. Closing his eyes he began to think about the things she taught him. Tossing the blankets off, he went to the cabinet. There sitting on the shelf were the flowers that she had given him on her death bed. He smiled a crooked, evil smile and lifted the container off the shelf. He knew what he was going to do. He would make the king drink, he would make him drink the tainted tea. The jester would watch as the king and some of his court writhed in pain on the floor as death would come to take them. And the jester smiled. Vengeance always made him smile.
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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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Lydia Prime @LydiaPrime @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 29, 2020 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_04

Speckle
by Lydia Prime

The brightest star faded, falling from the sky, as the planetary spinning dwindled to a shattering halt; vibrant colors of the land lost to a withered world. Animals, people, plants — all wasted away to be forgotten by time. The seas dried up, and the lining of the earth cracked. Small rocks trickled through eroded slivers in the ground, never to ‘plunk’ on their bottomless drop. Astronomical devastation scrubbed the global guise.
Upon its face, tiny hands held lovingly to a speckled egg. A creature, unfamiliar with the unborn being deep within, spent its last remaining moments clutching the shell as if to say, ‘You are not alone.’
The blood that had seeped through the brittle nest did nothing to quell the parched ground beneath. At last, final breaths expelled into the forever blackened sky. Time was unkind as it wore down more lands, more lives. Flesh of the minuscule monster gave way to muscle then bone as its carcass caved to the harsh atmosphere.
Skeletal fingers loosely cradled the petrified egg, the skull gently nestled along the top in despondent comfort.
Fiction © Copyright Lydia Prime
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from author Lydia Prime:

UHBWUnder Her Black Wings:
2020 Women of Horror Anthology

– A glamorous actress whose very flesh is reanimated by a beloved Hollywood icon
– A Boy Scout Troup encounters a frightening mythological creature in an American forest
– A lonely woman finds a home among a group of lost-and-found souls, all cared for by a tentacled sea-creature called Mother
– A Faceless Woman attacks like a virus and takes on the identities of her victims
– A post-apocalyptic battle for survival rages between human and insect
– A Shadow Woman leads the spirits of the murdered to take revenge in the desert

These are just some of the stories nineteen women came up with when tasked with creating their own Women Monsters. Step inside and experience tales of bloodsucking entities in the jungles of Southeast Asia, Cuban river goddesses, an Aztec bruja, werewolves, mermaids, soul-stealers, obsessive lovers, furious spurned wives, bloody murder in Gothic manors and on Southern plantations… and so much more…

With Foreword by Brandon Scott (Author of Vodou and Sleight, Devil Dog Press)

 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 Linda Lee Rice @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 29, 2020 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_03

A Walk in the Park
by Linda Lee Rice

Let’s take a walk in the park, shall we?” he nuzzled my neck, his warm breath creating a halo of mist. The park, eerily lit, fog rolling, an unquiet air about it. I shivered as the autumn breeze rustled through the leaves at my feet.
“Are you frightened, my pet?” his long rider coat whirled around him, reminding me of a cape. He sniffed the air as if sensing my unspoken fear. The walkway seemed to go on forever, the end not in sight. Why did he suggest walking through this desolate area?
The tavern had been warm and cozy with the fireplace blazing. I had been drinking my brandy to take the chill off my bones. Business has been slow tonight; I had been brushed aside numerous times while trying to attract the eye of the right man.
He walked strode through the door as if he owned the place. I peeked at him over the rim of my glass. I let my eyes roam his broad physique, his hair curling around his ears and neck. He saw me and grinned a white-toothed grin, which widened when he saw me staring. I do admit, though, his appreciative glance gave me a tingle along my spine…there was something.
He sauntered over to me as if giving me time to size him up.
“Is this seat occupied?”
“No, it’s not, I’m alone tonight.”
He sat and calmly talked about the weather, his being in town, and could he pay for my company? I’m usually more cautious, but he drew me to him as no other in a long time. His eyes sparkled with merriment and reassured me, calmed me almost as if he were a dose of laudanum.
And now, we’re at the park, the lights shrouded by the fog and noises muffled in the darkness. He turns to me as his eyes begin to widen and change, becoming wolfish. His melodious voice deepened into a growl as his bones began to writhe under his skin.
I caught my breath at the magnificence of this man-beast. As he reached for me claws extended, I swiftly sank my fangs into his neck. Blood dripping from my mouth, I slowly licked my lips as I looked at the beast, who is once again a man lying at my feet. The clan didn’t exaggerate, werewolf blood is the sweetest!
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 Angela Yuriko Smith @AngelaYSmith @Sotet_Angyal #LoH

Posted on May 28, 2020 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_02

Obedient Minions (don’t!)
by Angela Yuriko Smith

The gears of progress
grind us into ash and dust…
remnants of our souls
cast off between shifts.
No matter the cost, we toil
for the bottom line.
The grit from our bones
make a shaky foundation.
Our children collapse
beneath the dead weight
of a future where our hope
has left the building.
Now live and let die
obedient minions (don’t!).
Trust your overlords.

