Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Rie Sheridan Rose @RieSheridanRose @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 23, 2018 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Clackety Clackety
by Rie Sheridan Rose

The rail running through Lost Acre Wood has been abandoned for ages. They quit running trains through there in the 70s. So, when Carter Essex pulled me aside after Spanish class and said, “Listen, dude…you’ve got to come to the Wood with me. I have something amazing to show you,” I thought why not?
“Sure. When do you want to go?”
“Saturday morning?”
“Sounds good.”
It was Thursday, and I had a test the next day, so I kinda forgot about the whole thing until he called me Friday night.
“We’re still going to the Wood tomorrow, right?”
“I said I’d go.” I was trying to hide the impatience. When I said I would do something, I did it.
“I’ll be there to pick you up at 8:00.”
“Why so early?”
“You’ll see.”
I sighed. Great. Saturdays were the only chance I got to sleep in, and now, I wasn’t even going to get that. “Okay. I’ll be ready.”
At exactly 8:00 the next morning, Carter pulled up in his clunky old jalopy. I could almost see the excitement radiating off him. His black hair fell over one glittering eye, and his fingers were drumming on the steering wheel. He was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with a red vest and black slacks.
“What’s with the get-up? You look like a cartoon villain.”
“All part of the surprise,” he murmured, leaning toward me. “You’ll love it.”
It made the rest of the ride rather awkward. I didn’t really like Carter at the best of times, and he was really starting to creep me out a bit.
“Don’t look at me like that, Sarah. This will be awesome.”
He stopped the car and reached into the back seat. “Here, put this on.” He handed me a long pink dress.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“C’mon…humor me.”
“You’ve gone a bit gonzo, Carter.”
“Just put it on, Sarah, please.” There was a naked pleading in his eyes that really surprised the hell out of me.
“Oh, all right.” I pulled the dress on over my jeans and T-shirt.
The minute I acquiesced, Carter’s face resumed its characteristic sneer. He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”
Trekking through the woods is hard enough at the best of times. He was making me do it in a long dress that caught on every fallen twig.
“Much further?” I was beginning to pant from the pace he was setting.
“Nah. Here, sit a minute. I have snacks.”
He gestured to a blanket spread on the ground. There was a picnic basket to one side, and a small cooler. Had he come out here at the crack of dawn to set this up?
I sat down on the blanket, and Carter handed me a glass.  He made a great show of opening a bottle of soda and pouring it into the glass. The cooler had done its job, and it was very refreshing after the hike out here.
“My mom made cupcakes.” He passed one over.
The cake was delicious, red velvet—my favorite.
“You know, I really liked you, Sarah. And then, you turned me down for prom.”
My arms and legs were heavy. Moving was becoming harder and harder to do.
“Lie back, Sarah. Rest. I know it’s early.”
I couldn’t help but oblige. As I fell backward across the blanket, my head connected solidly with something. Something that was vibrating. I heard a faint “clackety, clack” noise, coming closer.
I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn’t obey me.
Carter reached into the basket and pulled out two lengths of clothesline.  “I’ve always been a fan of melodrama,” he remarked casually, bending to tie my ankles, and then pulling my hands over my head to do the same. “Things are always so simple in melodrama. There are villains, and damsels in distress…and, in your case, no hero to get in the way.”
The clackety, clack was getting closer.
“So, I found some interesting facts in the library. Did you know that the last train to travel these tracks went off the rails in a fiery collision with a boulder that had fallen off that hill.” He pointed behind me. “The boiler exploded, the cars caught fire, everyone died.” He leaned in close again, his eyes glittering maniacally. “They say the ghost train still comes through here—and it does, I’ve seen it. Today, there will be another bump in the tracks.”
He laughed—I swear, he must have been practicing his evil villain cackle—and swept away towards the car.
I can feel the tracks vibrating even stronger now, and I think I just heard a whistle over the clackety, clackety, clack…
Fiction © Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

More from Author Rie Sheridan Rose:

Skellyman

“I have always preferred the supernatural in tales of horror, the knot between life and death. Rie Sheridan Rose’s Skellyman is cool and creepy. Her first horror novel is a chilling read.” — Charlee Jacob – Stoker winner, Best novel, “Dread in the Beast”

Brenda Barnett is trying to cope with raising her four-year-old daughter all alone after an accident tore her family in half. As she and Daisy go for a much-needed treat, the little girl spots a Skellyman on the corner.

