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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Death by the Door Handle
by Asena Lourenco

The silver details standing boldly
As the wind whistles brushing past coldly
Time stands still as the metal rusts
And humans slowly turn to dust
Melting away, not one left behind
But the young, fresh eager minds
Who struggle to live all alone
As one handle strips human flesh to bone
Curse or not the evil spell will remain
As all will remember the death-bringing Pain.
Fiction © Copyright Asena Lourenco
Image courtesy of Nina D’Arcangela

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More about Asena Lourenco:

Asena Lourenco is 11 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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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Tawny Kipphorn @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Redemption
by Tawny Kipphorn

The feeling of dread washed over me as the heavy wooden door scraped against the aging floor. I peered into what looked to be a cellar, but all I could see was the face of darkness staring back at me. My steps were weary as I made my way down the rickety staircase, down into a sea of pitch black. As I attempted to scan my surroundings, I was pushed to my knees by an icy hand upon my back, and a feeling of great sickness. I opened my mouth to scream but there was no sound. I looked down to see a swirling, black mass being purged from my body.
This inky blackness hovered around me and throughout me with a fluidity that seemed impossible, unnatural. When I finally managed to stand on my feet once more, I ran as fast as I could. I had no idea where to run, only that I’d feel safe once I was out of this place, beneath the glow of the full moon. I had just enough time to catch my breath when I heard approaching footsteps from behind me. I turned around expecting to see someone who could help save me from this hell I had found, but instead the person I saw was me, only she wasn’t me.
She looked just like me, except her limbs were sewn to her body. Her mouth had been stitched closed. Her eyes were massive pools of emptiness. Her face bore expressionless features. This horrific demonic version of myself was relentless in its pursuit of my soul. Before I had much time to think, I grabbed an axe and swung like a madwoman at my beastly twin. I can recall screaming the entire time until I saw at my feet, a vision of absolute gore.
There were severed limbs scattered before me, but instead of blood, there were massive pools of the inky black matter. I had no way of knowing on this day that I’d slay my biggest demon, the dark within myself. The final showdown with the woman in the mirror. A warped and insidious reflection. The day of reckoning. The day of my redemption.
Fiction © Copyright Tawny Kipphorn
Image courtesy of Nina D’Arcangela

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More from Author Tawny Kipphorn:

A Shadow of Autumn

Fall—a season as beautiful as it is foreboding. A Shadow of Autumn takes you back to childhood nostalgia while peeling away the mask to reveal things that haunt your worst nightmares. Within these pages, you’ll find the usual denizens of the holiday—demons, witches, ghosts, and bloodsuckers—along with strange and unknown creatures lurking everywhere from innocuous cornfields and pumpkin patches to basement hatches and high school dances. These fourteen tales of fall magic and Halloween horrors will keep you looking over your shoulder long after the last light of October has waned. Don’t say we didn’t warn you…

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 Lori R. Lopez @LoriRLopez @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction #poem #poetry

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Locked Door
by Lori R. Lopez