 

Fiction © Copyright Angela Yuriko Smith
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Angela Yuriko Smith:

The Bitter Suites

Book a stay at the Bitter Suites, a hotel that specializes in renewable death experiences. Whether you schedule your demise as therapy, to bond with a loved one or for pure recreation, your death is sure to give you a new lease on life. Renewable death is always beneficial… at least to someone.

Available on Amazon!

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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Tiffany Michelle Brown @TiffeBrown @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 28, 2020 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_01Come Back to Me
by Tiffany Michelle Brown

It would work this time. It had to.
Monica poured the hot water over the buds, waited for the tea to steep. The scents of rose, iron, and sage hung in the air as precious seconds passed by. Precious seconds without Caleb.
Monica took a deep breath, tamping down her loneliness. They would be reunited. She had to believe, had to have faith.
Caleb stirred the solution, clutched the glass in her shaking hands, and approached Caleb’s prone body. The lips she’d kissed so many times were ashen and cracked, but she loved them nonetheless. Her fingertips caressed the cold skin of his cheek.
She tipped her glass, and the tea pooled in Caleb’s lifeless mouth. Monica watched as the liquid trickled down his throat.
She waited, waited, waited. Watched his long, pale fingers. Hoping they’d twitch.

 

Fiction © Copyright Tiffany Michelle Brown
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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

Posted on May 27, 2020 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_04What the Embryologists Discovered
by Terrie Leigh Relf

It was winter when we found her nest . . . Still cradling her egg with arms and hands now devoid of flesh, a creature of unknown origin. She had clearly been dead for quite some time. Rather than being horrified at the sight of human hands on what at first appeared to be a bird, we were touched by the scene, curious as to what had befallen her, saddened by the certain death of her progeny. 
candling the egg
back at the lab
movement
While the egg incubated, we studied its mother’s bones. What first appeared to be the effects of weathering, we discovered were claw and teeth marks. Carbon dating revealed that our initial perceptions had been incorrect, as the mother had been dead but hours. After the initial scans revealed significant traces of humanoid DNA, we ran them again with the same results. 
somewhere
in the forest
another hatchling
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 from the Alban Lake Store!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Christina Sng @ChristinaSng @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 27, 2020 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


May2020_Image_03Witching Hour at the Park
by Christina Sng

By the flickering lamp light
In the dead of night,

A man chases a girl,
Wielding a knife.

She screams help
To anyone who can hear

But the park is closed,
There is nobody near.

Yet someone hears
The young girl’s cry.

Someone who is familiar
With the evil outside.

All of a sudden,
The girl swerves right.

The man curses,
Ready for a fight.

Suddenly he trips
Over a fallen tree branch,

Accidentally stabbing
Himself in the gut.

He picks himself up,
His wound dripping blood,

He pulls out the knife
And passes out.

The tree roots emerge,
Pulling him down.

By morning, he is buried
Deep underground.

His body will nourish
The tree for a time

Till another arrives
With murder on his mind.

Fiction © Copyright Christina Sng
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Christina Sng:

A Collection of Nightmares

Hold your screams and enter a world of seasonal creatures, dreams of bones, and confessions modeled from open eyes and endless insomnia. Christina Sng’s A Collection of Nightmares is a poetic feast of sleeplessness and shadows, an exquisite exhibition of fear and things better left unsaid. Here are ramblings at the end of the world and a path that leads to a thousand paper cuts at the hands of a skin carver. There are crawlspace whispers, and fresh sheets gently washed with sacrifice and poison, and if you’re careful in this ghost month, these poems will call upon the succubus to tend to your flesh wounds and scars.
These nightmares are sweeping fantasies that electrocute the senses as much as they dull the ache of loneliness by showing you what’s hiding under your bed, in the back of your closet, and inside your head. Sng’s poems dissect and flower, her autopsies are delicate blooms dressed with blood and syntax. Her words are charcoal and cotton, safe yet dressed in an executioner’s garb.
Dream carefully.
You’ve already made your bed.
The nightmares you have now will not be kind.
And you have no one to blame but yourself.