This pivotal encounter leads to a wave of mounting terror as Brenda’s life begins to come undone around her. Who is the Skellyman? Why does he keep appearing? Can the sympathetic policeman Brenda turns to stop the madness before it is too late?

And why does Daisy insist that her dead brother is trying to tell them something important?

Available on Amazon!

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 Lydia Prime @LydiaPrime @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 22, 2018 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

25.000°N by 71.000°W
by Lydia Prime

On flights like this, I sometimes wondered about the saying, ‘The captain must go down with the ship.’ A trope overused for sea captains, those who frequently have a choice. For someone in my position there is almost never a feasible option but to go down with the aircraft. My co-pilot, Tim, interrupted my musings to point out there was a storm brewing just ahead. I assured him we would get through it unharmed. I strapped into my chair as we grew closer and advised Tim to do the same. He ignored me, as usual, then I made a call to the passengers to let them know we may be experiencing some turbulence; nothing to worry about.
As we flew through the storm clouds I glanced at our location, 25.000°N by 71.000°W. I noticed Timmy becoming unnerved. He was staring at our compass and fuel gauges, he seemed to be bothered by what he saw but I didn’t notice anything. He began rocking and frantically tapping at the gauges. He was whispering something, I just couldn’t make out what; I screamed to him, trying to get his attention. He turned towards me and seemed blank. The rocking stopped and his eyes glazed over with a smoky gray film.
“S-Sir…” He struggled on that word.
“Are you alright, son?” I asked him. He was shaking, his teeth chattering. He pointed out the window and my eyes followed. Another plane! X804 was soaring right at us. I pulled on the yoke to avoid the crash; as did they. The nose of their plane smashed right through ours, exposing us to the elements and causing electrical fires all around. Timmy flew from the cockpit. I watched helplessly as he flailed, trying to grab onto anything. I bit through my tongue and tasted the blood as it pooled in my mouth. Strapped in tightly, I braced myself for impact as the land below came closer; we were dropping, and there was nothing I could do.
As we slammed into the ground debris from the plan scattered. The engines blew and fires roared high into the sky. I crawled around, eyes closed, screaming in anger and fear. I could smell the burning bodies, the fuel leaking. How did I survive? I looked up to the storm clouds, I could still see X804 circling over head. What the..? Just then I felt something on my leg.
“Sir! Are you alright, sir?” Timmy asked. I jolted upright. “Your were screaming sir,” Timmy said.
“Sorry my boy, must of dozed off for a second! Glad we have you!” I joked, my chest still spasming; goose bumps were rolling through my skin.
“Sir there seems to be a storm stirring up in our path.”
“We’ll be alright, Tim, not to worry!”
On flights like this I sometimes wonder about the saying, ‘The captain must go down with the ship.’
Fiction © Copyright Lydia Prime
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

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. 

line_separator2

Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Selah Janel @SelahJanel @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 22, 2018 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