Never tell young people what not to do
without fully explaining the reasons why . . .
It compels them to wonder, speculate, obsess,
racked by suspense until they could die.
Imagination may be a terrifying thing
if allowed to go completely wild
and flow unchecked or grow like vines,
untamed as a forest in the head of a child.
I was ten when I rode the train to visit
my Great-Aunt Faye on a break from school.
She claimed I would love the manor and yard.
There was just one catch, a single rule:
“Keep away from the Family Crypt, my dear.
You must never go near or set foot within!”
The more she stressed, the more intense
did interest prickle beneath my skin.
An idyllic serene estate for a kid
such as I to quietly romp and roam,
who was seldom bored; who didn’t mind
being whisked so far away from home.
The kind who entertained herself,
needing little guidance or attention,
minimal fuss and maintenance;
who often provided her own invention.
Pacing the garden, sitting under an arbor,
visiting the Duck Pond or Aviary,
I concocted the craziest suspicions and fears,
ranging from morbid to truly scary.
If only I could peek and satisfy
my seething and burning curiosity
that burgeoned tall and jungle-thick,
rooted as deep as the highest tree.
At last I could bear this suspense no longer
and tiptoed with the furtivest treads —
afraid, aghast, abysmally alone —
approaching that bunker of doom and dreads.
One tiny look! Who would even know?
I justified breaking the only request . . .
In fact, I believed it to be a game,
a challenge to see if I passed her test.
Auntie Faye was terribly gray and proper.
She couldn’t keep an eye on me all day.
What would it hurt to stick my head in
for the quickest of glimpses then dart away?
As I came very close to the stony facade,
a timid adolescent paused to breathe,
but notions and mysteries crowded her brain
of the treasures and marvels old tombs bequeath!
Though I wasn’t that greedy or needy a girl,
it became an adventure to open the vault,
no matter how strident the warning still rang.
I was merely a child, not completely at fault.
To my sudden dismay I beheld a large bolt
securing the entrance snug and well.
Then realized with another jolt, its door
had been locked like a dungeon or cell.
The bodies trapped could not get out
yet I could get in, which made me smile.
I was eager to meet these occupants,
however gruesome the cause of exile.
Never once hesitating to think it over
and wonder why the outside was sealed;
reaching for the latch I heard a voice
address me by name. Both eyelids peeled.
“Unhinder the portal and liberate us.”
A rasping tone from a crackly throat.
“Confined for ages in cold and damp,
what spirit remains is gone to bloat.
Be kind now, strip that iron aside,
for it isn’t doing our bones any good!
This Charnel House of pent-up souls
permits less comfort than a box of wood.
Open up, sweet child, before I scream!
Charity. ’Tis what you are called.
You must grant it, at an elder’s behest.
Obey my request. Or be appalled . . .
We will haunt your every waking hour
till you wish you had, I guarantee.
And then your sleep shall the horde devour.
Unfetter this door, you miserable flea!”
By this time the impulse had all but faded.
I must confess I felt no desire
to grant these belated beyond-the-grave wishes,
and ignore a plea that echoed dire
to stay away from the burial chamber —
have nothing to do with what festered inside.
It wasn’t too much that a grownup might ask.
Now I yearned for somewhere safe to hide.
How I longed for a normal summer vacation,
at the seaside or woods, a nice hotel.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” Four simple words
that resulted in a disturbing yell:
“YOU CAN’T OR YOU WON’T?”
The tomb fairly shook with an eerie rage
contradicting ghosts are flimsy like smoke.
I fled the venom, the bottled rampage . . .
And after that listened a lot better to my aunt
while keeping her company throughout the day.
Talking and laughing, exchanging a few secrets.
Walking, playing cards. She taught me Croquet.
I will never regret the moments we shared —
a collection of memories to store like gold —
as I guarded my distance from the grim mausoleum.
There is something of value in doing what you’re told.
Fiction © Copyright Lori R. Lopez
Image courtesy of Nina D’Arcangela

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More from Lori R. Lopez:

Cornstalker

Trouble with a capital C! The tale begins when a car stops and a body is tossed into the Corn. But this is not just any crop. It is the battleground of a legendary creature who haunts fields along desolate highways, only when stalks are tall and the blood of brothers has been spilled in the soil — rising above the Corn like a burly Scarecrow.

A novelette of betrayal and retribution, “Cornstalker” pits a female truckdriver and a man with blood on his hands against a mythical beast summoned by a band of men wearing feathers and paint.

Jane is searching for her younger brother, who disappeared along a highway bordered by many ears. The last message on a sputtering cellphone had been something about a monster. So she took over his rig, coincidentally called “The Monster”, a heavy-duty black beast with a long snout, double chrome stacks and a reinforced grill. Anxiously prowling the roads of The Cornbelt, she picks up a stranger who could be dangerous. Our heroine may need to unleash her own demons to emerge from the Corn once she goes in.