Available on Amazon!

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

Posted on May 26, 2020 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_02

Lead Kindly Light…
by Alex Grey

Midnight, Sunday June 16th, 1799
The celestial light glows all day, but it is always at its finest in this quiet hour before the night shift. I tell my workers that ‘cleanliness is next to godliness’, so the manufactory gleams. Aye, the children have done their work well, crawling under, over and between the mechanisms, cleaning every speck of dust and dander that might mark the fine sheets that we make here.
I tell my rivals that the light which enables me to spin and weave cotton all hours is generated by a science so extraordinary as to seem like magic. They nod, the curls of their periwigs jouncing gently. They are men of honour and reason, they do not doubt my word. They believe that my generous philanthropy drives my manufactory’s miraculous productivity.
The close-knit ranks of looms sit quiet, expectant, an army waiting for its marching orders. Machines are obedient, for they do nothing but that for which they were built; they are not bothered by the small doings of life, neither do they laze or become weary. Yet the world works best when man and machine toil together.
A machine, if kept clean and well-oiled will give of its best, so it is with man. Therefore, I built a town for my workers, each brick-built terrace a palace for the poor. Families may earn a living wage, fathers, mothers, children; all have their part to play. I provide good food, clean water. The works chapel gives them a place to worship, to learn their gospels, to celebrate marriages, births and deaths. I bring them this light, which does not burn or fume like filthy tallow candles, thus my machines stay free of soot and my workers prosper.
Martha was the first.
It is hard to imagine, in this stillness, how these looms may weave cloth and un-weave a life with equal facility. She was leaning over the heddle reed when her hair sprang free of its scarf and caught in the warp. The flying shuttle, steam driven and fierce, soon bound her to the sheet, the last pass striking a ferocious blow to her head. I remember shouting for the foreman to stop the machines. I remember reaching for shears to free her before her blood ruined a whole day’s weaving.
She was still alive, whispering lead kindly light, though the day was overcast and there was naught but gloom in the mean windows. I cut her hair close, freeing her from the loom. She grasped my hand. Suddenly I saw her vision, a seraphic glow, white and pure, brighter than the sun at noontide yet it did not blind; the light illuminated the manufactory with perfect clarity. It was an eternal moment before her hand slackened and her soul merged with the light and vanished.
I longed to see that divine radiance again, to capture it for my own ends. I turned to the good book, but my answers lay in darker texts. I cut vast windows into the manufactory walls, paid a fortune to fill them with tiny glass panes, framed by a filigree of lead, charmed by the devil’s blacksmith.
The looms are implacable, and workers are careless; there are always souls aplenty to keep open the portal to Heaven. Sometimes I hear them moaning, for all that we buried their bodies with due Christian ceremony. Their cries are full of craving, their souls caught in a mesh of enchantment which prevents their ascension. The open portal floods the manufactory with wholesome heavenly light, my workers labour in its rapture, even as the longing souls suffer.
The devil warned me there would be a price to pay, but I care not, for I am a wealthy man.
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 ingredients for contentment are narrowboating, greyhounds, singing and chocolate – it’s a sweet life. Her poems and short stories have been published by a number of ezines including The Siren’s Call, Raconteur 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. Alex’s original view of the world, which shines through her writing, 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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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 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 26, 2020 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_01