A Long Forgotten Memory
by Selah Janel

The day the boats came back by themselves was the day the whole village stopped going into the water. It was a hardship, of course, but not totally unexpected. Things happen, after all, especially when things are going well and the causes for that going well decide they want to be remembered and appreciated.
Sadly, no one was left who remembered why their ancestors used to fear the water. There were stories, oh yes, but there are always many reasons for stories. The wildlife and storms alone were reason only the bravest men took to the water in that part of the world. There may have been something else that sometimes sat on the tips of tongues, on the edges of thought, the barest hint of a long-forgotten memory. It wasn’t important, though. If it was important, surely someone in the village would have remembered.
It was a hardship, but the village got by. Travelers walked or used horses and carts. Hunters left for the forests and farmers farmed. Life went on with the children looking askance at the rotting boats during their comings and goings and shuddering a little, but save for that and the whispers under covers during the darkest nights and the loss of tradition, life adapted and went on. They were lucky, after all, to be in a part of the world with so many resources. They didn’t have to depend on just the water, so why had they ever been so foolish to begin with? Imagine if they’d been diversifying from the start!
They were pleased with themselves, proud even. The failing of mortals, that and short lives that make them forget what’s come before.
One night, the rains pelted down and the sea levels rose. Even then, even then most of the village were tucked away in their houses and huts, dry and relieved save for those that lived closest to shore.
Their screams weren’t heard under the thunder, nor were the squelching, rhythmic footsteps that trod through the narrow village streets. Indeed, all the villagers really heard was rain pelting the windows, rattling on the roof, rain and more rain, rain enough to drive one mad. It just didn’t quit, not for days, it felt like.
In the middle of all that, just as water began to pool under the doors of those on higher ground, in the thick of all that saliva-warm, drenching, get-everywhere rain late, late into the night – so late it was right during the devil’s time –
Doors rattled.
It wasn’t a knocking, per say, but a demand for entry, a demand for recognition, a demand for appreciation, a demand for knowing.
Whether the villagers opened their doors or not, whether they faced down the storm or hid, the things from the sea came in anyway.
And only then did the villagers remember, though it took much blood and pain to revive those ancient, long-forgotten thoughts.
Fiction © Copyright Selah Janel
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

More from Author Selah Janel:

Mooner

Like many young men at the end of the 1800s, Bill signed on to work in a logging camp. The work is brutal, but it promised a fast paycheck with which he can start his life. Unfortunately, his role model is Big John. Not only is he the camp’s hero, but he’s known for spending his pay as fast as he makes it. On a cold Saturday night they enter Red’s Saloon to forget the work that takes the sweat and lives of so many men their age. Red may have plans for their whiskey money, but something else lurks in the shadows. It watches and badly wants a drink that has nothing to do with alcohol. Can Bill make it back out the shabby door, or does someone else have their own plans for his future?

Available on Amazon!

line_separator2

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

The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Marge Simon @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 21, 2018 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


A Good Wine
by Marge Simon

An old woman stands boning fish. She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. It leaves a trail of silver scales that match the streaks in her hair. The bones are piled on old newspapers she’s never read. She can’t see the tiny print, only the headline: World Famine. There are always plenty of fish, Thom says. Even after the last bombs that ruined the farmlands. “Fish are like the news, something to get by on.”
Where the famine is, she doesn’t know. They have no neighbors, no visitors. Her son makes sure to pay the bills, he’s good with figures. All this is done by mail, but no postman has come for days.  Thom usually leaves his boots on the porch, but not this time. She drops the knife when she sees his face.
“Bad news?” He slumps in a chair, staring at something distant. He’ll tell her when he’s ready, always has. She returns to the fish, arranges a row of neat fillets and covers it with a plate. There are a few potatoes left. They’ll do, if he has brought the shrimp. She doesn’t want to bother him right now, but she must ask. When she gets no response, she touches his arm.
“Don’t,” he says, pulling away. “They’re gone.” She hears this but doesn’t understand. It’s something bad, she knows that much. In the cabinet under the sink is a bottle. It is time for this bottle. She puts it on the table. He looks up at her, tears in his eyes. “Gone, ma. The fish, the men, the boats. Even mine.”
She frowns, clicks her tongue. “Then we’ll have to wait,” she says. “Can’t make chowder without shrimp. They’re coming back, aren’t they?” He says nothing. She wraps the fish in the last piece of newspaper. She should ask him to get more, but not now. She pours herself a small glass and smiles. The wine is good.
Fiction © Copyright Marge Simon
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

More from Marge Simon:

 

Satan’s Sweethearts
by Marge Simon and‎ Mary Turzillo

Satan’s Sweethearts – a collection of poems by Marge Simon and Mary Turzillo featuring the most monstrous, evil women throughout history!

