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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Nov_Image02World on Fire
by A.F. Stewart

No one liked the painting.
Some critics called it derivative, a bad pastiche of Georgia O’Keefe. Some called it kitsch, and others too occult. Some even went as far as to label it blasphemous (possibly in a vain attempt to drum up controversy and a sale).
But no one understood the true meaning.
No one expected what was coming.
All they knew, all they felt, was that it disturbed them.
It began on New Year’s Eve, on the last day of the worst year the world had known in decades. The candle inside the painting flickered. Then it burned. Flames licked at the canvas, consumed the painting, then the gallery and the people inside. It spread along the block of shops, on to apartments, houses, government buildings. Country after country, continent after continent. Nothing doused the flames, nothing survived the fires.
Day after day, it kept growing. It kept burning.
Until the entire world was ash.
Fiction © Copyright A.F. Stewart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
 

line_separator2

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!

line_separator2

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 Marge Simon @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Nov_Image01
Woman at the Window
by Marge Simon

The bench inside is cold, the train station deserted. Trains don’t run here anymore, obviously. Earlier, he’d taken a couple of ‘ludes with some meth. Definitely coming down off it now. He feels sluggish and tired, good a place as any to crash. He looks at the bag on the floor. It had been pretty easy, almost too easy. Old man in that liquor store, he didn’t put up any protest while he filled the sack with bills. A shame this had to be the guy’s last day. The take wasn’t very much, but it’d buy him enough stash to make a profit.
Around him, the floor is littered with refuse –candy wrappers, used condoms, cigarette butts. He’s reminded of Delany’s Dahlgren, in which a city is cut off from the rest of the world by a mysterious catastrophe. He can never remember how it ends. Lighting a joint, he shuffles over to the window.  Just then, the panes begin rattling. Distant and low, then louder –the wail of a train. The floor quakes with the rumble of wheels on steel. It slows to a stop. With a start, he notices the doors to the platform are chained shut, but he grabs and shakes them anyway. Fuck! Well, there’s his answer. Trains are still running – at least, this one is. He doesn’t plan on leaving town just yet anyway.
The train starts up again and pulls away. Someone must’ve gotten off because there’s a figure outside the filthy window. He can see hands on the glass. A woman’s voice, “Please, let me in!”   Nothing he could do, even if he cared. He sure as shit doesn’t want company right now. He yells “FUCK OFF!” But she doesn’t leave.
Gradually her voice changes, deepens, continuing in a clear, hypnotic monotone. He decides he likes her voice. Suddenly, she’s beside him. Vaguely he wonders how she got in, but it’s not important. She is telling him not to worry, all will be so wonderful very soon. “What beautiful hands you have,” she says.  He puts one of his beautiful fingers in his mouth, sucks. It tastes delicious …
***
A squad car pulls up, two officers emerge.
Officer #1: “This is the place, all right. It’s known to be haunted, that’s why the boys were there, something about a dare. They swore there’s a corpse inside.”
Officer #2: “Yeah, the doors are open. Remember, they claimed it was already unlocked. All they did was give ‘em a push.”
Officer #1: “There he is, over on that bench. Looks young, maybe nineteen, twenty. Blood all over his hands and shirt. Those kids must’ve rifled his bag. At least they turned the money in. What’ll you bet it’s from that liquor store robbery and homicide the other day?”
Officer #2: “Yeah, –hey, what’s this in his mouth?” Henry reaches down and pulls something out. “It’s his index finger, ragged at the end. See? Looks chewed on.”
Officer #1: “Christ! But that can’t be what killed him. Looks like he’s just seen a ghost. Maybe a lady ghost, smell that perfume?” He starts to laugh, but the wail of a train horn cuts him off.
Fiction © Copyright Marge Simon
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

More from Marge Simon:

tdd_ms.jpg

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!

line_separator2

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

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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Nov_Image04Macabre Reminders
by Elaine Pascale