Maybe Skip the Tea Next Time
by Melissa R. Mendelson

Every five years, Lady Camilla would throw a party.  I waited for my invite for her last party, but it never came.  She was very selective of the eight individuals that she chose.  I didn’t expect to be invited to the party today, and I swore up and down that I would not go.  She could pick someone else, but at nine p.m., I was knocking on her door.
“This is stupid,” I muttered under my breath.  The door opened.  I stepped inside, and the manor stole my breath away.  Six guests barely acknowledged me, and a clock somewhere down the hall chimed loudly.  Lady Camilla appeared at the top of the stairs, and we were all asked to step into the dining room.
“What is she doing,” I asked the woman next to me.
“Making tea,” the woman hissed back.
The dining room table held what looked like a child’s tea collection.  Only the bronze pot containing the hot water caught my eye.  Then, I noticed little green, plant-like balls with pink nearby.  She placed one ball into each cup, and they disintegrated quickly.
“What are those things,” I asked the woman next to me.
“Oh, for the love of God.  That’s how we will see our future.”
“You really believe that,” but the woman stepped away from me.
The servants picked up the teacups.  They approached each of us, and the guests took the teacups.  I hesitated before taking mine.  I thought a rich person’s party would be outrageous and not a tea party.
“Drink,” Lady Camilla said, and everyone did.  Everyone except for me.  “Drink,” Lady Camilla directed at me, and I downed the tea, which amazingly tasted like strawberries.
I felt myself being thrown back.  A man was yelling in my face.  Every fiber of my body wanted him, but my heart hated him.  I lost everything to him, and it still wasn’t enough.  He needed more from me, but I had nothing left to give.
“You ruined me,” I screamed at him.  “I have nothing because of you.  I hate you,” but when he touched my arm, I quivered.  “I hate you,” but my body begged more for his touch.  “I hate you,” and he pressed his lips against mine.  I couldn’t breathe, but I couldn’t let go.  He pushed against me, and I welcomed it.  I embraced the void icing up my skin, and I fell on the floor.
“You okay, Miss?  I know that tea can be strong.”
“I’m okay.”  I looked up to see a hand held out toward me.  “Thank you.”  I grabbed the hand, and electricity rushed through me.
“You sure you’re okay,” he asked, and I nearly melted against him.  “You look pale.”
“I’m fine,” but I didn’t let go of his arm.
“How about we go outside and get some air?”
“I would like that.”  I held onto him, never intending to let go, and every fiber of my body begged for him to draw closer.  Like a moth to a flame, I was his.
Fiction © Copyright Melissa R. Mendelson
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
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More from Melissa R. Mendelson:

MelissaRMenelson_BettorOffHereBetter Off Here

We always look to the greener pastures, thinking our lives would be so much better over there, but if we were over there, what if all we wanted was to go back? Instead, we found ourselves trapped with the darker side to our fears.

Available on Amazon!

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Bailey Hunter @DarkRecesses @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 25, 2020 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

May2020_Image_04

Death’s Miracle
by Bailey Hunter

It started like any regular day. Or so the world thought. Then the news started trickling in about miracles of life– reverence followed closely on its heels.
By midday the news had spun those miracles into panic, as news is wont to do. After all, the motto had been “If it bleeds, it leads” for so long, but now, on this day, bleeding meant nothing. No one died, no matter how much blood was shed. Soldiers across the planet shot and bombed, only to live to scream the tale from metal flayed bodies. Heart attacks, car accidents, and even plain old age took not one life. Within twelve hours almost everyone knew that death was no longer a concern.
Like a dark little seed an idea grew, twisted and poisonous. No death, no real consequences. 
Some saw the joy in it, but many more saw it as an opportunity to exact the most violent revenge they could imagine on whomever they felt earned their wrath. By end of day, the bloodshed was beyond anything the world had seen since its existence. No death, but plenty of pain. The streets were stained with years of anger and fear that had been pent up.  What should have been death had become torture in a few short hours.
Scientists flooded the airways with speculation, as did the conspiracy theorists. Governments worldwide scrambled to try and get some control over things…but they were the centre of so much rage.  Many fell victim to the pandemonium before they could form a thought. Some learned how many times they could be shot in a single day by their own staff. Others discovered they couldn’t out run a machete wielded by their most trusted advisors.
By the time day turned to night, the world had devolved into pure chaos. Hospitals were overrun, many unable to function as there was no safe space anymore. Others hid from it all, grateful for one more day with a loved one, while equally terrified that someone with a grudge would come tear down their doors with destruction in their hearts.
No one looked forward to tomorrow.
They will never know the reason, but I do. It was a miracle, just not the kind they expected– certainly not one any of us were prepared for. 
Death gave birth today and nothing will ever be the same.
Fiction © Copyright Bailey Hunter
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
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More from Bailey Hunter:
Bailey is a publisher with Dark Recesses Press.

DeadWomenInLoveCover_FrontDead Women in Love

Harvey Drago, Intangible Private Eye, is back in DEAD WOMEN IN LOVE.

Join him as he investigates the brutal death of a history professor, as well as the disappearances of several ladies of the evening. Both cases turn out to be related to the mysterious human-shaped piles of ashes being left around Nashville, and the decades-old theft of priceless Egyptian relics, including the mummy of a nefarious pharaoh. Supernatural Investigations Bureau agent Amy Marten weaves a seductive spell over our hero, as does the oddly rejuvenated Pam, his long-time occasional paramour. Is it his body they’re after, or his heart? Maybe his soul? Or is it something even more intimate than that?

 

DarkRecessesPress.com

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