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 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 21, 2018 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Journey of the Souls
by Ela Lourenco

Rocking, swaying… hurtling at breakneck speed
Nausea washes over me as my eyes open, unfocussed,
Dazed and disorientated as my body jerks with the
Rough movements of the train.
Train?
I do not remember getting on.
Strangers surround me, some teary, some scared
I do not remember how I got here,
Nor where I am going…
Nor where I came from.
The last thing I remember…
Your eyes as you wrapped your hands around my throat
Fiction © Copyright Ela Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2

More from Ela Lourenco:

Essence

Katra is a Fae Hunter in a world once ravaged by a terrible war. Having lost all memory of her childhood and rightful identity, her duty is now to protect the tentative peace brokered by the varying races of the supernatural world. When an evil darkness begins to spread, draining young witches of their power, Katra must find a way back to her true past in order to save the future.

Enduring many trials as ever-increasing powers awaken within her, Katra must also struggle with the mixed emotions her new partner, Blade – a Black Dragon – is rousing within her. Together they must battle the shadows that plan to devour the world they know and prevent its decent into another thousand-year war.

Can Katra hold onto her strength as the truth of her very being begins to unravel? Can she bear the weight that ancient prophecy has placed on her young shoulders? Or is her destiny to regain her true self, only to lose the world she is sworn to protect?

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 Kathleen McCluskey @KathleenMcClus4 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 20, 2018 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Flight 2607
by Kathleen McCluskey

The flight began like any other flight, running to get to your gate, the endless line of passengers checking in, even the obligatory crying infant. Patty was painfully aware of how her day was going to go when she heard the infant. She decided that a Xanax coupled with a few vodka sodas would soon have her drifting off to sleep.
She opened her foggy vodka soaked eyes and tried to focus. She could barely move her head; a small sticky spot of blood was above her eye. She touched it and winced. Stretching, yawning and trying to come back to life she heard a slippery sound that snapped her back to consciousness. She looked around and was confused by her surroundings.
The plane was in ruin, she had been ejected out of the smoldering fuelselage. The slippery, sickening sound came to her again. She frantically pulled at her seat belt. She tried to stand. Her legs felt like rubber, she was staggering about when a man grabbed her. Taken aback she let out a yelp.
“Calm, down. We crashed.”
“Yeah, no shit!” Slippery sound. She spun around to try and see what had made the grotesque noise.
“We’ve been hearing that for about an hour but we can’t seem to pinpoint where it is coming from.” Slippery sound.
Patty nervously looked passed the plane trying to focus, “I know that sound” as she touched the wound on her head. “We are in serious danger.” She walked around the front of the demolished aircraft. “Look,” as she pointed to the sky.
The few wounded survivors looked in horror as the tentacles began to become clear through the mist and the sunset. “The elders are angry, I don’t know why.” She glanced at the others, “There is no place to run, no place to hide. We are all doomed.”
Fiction © Copyright Kathleen McCluskey
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

line_separator2

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!

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 Melissa R. Mendelson @melissmendelson @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 20, 2018 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Never Play by the Water at Sunset
by Melissa R. Mendelson

My mother used to warn me,
“Never go to the shores at dusk.
Never listen as the waves lull you in.
Ignore the gentle wind gesturing this way.
It’s all a trap, his vicious game.”
I would laugh and frolic in response,
but her warnings always bit at my heels,
dug deep into the sands left behind my footprints.
When the sun would melt into water
and the wind played with my hair
I ran home,
but I didn’t run home today.
Instead, I stood mesmerized before a shipwreck.
The golden pink skies fell softly against broken wood,
the sands whispered of love and loss.
My body folded against the hand of the wind,
the laughter of children melted my soul.
For a moment, I was here,
but then shadow fell.
Something cold ripped from my chest.
I opened my eyes and saw his ghostly hands painted crimson.
My heart a dark red gem.
As he turned to disappear into the dark blue waters,
I fell back into the golden sands.
Fiction © Copyright Melissa R. Mendelson
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

line_separator2


More from Melissa R. Mendelson:


They Won’t Take My Kids Away

In this Dystopian tale, there is a day that comes around each year, where children are chosen and taken away from their families, almost never to be heard from or seen again, and when she awoke that morning, she knew that they would be coming for her children. But she would risk everything to save them.