The ashes were barely enough to fill a snack-size zip-lock bag. I keep what remains of Louise in a vase on a shelf, surrounded by her trophies. While the trophies are a macabre reminder, they are also a reminder of Louise.
For years, I was clueless as to the origin of the items I would find on my front stoop in the mornings. There would be key fobs, socks, water bottles, and car deodorizers. The one constant was a satisfied cat sitting proudly beside her finds.
One night, I followed Louse and watched as she took post in a tree: a bullet-free sniper. From her ledge she “hunted,” watching car after car pass on the windy road beneath. Who could say what made her suddenly leap into the road at such a perfect angle that the driver had no option but to swerve. The dynamics of physics were on the feline’s side as the swerve would finalize into the boulder-lined shoulder.
That night, obviously, I tried to help, but it was beyond my efforts. I watched as the cat slithered her way through the wreckage, stepping over mangled bodies to pick her prize. I remembered reading of many accidents on that road and of the local government working to find both cause and a solution. The sirens that had often woken me from sleep were not part of my dreams at all.
One night, her calculations must have been off as Louise did not return home and my front stoop was bare. A kind stranger read the tag on the collar still attached to the bloody body and came to tell me where she could be retrieved. I decided on ashes as she had never been a stationary creature so burial felt cruel and I decided the ashes should remain amongst her collection.
Even after the ashes were instated, the trophies continued. In the morning I would find knickknacks on my stoop and my heart would be at peace.
Rumor has started about a ghost cat that can be seen on the road at night; the accidents continue.
While the accidents are a macabre reminder, they are also a reminder of Louise.
Fiction © Copyright Elaine Pascale
Image courtesy of  Pixabay.com

line_separator2

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…

line_separator2

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

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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Nov_Image03

Door to Nowhere
by Suzanne Madron

The door led to nowhere. It was exactly thirteen feet from the ground and as far back as anyone could remember, it had always opened onto nothing. Not that anyone from the village had ever see it open at all.
The occupants of the building claimed there was a wall where the door should be located and not even a floor or staircase level with where the opening would be on the outside of the building. As far as they could tell, the door must not have been used for hundreds of years. And life went on, with the curiosity of the village’s inhabitants unsatisfied, though some of the villagers attempted to open the door through use of ladders and liquor-coated bravado.
The day the door opened was the day the villagers wished they had never spoken of it, never passed the rumors and stories on, never objected to the application of the building’s owners to wall up the door on the outside of the building, and never laughed at the suggestion of the group of drunk men with their ladder who claimed they would open the door.
It was too late for any of that, now. Too late to go back and erase the portal, too late to forget the stories, too late to stop the drunkards with their tools and ladder, and far too late to close that gaping black space in the wall of the building. Too late to stop the strange and long-legged creatures as they emerged from the shadows of the open door.
Fiction © Copyright Suzanne Madron
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

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!

line_separator2

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 Naching T. Kassa @NachingKassa @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Nov_Image02

The Summoning
by Naching T. Kassa

Nalin Kratides woke in darkness. A chill, as cold as the dead, pervaded the room. She blinked against the black. What had woken her?
Dim ambient light from the streetlamp outside revealed the figure of Detective John Warren lying on her right side. He snored softly. Was it he who’d cried out in his sleep? Had he dreamed of his murdered mother again? 
“Nalin,” a voice whispered near her ear. 
Nalin glanced to the left. A long tunnel materialized before her. At the end of it, a candle flared to life. The skull came next. Long, thin horns rose from the bleached skull of the ibex. Blank eyes stared. As suddenly as they appeared, they vanished.
“Who’s there?” Nalin asked.
“Call me, Celia,” the voice replied.
“How can I help you?”
“He didn’t murder me.”
“Who didn’t murder you?”
“Come, and I will tell all.”
The sheets rustled as Nalin rose from the bed. A hand grasped the bare skin of her arm and she turned.
“What’s going on?” Warren asked.
“Spirit talk. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Be careful.”
She leaned forward and kissed his lips. “Always.”
She rose and stepped into the tunnel. Three steps took her to a small apartment with a skyline view of New York. The place looked as though a tornado had touched down in the living room. Broken glass littered the hardwood floor, the furniture had been turned over, blood stained the white sofa. Celia stood beside it. Her pale skin and golden hair gleamed in the light of dawn. She gazed at Nalin with sad, blue eyes.
“He didn’t do it,” she said.
“Who?”
“The young man they arrested. I don’t know his name.” 
“If he didn’t, who did?”
“A policeman. He followed me home. Said he needed to question me about the robbery at the gallery where I work. He came in and when I turned, he attacked me. We struggled. He stabbed me here—on the couch.”
“Are you sure it was a policeman?”
“He showed me his badge when he met me at the door.”
Nalin crossed to the couch and peered at the stain which marred the cushions. It seemed strange, lighter than most. “Then…you know his name.”
“Yes. He was a detective. His name is John Warren.”
Nalin looked up into Celia’s eyes. They glowed ghostly. “You’re sure? What did he look like?”
“Handsome. Green eyes. Brown hair. He has a scar. It runs through his eyebrow on the left side.”
“Is he right or left-handed?”
“I’m not sure. Left, I think. Yes, left. He held the knife in his left hand.”
Nalin had circled the living room while they spoke. She halted when she reached a small end table on the other side of the sofa. She stared at the empty surface. 
“How did you find me, Celia?”
“I asked for help. The tunnel appeared and showed me you.”
“You didn’t see Warren through the tunnel? It didn’t show him to you?”
“No. Just you.”
“Am I right or left-handed, Celia?”
“What?”
“Something I’ve noticed about the tunnel. It shows the world through a mirror. Things which are right-handed appear left, and so on. I’ve gotten used to it. I don’t think you have.”
“What? What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”
“You saw Warren in my bedroom. The scar is on his right side, not his left.”
“No, you have to believe me. He killed me.”
“If you’re dead, I’m Abraham Lincoln.”
The melancholy drained from Celia’s eyes. They grew hard and cold as flint.
“Damn. You’re smarter than I thought.”
“And you’re arrogant, like all of demonkind. Which one are you?”
“Tut, tut. Giving a name gives control. I won’t make that mistake. How did you know I’m a demon?”
“You have thin blood. A little too light to be mortal. Also, you summoned the tunnel using a candle and an ibex skull.”
“Double damn. You saw that?”
“Clear as day.”
“Then why did you come?”
“To see what you’re up to. Wasn’t nice to bring Warren into it.”
The demon smiled. “He’s your Achilles Heel, isn’t he? Your kryptonite. How long would you last if I snuffed his life?”
“I think you’d die first.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No. A promise.”
Nalin reached out. The ibex skull appeared in her hand as she snatched it off the empty end table. She lunged forward.
The demon shrieked as the horn penetrated her chest. She fell to the floor and the world dissolved.
When Nalin opened her eyes, she found herself in her own room. Warren stood half-dressed beside her.
“You alright?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s not my blood.”
“What the hell happened?”
“It was a demon—”
“A demon! Why didn’t you call me?”
“It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I stabbed her with an ibex horn.”
Warren’s eyes widened. “She must’ve been a nasty one.”
“What she said was nasty.”
“What did she say?”
“She insulted my kryptonite.”
“Huh?”
“Nevermind.” She moved close and kissed his lips. “Let’s take a shower.”
Warren grinned. “Damn.”
Fiction © Copyright Naching T. Kassa
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
 

line_separator2

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!

line_separator2

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

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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Nov_Image01The Other Me…
by Ela Lourenco

At night I can finally shed my aura
Finally, free to throw off the happy, kind ‘me’
And head past the elegant homey décor
Down to the basement.
Down into the bowels of my house and my soul
Where everything is in abject contrast to my ‘life’ upstairs
Here is my place, this is my time…
Through the opaque window in the darkest recess
Lives the other me
The one who was before I tricked her
And swapped realms
It is better than anything on TV
Getting to watch her screams as she tries to survive my world
Shame none of her friends or family will ever know…
Fiction © Copyright Ela Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

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!

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Oct_Image04Pluto in Scorpio
by Sheikha A.

They called her Pluto;
she was Persephone
holding love like thunder
in the sway of her hips.
She fell like purple flames
from the sky into the womb
of fire; death lit her body
in green spears of life.
She exploded as meteorite
landing in the arms of Hades
like destruction – nurturing –
clear quartz of seduction.
She walked rings of death,
footprints sparking embers
in the earth of ice – sheer
as cold pearls snatched
from their oysters’ mouths.
She burned in love
like a spiritless shroud,
black as moonless nights,
her skin shimmered blue
against stars defying her
beauty; streams of occult-
laden potions coarsed
her face; webs of veins
masqueraded her skin,
she knew these flames
bodies walked through for her,
starving for seeds – carnelian
delicacy like rare harem virgins.
Spring loomed, bare posterior
fragile like mysteries, blooms
unfurled. Flower of summer
quivered in her hands;
she pulled its neck
out of the resisting soil
and watched earth chasm.
The sky was cast like glaciers –
there were scores to settle.
Fiction © Copyright Sheikha A.
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

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!

line_separator2

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

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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Oct_Image02The Apartment Next Door
by Asena Lourenco

The wooden door slammed in the face of the cold breeze, keeping out its unwelcome guest. He kicked his black boots off lackadaisically as leaves of all shades scattered across the floor, letting out a sigh of exhaustion as he walked to the skinny armchair. He planted his ankles on the small glass table in the centre of the room as he reached for the television remote. His growing dark pupils stared past a curtain of hair. A strangled scream sounded from behind the white pillars on the right. His chocolates coloured eyes darted to face the sound but were only greeted with the dark night. With a shiver, he lifted his feet and stumbled over to the pillars, lamp in hand. A single dress floated in the night, awaiting his arrival. A few moments later, a beautiful woman with jet-black hair emerged from the dress, her face not in sight…
 The camera footage is still played over and over again by puzzled police officers in an attempt to solve this mystery but no one can figure it out. Some neighbours say that they can still hear his unfinished scream from the apartment, next door.
Fiction © Copyright Asena Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

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!

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kim Richards @Kim_Richards @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Oct_Image03Smokin’ Jack
by Kim Richards

Another damned wildfire skirted across a California hillside. Dry grass, long dead from triple digit daytime temperatures and lack of rain, fueled its hunger. Winds whipped it into a blow torch of howling frenzy. That was at 3:30 a.m. The sun rose behind a wall of smoke which gave it an eerie, brilliant red glow. Ash flitted and swirled down like snowflakes.
Five members of a fire crew from Australia stomped along the charred remains of a farm. They were part of a team who answered the call for help on another fire just last week. This morning, their goal was to put out spot fires as they cropped up and disperse embers still glowing. The unspoken part of their job was to locate remains of the unlucky as they went along. They found plenty so far but nothing of the human variety…yet. They each knew, with the speed this Jack Fire sparked and grew in a few pre-dawn hours, there was a high probability someone didn’t evacuate in time.
“Well, look at this,” the tall red head called out. He pointed with the tip of his long fire hook. Although his gear muffled the sound, his voice came clear enough over the eerily quiet atmosphere.
The others joined him to gather near a pile of blackened logs.
“Huh,” said the heavy-set firefighter as he leaned on the handle of his heavy rake. “Do you suppose that’s why this is called the Jack Fire?”
All five men chuckled. They stared at a bright orange carved pumpkin, perched atop the burnt wooden remains of a front porch. The Jack-O-Lantern was unscathed by the fire. White smoke billowed from inside—escaping through its eye holes and between its jagged teeth. It grinned at them. “If it wasn’t before, it is now.” The youngest of them said. “Funny how a fire shows mercy to the strangest things.”
The Jack-O-Lantern coughed, sending a small plume of smoke skyward.
Each man looked to the others for confirmation. None of them were willing to be ‘that guy’.
Red head pursed his lips and poked at the ground with his hook.
Rake man turned aside. “I need water,” he said.
When the Jack-O-Lantern coughed again, the young one’s eyes bugged. “It’s…it’s laughing.”
All five firefighters backed up and faced the thing with their tools in hand. Then they all spoke at once.
“Damn smoke inhalation.”
“Only in America.”
“Something more toxic than usual burned.”
“I need a beer…no, whiskey.”
“It’s…it’s a DEMON!” The young firefighter screamed as the pumpkin’s surface rippled.
“Damn straight I am!” The smoking Jack-O-Lantern launched itself at the young man. It hit him in the head with a thud and sent him sprawling to the ground. Its smiling mouth widened and swallowed the man’s head.
Instantly the young man’s screams turned to high pitched shrieks. His body thrashed wildly upon the soot covered ground. The smoke spewing from the thing’s eye holes thickened.
The other men struck the pumpkin with their heavy rakes and fire hooks or kicked it with their boots. Every single hit bounced off as if it landed against a rubber surface.
“Oh, my God,” the red head exclaimed. From inside the Jack-O-Lantern’s eyes a bright flame erupted. Within seconds, it traveled the length of the man’s body and turned him into a flaming log. He stopped moving. There was no mercy this time. His body was momentarily consumed, leaving a grinning Jack-O-Lantern amidst his remains.
The other four men didn’t stick around to see more. They fled down the hillside, leaving their implements behind. When questioned later about what happened. The only one who spoke was the tall red head who said, “It was Smokin’ Jack.”
Fiction © Copyright Kim Richards
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

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

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Sheri White @sheriw1965 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Oct_Image03Every Day is Halloween Now
by Sheri White

Sam carved another pumpkin, then lit it up.
Just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that…
Another day in his life, in a world where Halloween never ended. He was Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, except nobody else inhabited this world with Sam.
It took him a while to accept what was happening.
The first Halloween night was completely normal. He took his twin boys trick-or-treating while his wife Amanda handed out candy. He greeted other parents walking the neighborhood with his kids, admired costumes, and enjoyed scary decorations in the crisp October air.
When he woke up the next morning, Amanda was not beside him. He got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen to get coffee, but she wasn’t there either.
Figuring she was helping the boys get dressed, Sam headed back upstairs. But their bedroom was empty.
“Amanda?” Sam called. “Are you home?”
He waited a few seconds for an answer, then went to the garage. He started the car and turned on the radio to check the news. Static crackled through the speakers, no matter what station he chose.
He drove around town, looking for his family, checking places they could be. Maybe they went out to breakfast? He looked at iHop and Denny’s, but he didn’t see her car.
As he cruised around the town, Sam’s hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.
My god, where is everyone?
He pulled into the Target shopping center, encouraged by other cars parked throughout the lot. He jogged up to the Target, tapping one of the red concrete spheres for luck as he always did. The automatic doors didn’t open. He banged on the window.
“Hey! Hello? Is anybody in there?” He leaned against the window and cupped his hands around his eyes. Although the electricity was on, he didn’t see anybody walking around.
“Please! Anyone!”
He slapped the window then ran to the other stores in the shopping center, screaming for someone to answer him.
Finally, Sam dropped to his knees on the sidewalk in front of Old Navy, slapping the ground and crying.
***
Now Sam spends his days carving pumpkins and eating chocolate, hoping that next time he wakes up he will have his life and family back.
Fiction © Copyright Sheri White
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

More from Author Sheri White:

sw`Don’t Turn Out the Lights: A Tribute to Alvin Schwartz’s Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark

Featuring stories from R.L. Stine and Madeleine Roux, this middle grade horror anthology, curated by New York Times bestselling author and master of macabre Jonathan Maberry, is a chilling tribute to Alvin Schwartz’s Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.

Flesh-hungry ogres? Brains full of spiders? Haunted houses you can’t escape? This collection of 35 terrifying stories from the Horror Writers Association has it all, including ghastly illustrations from Iris Compiet that will absolutely chill readers to the bone.

So turn off your lamps, click on your flashlights, and prepare—if you dare—to be utterly spooked!

The complete list of writers: Linda D. Addison, Courtney Alameda, Jonathan Auxier, Gary A. Braunbeck, Z Brewer, Aric Cushing, John Dixon, Tananarive Due, Jamie Ford, Kami Garcia, Christopher Golden, Tonya Hurley, Catherine Jordan, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Alethea Kontis, N.R. Lambert, Laurent Linn, Amy Lukavics, Barry Lyga, D.J. MacHale, Josh Malerman, James A. Moore, Michael Northrop, Micol Ostow, Joanna Parypinksi, Brendan Reichs, Madeleine Roux, R.L. Stine, Margaret Stohl, Gaby Triana, Luis Alberto Urrea, Rosario Urrea, Kim Ventrella, Sheri White, T.J. Wooldridge, Brenna Yovanoff

Available on Amazon!

line_separator2

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