First appearing in the 2014 anthology DEAD HARVEST, “Cornstalker” is part of Lori’s SPOOKTACULAR TALES collection.

Available on Amazon!

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

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Nina D’Arcangela @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Brew
by Nina D’Arcangela

The sizzle surrendering to silence, the flare diminishing to nothing more than a ghost upon his eyes, Darius wondered at the concoction brewing this Witch’s eve. An elixir he was charged with dispensing to all sons of Barecrest Village. The cloaked man before him would reveal nothing of its effects, only that he must see it consumed. The apprentice, far too dutiful to question, corked the final vial of odiferous liquor and set about his duty. Task complete, he returned both ashen and quivering to find his Master holding two goblets in hand. “Wizard or Warlock, which shall it be?”
Fiction © Copyright Nina D’Arcangela
Image courtesy of Nina D’Arcangela 

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More from Nina D’Arcangela:

Mental Ward: EXPERIMENTS

A dank basement, shadow filled hallways, the deep echo of a metal latch being thrown while faint screams are heard… These are the things you might experience in a place where the unspeakable happens, where conscientious action and moral turpitude turn a blind eye in the interest of advancing one’s own personal pursuits in the most deranged and unjustifiable manner. The type of place where power corrupts, and depravity runs rampant among those imbued with it. A place where the unfortunate are abandoned to the devices of those who convince themselves their actions are in the best interest of science.

Mental Ward: Experiments is a collection of ten short stories that demonstrate the worst of humanity’s ambition in the interest of ‘civilized’ advancement. Step into a world where sanity is left behind, and horror is what the doctor ordered!

Available on Amazon!

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

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

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Locked Away
by Lydia Prime

These metal confines couldn’t contain my rage, no certainly not.
I laugh ‘till I cry, and sit inside while bodies begin to rot.
Yes, yes, I’m in here and they’re out there, but my wrath has endless reach.
The end was nigh before they called goodbye; lessons I’m pleased to teach.
This silly gate, those inept fools; my laughter has sealed their fate.
No escape for now – my dreams will be enough to satiate.
Memories blur and centuries pass as I sit inside my cell,
some day, I will be found and unto Earth I will deliver Hell.
Fiction © Copyright Lydia Prime
Image courtesy of Nina D’Arcangela

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More about Lydia Prime:

Lydia grew up in a small, ‘Mayberry,’ sort of town, in New Jersey. She thoroughly enjoys gummy bears and laughing through the darkest depths of life. More often than not, she writes about demons and monsters, however, being a recovering addict tends to turn inner demons into fearsome foes to be fought beyond the constraints of the mind. ‘Sometimes,’ she states, ‘what’s inside, is scarier than anything reality throws at you.’

Please visit Lydia on Facebook for more info. 

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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 Juliet Amequohi @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction #poetry #poem

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


The Depth of Fire

by Juliet Amequohi

Time and space fall apart
For misty fingers coated in dusk
Among screeching gulls and pounding surf
In this place of forgotten magic.
Before the sun goes down
You can see them in the winter months—
There are always shadows
Where nothing and no one stands.
They fly like the clouds,
But the shadows remain
Even when horizon to horizon
Holds only endless, unmarked blue.
The darkness is bold;
They do not seek to hide
In cold winds of stormy skies
Or among the rocky tide pools of this place of lost time.
Their shadows sound the dark waves,
And shake the very earth.
The deep waters beckon,
Teasing with their secrets.
One day I will swim far and deep
To see what they have hidden.
And when I reach the sandy bottom,
I will grasp the sky with their talons.
Fiction © Copyright Juliet Amequohi
Image courtesy of Nina D’Arcangela

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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 Scarlett R. Algee @ScarlettRAlgee @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

A Kiss of Flesh
by Scarlett R. Algee

The cold iron handle of the mausoleum’s door shifts at my touch, unlocked, and I pause. Doubt gnaws at my gut as the package inside my coat shifts, and for the thousandth time I wonder what I’m doing. My hands bear fresh calluses and blisters from the spade, garden soil clinging to the whorls of my skin.
My fingers cramp as I open the door. A sprinkle of rust flakes shower down on me, but the squeak of the hinges is a whisper. Inside, all of the unused niches in the marble are filled with her little flickering lamps, their smoke twining up through the gratework in the ceiling. Inside, on the solitary slab, she sits cross-legged in a ragged white dress; her bare feet are long, graceful, the nails painted with a dark gloss. Her hands lie in her lap, palms down; but unlike their nether counterparts, her fingernails are torn short and caked with dirt.
Her eyes are closed, her breathing even. Waiting for me, I think at first, before I realize: asleep.
A leaf, brown and crumbling, rests in the black mass of her hair. I pluck it out. She opens her eyes.
“Claude.” Her voice is dry reeds and disuse, but she smiles.
“Delphine.” A grin comes to my own lips before I remember the bundle in my coat, wrapped in oilcloth so it won’t leak. Ghoul, monster, woman: she’s more beautiful than the last time I saw her; more beautiful than the first time, when my spade broke the surface of a grave and she looked up at me with a rib in her jaws. Infinitely more so than the woman I’m forced to call my wife. “I brought you something.”
Delphine slides to her feet, fits herself into my arms like a missing piece of me, kisses me with the sweet foulness of her mouth. When she pulls back, the light glistens on the long sharp facets of her canines. “Show me.”
The oilcloth crinkles as I retrieve it, as I put it in her hands to open, to release the perfume of decay. She studies the small contents, the plump but blackening flesh; she spreads the tiny limbs wide, and her mouth creases in uncertainty. “You would bring this to me?”
I swallow, dry-mouthed. Never before has she refused one of my putrefying gifts, although never before has one been quite so personal. Still, I hope, I’ve known her too long, too well, for her to hate me. “Yes.”
“Claude.” She lifts her yellow eyes from the lifeless babe to my face, questioning. “This is your son?”
“He lived an hour, Delphine. It’s been five days.” When had her voice dropped to a whisper? When had mine? I cup her cheek in my hand, smearing earth across her skin. “I can’t give him a better resting place.”
“You honor me too much,” she murmurs, and her grip on my dead child’s body has become tender, maternal. She should have been a mother; she should have been a mother to this boy. He would have lived. “Will you stay?”
Tomorrow, in my garden, I’ll rebury a little bundle of bones. Tonight, my place is here. “Yes.”
Delphine cradles the infant to her breast with one hand, wraps the fingers of the other around my wrist. She digs in. “And when there are other sons?”
I lean in first, so that our foreheads touch; then I pull away to look her in the eyes. I’m going to Hell for this, and she’s worth every step. “Then perhaps there will be other gifts.”
Her eyes soften, along with the line of her mouth. She lets me go. “Shut the door.”
I do as she says. And I hear it while I’m turned away, the tearing-silk sound of her teeth sliding into flesh, and I smile.
Fiction © Copyright Scarlett R. Algee
Image courtesy of Nina D’Arcangela

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More from author Scarlett R. Algee:

The Lift: Nine Stories of Transformation, Volume One

The hall is dark and the overhead light flickers. Sounds echo, and there’s a creaking and clanging that gets louder as you stand in the semi-dark. The elevator opens and you’re offered a ride. Step inside and ride it to the story chosen for your transformation. Don’t be afraid, for Victoria, the mysterious girl who operates The Lift, waits to guide you. Set in the same world as the award nominated audio drama, The Lift’s first written anthology features nine all new stories by fan favorite writers and special bonus content by creators Daniel Foytik and Cynthia Lowman. The collection is brought to life with beautiful illustrations by Jeanette Andromeda for each story.

Available on Amazon!

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