Available on Amazon!

line_separator2

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

After Midnight in the Garden, short #horror #fiction by #author @scribe77 https://wp.me/p2j62e-Pv @sotet_angyal #PenoftheDamned

Posted on May 17, 2018 by Nina D'Arcangela

A little planting in the dark does a soul good… or is that a little dark planting puts a soul right? Reblogged from PenoftheDamned.com, ‘After Midnight in the Garden’ by A.F. Stewart – have a nibble, it’s got a wicked little bite!

afstewart's avatarPen of the Damned

“Under the moonlight, that’s what my momma said.”

Ivy spoke to the night, her fingers digging into damp soil. “It’s when the flowers bloom, Ivy, and the strangest, best things happen when those flowers bloom.” She giggled as a worm crawled out of the upturned earth; she scooped it into her hand. “Why hello, Mr. Worm, come to hear me jabber on about my mother’s wisdom? Because she surely was wise. Least about this garden. That’s why I’m here. Got me a flower that needs blooming.”

Ivy pulled a large brown seed from her pocket and dropped it in the hole she dug, smoothing the dirt back over and burying it. Then she crushed the worm and smushed the blood and gore into the ground covering the seed.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Worm, but every little bit helps.”

She reached back and picked up her small pail, the…

View original post 374 more words

Posted in Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Pen of the Damned | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

Ashes, short #horror #fiction by #author @scarlettralgee https://wp.me/s2iKoL-ashes @sotet_angyal #PenoftheDamned

Posted on May 15, 2018 by Nina D'Arcangela

‘Ashes’by Scarlett R. Algee. A piece that tells of a summoning gone wrong. Who’s up for a little damnation from one of our newest members of Pen of the Damned?

Scarlett R. Algee's avatarPen of the Damned

I open my eyes.

The floor is icy; that’s the first thing I notice. The flagstones are freezing, a leaching cold, and I can feel the warmth of my body seeping into the granite underneath me, though the temperature of the surface itself doesn’t seem to change.

The quiet encroaches on my mind. My breath rasps in my ears, seconded only by the thud of my heartbeat. I’d performed the summoning ritual perfectly. Whatever I’d called out of the void should still be bound here, waiting my command, breathing, gibbering, something audible. Silence is never a good sign.

I try to push myself up. Can I? The stone under my back is a gravity well pulling at my skin, but I strain, getting my shoulders off the floor. The air smells of ash and smoke from burning flesh, my stomach twists. Pressure rises in my throat. I drop back…

View original post 288 more words

Posted in Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Pen of the Damned | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

Hell, short #horror #fiction by #author @authormarkstein https://wp.me/s2j62e-hell @sotet_angyal #PenoftheDamned

Posted on May 8, 2018 by Nina D'Arcangela

banner_for_cafepress

‘Hell’, by Mark Steinwachs. The official relaunch of Pen of the Damned kicks off with this delightfully twisted tale!

reaper_separator

Mark Steinwachs's avatarPen of the Damned

“Hell. You think you have it all figured out. Fire and brimstone, sinners writhing in agony, cries of the forsaken. You think that’s it, but you’re wrong. You cursed me there when you drove the knife into me because I was different. You cursed me there when you watched me bleed out. You cursed me there in the name of God. I didn’t belong there. Not until your knife pierced my skin. And then I knew hatred. You taught me. As my life slipped away on the grass, as you spit on me, you taught me hate. In that moment, you sent me to Hell.”

My smile melts into a sneer. They lie in their bed, both paralyzed by my touch. His wife screams, but no sound comes out. His eyes are wide, mouth closed. Ten years have taken a toll on him, though my body is the same.

I…

View original post 809 more words

Posted in Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Pen of the Damned | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment