Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author E.A. Black @ElizabethABlack @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on December 25, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Battling Against Nature
by E.A. Black

US troops rode many miles over endless Afghan dunes. Private Pearce feared for his life. Would he be blown up by terrorist gunfire and bombs? Why the hell were soldiers dragged all the way out here to the end of the earth to save a stupid statue?
“That’s no ordinary statue,” his best friend Private Jones said. “It may be the third Bamiyan Buddha. You know the Taliban blew up the other two. I heard they were amazing to see. Simply stunning. Hundreds of feet high carved into a cliff.”
“I’m not a budding archeologist like you. I don’t see why we have to risk our lives,” Pearce said.
“If it’s here, you’ll see why. Rumor has it it’s protected by Buddhist gods. We’re coming up to the spot now.” Jones said. “I hope we’re not too late. The Taliban is quick. If it sees a chance to destroy this statue it will take it.”
Sand blew hard in a red cast sky as if the heavens had been lit on fire. Dozens of tire tracks lead through the sand but ended abruptly only yards ahead of the convoy. A sandstorm loomed ahead, preventing the troops from entering the area but the sight of overturned trucks proved the Taliban had unwisely ventured forth. Pearce listened to the raging winds and swore he heard uncanny and inhuman voices shouting in Arabic.  He watched several Afghan soldiers flee their trucks leaving bombs behind to escape the torrent but the sand swept them up, forever silencing them. As the storm approached the U. S. convoy, Pearce panicked, wanting to drive out of the area but the commanders forbade it. He squinted into the storm and was shocked to see what appeared to be an angry face within the sand. Before he could get a good look at it, the storm ended as quickly as it had begun. Afghan soldiers and their trucks had been covered in mountains of sand, leaving behind no survivors. Pearce immediately became a believer and never again doubted the existence and importance of the third Bamiyan Buddha.
The statue was able to take care of itself.
Fiction © Copyright E. A. Black
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from E.A. Black:

Zippered Flesh 3

What horror anthology on body enhancements wouldn’t include gross-out fiction? This book has it in spades. But, this collection of stories goes far beyond that. Here you will also find science fiction, surreal fiction, fantasy, and even a full serving of dark humor. Disturbing, perverse, often gut-wrenching (pun intended) stories—all between the covers of this anthology!
Nineteen chilling tales by some of the best horror and suspense writers today. Definitely not for the squeamish!

“Hardcore horror that ranges from the socially relevant to the scatologically repulsive—the shock here is like ‘The Scream’ made flesh.” — Mort Castle, editor of On Writing Horror: A Handbook by the Horror Writers Association

“In Zippered Flesh 3, Editor Weldon Burge has done a masterful job of combining work from well-known masters like Jack Ketchum and Graham Masterton with newer writers. But it is the original work by newcomers like L.L. Soares and Meghan Acuri that stands out for me. … Highly recommended.” — Gene O’Neill, author of The Hitchhiking Effect: A Retrospective Collection

“‘Closer by Charles Colyott is a wonderfully poignant and romantic story. … ‘Going Green’ by Christine Morgan is so original, timely, and well-written it deserves special mention. … Kudos to Burge for putting together another fine anthology of cutting-edge fiction.” — Paul Dale Anderson, author of The Instruments of Death series

Available on Amazon!

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

Posted on December 24, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Apocolyse
by Kathleen McCluskey

Jan and Lisa walked cautiously towards the archaic and rusty bridge guns drawn. Cars had not been across it in decade. It had stood for nearly a century before the destruction of mankind began. It started with a war of words between the United States and China. Countries across the globe soon took sides. The beginning of the end followed. Nuclear weapons on both sides were deployed, the unmitigated destruction of mankind was inevitable. Now the two sisters stood looking at the monolith  before them, illuminated only by the moonlight. Night time was the only time to travel, some survivors had turned to cannibalism to survive. Their eyesight was minimal in the darkness.
Lisa went first, her .45 held up like a police officer. Jan followed with her .9mm raised in unison. They stepped onto the old bridge. They had heard that there was a sanctuary on the other side. A small but thriving community that had enough crops so they didn’t turn on each other. The only thing between them and safety was the bridge. Lisa stepped onto the rickety structure and the bridge groaned in protest. Jan soon followed behind.
A thick fog had begun to rise from the murky waters below. They cautiously walked, “We are taking too long, the sun is going to rise soon.” The orange glow of the oncoming dawn began to illuminate the mountains. Lisa continued with her gloomy forecast, “I do not want to be caught on this bridge at dawn. We are sitting ducks.” As the dawn quickly approached they began to run. Rust dust flew in all directions as they finished their crossing. The sun had almost risen on top of the mountains. Jan heard a growl. The gunfire was extraordinary as she fell to the ground. Jan was being dragged down towards the water. Lisa was in the arms of a stranger pulling her to safety. The sisters would never see each other again.
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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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Lydia Prime @LydiaPrime @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on December 24, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Icarus
by Lydia Prime

I’ve never felt so alone, well, maybe never is a bit strong. While the gray creeps over the land ahead of me, I’m watching as everything tries to vainly run for cover. I’m sitting patiently against a huge oak tree, leaning against the rough bark, with my fingers twisting through the grass. The gray just keeps on moving towards me, steady in its pace. I look past its trail and see that nothing’s escaping. Everything it touches begins to shrivel, wither – die. Animals, to bones, to dust; mixed with the dirt and grass that’s dried and cracked to become a gravel-like sand. The clouds seem to be getting closer now, and even though I can just barely see the light shining in the distance, I know this is where it ends. Before long, my twisting grass becomes ashes, my huge oak tree trunk, drained to a fraction of itself. As for me, well, I too have been touched by the gray. It hurt at first, tearing flesh from muscle, from bone – from consciousness. That’s fine now though, because as they say, “ashes to ashes.”
Fiction © Copyright Lydia Prime
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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

Posted on December 23, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Watch Tower
by Rie Sheridan Rose

“Almost night,” Ainnir whispered. “New shift coming.”
Beagán stretched. “Good. Me back is killing me.”
“Baby,” she teased. “This is better than cutting sod, ain’t it?”
“A bit.” He lay back on the stone floor. “This outpost is hardly worth defendin’, anyway. Our lands are fadin’ to naught. No one even remembers us anymore.”
“As long as the Morrigan says ‘watch this road’, we watch it.”
Beagán sat up, ears twitching, “Ye hear that?”
“Aye.” Ainnir grabbed her spear, holding it white-knuckled tight. “Let’s get to tha road.”
Together, they stole down the stairs of the watch tower, creeping through the undergrowth to crouch beside the road. One of the fire-eyed monsters was coming towards them.
“Ready?”
Beagán nodded, his face grim in the twilight.
***
“It’s just as wonderful as you promised, Jack,” Jill murmured, sitting as close as the shift would allow. “I’ve wanted to visit Ireland all my life. Thank you for giving me this honeymoon.”
He glanced over at her. “Anything for you, Pumpkin.”
The road was narrow and straight, unspooling before the convertible like a ribbon.
Jill sat upright, pointing over at the side of the road. “Look, Jack! Isn’t that little tower adorable! We should stop and take a picture.”
“It’s too dark for that, and we’ll be late getting to the inn. Maybe on the way back.”
“Okay.” She pouted.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang and the car spun out of control, hitting a tree and bursting into flame.
***
“Well done, Ainnir! Right in tha foot—just like I told ye! One less beast invadin’ our land.”
“But did ye hear it, Beagán? I heard it talkin’, I swear.”
“Don’t be daft. They’re jes’ monsters.”
They stretched their wings. “Let’s get home t’ Tír na nÓg.  Time fer dinner.”
Fiction © Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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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!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Julianne Snow @CdnZmbiRytr @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on December 23, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Scour
by Julianne Snow

Charred remains are all that is left once they’re gone. The fields are still verdant, the stalks rustling in the wind as smoke carries the scent of burned flesh outward. It was a horrific and swift end to a chance at something better—something good. But they would never have allowed that—only death, destruction, and absolute ruin will reign supreme when they’re done with their mission.
When the Scourers come, there’s no hiding and no escape.
Fiction © Copyright Julianne Snow
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Julianne Snow:

JulianneSnow_TheDeadOfPenderghastManorThe Dead of Penderghast Manor

What would you do if you knew the Dead could talk?

For Chester Penderghast, it’s not the easiest of questions to answer…

Ensconced in the basement of his family’s mortuary business is the last place he wants to be, but when the conversation starts flowing, Chester’s the only living person who can hear it. What do the Dead want, and why is he the only one who can hear them?

This is not your average zombie tale—the Dead don’t want to eat your brains, but they will chew your ear off!

Available on Amazon!

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

Posted on December 22, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Bridge
by Selah Janel

It was going to rain soon and the bridge kept going. Callie felt like she’d been driving forever, though surely it hadn’t been that long.
I’m just tired. I should’ve gotten more sleep last night. She cranked up the air and the radio, checked to each side of her for the hundredth time to make sure she wasn’t drifting. Bad enough that a while ago she’d nearly fallen asleep and a car horn had woken her up, made her yank herself back to her own lane.
At least there aren’t any other cars up here. The thought didn’t quite make her feel better, though. A glance out to the water proved that it was a long way down. Her stomach tightened. She quickly looked back to the road, and up to the sky. Please let the rain hold off. This is bad enough
 She hated bridges. Always had. Her head did weird things, her chest tightened, her breathing sped up, her stomach rolled, and she always started to panic until suddenly she was back on the real road and safe at last and feeling stupid.
Any second now, and I’ll be safe, she told herself and tried not to look at how old the guard rails seemed to be, or that the road itself wasn’t in the greatest of shape. She cranked the radio again, her left hand clutching the wheel as if it was the only thing keeping her in the car. I can do this I can do this just sing along and–
Wait, has it always been static?
 The radio popped and hissed a constant white noise.
She frowned and looked down to it—
She was plummeting. Callie screamed, flailed as her stomach dropped out from under her, beat on the window, braced for impact, was already sobbing-
She jerked awake, shaking. That was close. She took a shaky breath and slowed down just a hair, though she really wanted to just gun it the rest of the way across.  I’m just tired. I should’ve gotten more sleep last night.
It would be fine. It had to be fine. Even the longest bridges ended at some point, right? She tried not to look too closely at how old the thing was and hissed a breath out from between her teeth in an unrecognizable mantra. At least there aren’t any cars up here.
She frowned, a strange feeling of repetition drifting over her, but she shook it off. Bridges always did strange things to her, and it had to end soon. She clutched the wheel and turned up the radio again, frowning at the static.
It was going to rain and the bridge kept going.
Fiction © Copyright Selah Janel
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Author Selah Janel:

Holly and Ivy

After losing her job and her boyfriend, Holly returns to her parents’ farm. Embarrassed and hopeless, she doesn’t expect to bump into a forgotten childhood friend that wasn’t supposed to exist. Ivy is not only a dryad, but she lives in the pine trees Holly’s family grows to sell at Christmas. As the old friends reconnect, Ivy not only shares her strong opinions, but gives Holly a charm that will change both their lives. As days melt into weeks and the seasons change, Holly’s life magically turns around. Christmas not only brings surprises, but a choice for the human woman. What’s more important: stability, success, and love, or keeping a promise to an old friend?

Available on Amazon!

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

Posted on December 22, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Judgement Day
by A.F. Stewart

“Apocalypse.”
I roll the word over my tongue, then lick the blood from my lips. My voice makes the injured human on the ground shiver.
I like that.
I stare at him. “Why do you call our presence in your world this thing? Name it apocalypse?”
The creature whispers, “It’s the end of the world.”
I shrug. That means nothing to me. I watch the human scramble to its knees, holding the arm I had bitten. It stares at my feet and whimpers, “Please don’t kill me. I’ll—” The rest of its words go unspoken as I plunge my claws into its eyes and tongue. I rip the meat out of its body and pluck the tasty bits off my claws, popping them into my mouth.
The creature falls to the ground oozing blood. I smash its head with my foot. As I pry open its skull and scoop out its brains, I surveyed the landscape. My newly conquered territory. Dry, desolate and burned, perfectly destroyed. A breathtaking consequence of the humans opening the Hell Gate.
It has been a year since we came here. Only a year to make this our home.
It is all we hoped for.
I inhale, savouring the smell of sulphur, smoke, and blood, and finish my meal. I toss the remaining human scraps to my pack. The lesser demons growl and fight over the meat. I smile.
When they are done, it will be time to move forward.
Broken human settlements lie beyond the hills. Ripe for the picking.
I like this new world.
This new hunting ground.
Fiction © Copyright A.F. Stewart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from A.F. Stewart:


Horror Haiku Pas de Deux

In the shadows—voices.
Calling, screaming, moaning.
Countless tongues telling tales…
of Hell
of Monsters
and Unnatural Things

Come chase the dark words, fall into the spell of terror and sit with the poetic weaver as you watch the world burn. Horror Haiku Pas de Deux is a volume of poetry mixing horror with haiku and verse to chill your bones.
Poetic beauty lives forever with the undead.

Available on Amazon!

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

Posted on December 1, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

I’m proud to introduce our youngest Lady of Horror – Asena Lourenco! She’s 10 years old and was inspired to write for this challenge after seeing this image over her mother’s shoulder. Welcome Asena, it’s an honor to share your prose with the world!

The Rusty Old Lock
by Asena Lourenco

As I creeped towards the ancient lock
I heard the clock go ticked-tock
I knew I didn’t have much time to spare
Otherwise I would disappear into thin air.
I jammed the mouldy key into the hole
Before it was too late – from the evil soul.
I knew there wouldn’t be a long life for me
I’d better be quick for that is the key.
Fiction © Copyright Asena Lourenco
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More about Asena Lourenco:

Asena Lourenco is 10 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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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Stacey Turner @Spot_Speaks @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on November 30, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Whatever You Say
by Stacey Turner

Jenna tried not to grimace as she took in the details of the room. Dust motes floated lazily in the small patch of light seeping through the boarded windows, and she wrinkled her nose in a vain attempt to hold back her sneeze. No luck.
“Bless you,” Jonathon said as he returned from deeper in the monstrosity he’d set his heart on. She spied an old chair against the far wall and carefully picked her way towards it. The floor was littered with scraps of wood, pieces of the wallpaper that had given up their hold, and a few things she didn’t want to look closely at. Dear Heavens, was that a tiny mouse carcass? She made it to the chair and sank gratefully onto its musty cushion. She thought her knees might give way if she’d stood any longer, fighting the tears gathered behind her eyes.
She realized Jonathon had continued speaking, and she’d no idea what he’d said. She plastered a smile on her face and voiced the phrase that had become her motto the last six months, “Whatever you say, Darling. I’m sure you know best.”
Jonathon threw back his head and laughed. She stared at him. He glanced at her and began laughing harder still.
Confused, she dropped the smile. “Whatever is the matter with you, Jonathon?”
“You,” he said finally, wiping a tear from his eye as he spoke. “You have spent the last six months agreeing with absolutely everything I say.”
Jenna frowned. “Of course I have. What else was I supposed to do?”
Jonathon sighed, shaking his head and shifting his hat from hand to hand. “I don’t know? Voice your own opinion? Say what you really think? Make me believe there’s more to you than just a pretty face and a vapid stare?”
Jenna held herself very still. “Excuse me?” Her words were softly spoken, but Jonathon must have detected the threat in them as his frown deepened.
“I must admit, I didn’t believe it at first. I thought we were merely on the same page, two minds of the same opinions. But it didn’t seem to matter what I said—you simply agreed with everything. Then my friends warned me, said there wasn’t anything to you, that I was just in love with a pretty face and sooner or later I’d get tired of you agreeing with me all the time. I thought they were crazy at first.”
“But?” Jenna said. Her hands were clasped so tightly tiny, bloody half-moons appeared on her palms.
“But you just kept agreeing. It didn’t matter what I suggested or said. You’d just repeat the same phrase. So I brought you to this…this…hovel today, and yet, you totally agreed that it would be the perfect house to start our lives. Have you even seen this place?”
Jenna stood. “Yes, yes I have seen this place, and I hate it. And I hate horseback riding, and I hate picnics. I hate you mother, and well, sometimes I even hate you. But I don’t hate any of that as much as I hate my Uncle. So I played the biddable, sweet lady I was told men wanted. And I thought that I could put up with anything to get out of his house and away from his fists and his angry words, and his apologies, and his sweaty, hairy body on top of me.” She collapsed back on the chair in tears.
Jonathon stood staring at her with his mouth hanging open for another moment or too. Then he rushed to her and drew her up into his arms. “I’m sorry. I, I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Jenna whispered. “Because you never saw past a pretty face and warm body. You never really cared about me. No one ever has. Take me home.”
“I couldn’t possibly take you back there. Not after what you’ve said.”
“Of course you can. Unless you want to start a scandal and run off and elope.”
“I, well, I can’t,” he pulled back. “You have to understand…”
“Oh, I do. I do understand.” Jenna put her hat on and adjusted the ribbons, swiping dust from her skirts as she breezed past him to the carriage waiting outside. They were quiet on the drive until they pulled up in front of her Uncle’s house.
“I’ll get some help for you, Jenna. I swear I will. There’s got to be something…”
Jenna sighed. “Save your breath, Jonathon. I don’t blame you.” And she accepted the hand of the doorman and swept from the carriage into the house.
Jonathon thought it would be the last time he ever saw her. That night she slit her Uncle’s throat as he lay sleeping, and then took her own life. And yet, he still saw her standing just behind his left shoulder every time he looked in the mirror. He often thought he heard her whisper, Whatever you say, Darling. I’m sure you know best.
Fiction © Copyright Stacey Turner
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from author Stacey Turner:

Morbid Metamorphosis: Terrifying Tales of Transformation

Metamorphosis occurs every day as caterpillars become sweet fluttering butterflies, tadpoles become gorgeous frog princes and chameleons become one with the beauty of nature – but you won’t find any of that here.

The transformations you’re about to witness are unnatural, sometimes gruesome and deeply psychological. They will make you question reality and take your mind places it was never meant to go.

Terrifying Tales of Transformation from Greg Chapman * Roy C. Booth & R. Thomas Riley * Terri DelCampo * Dave Gammon * Nancy Kilpatrick * Rod Marsden * Jo-Anne Russell * M.J. Preston * Stacey Turner * Tina Piney * Suzanne Robb * Franklin E. Wales * Donna Marie West * Suzie Lockhart * Cameron Trost * Daniel I. Russell * Simon Dewar * Amanda J. Spedding * Ken MacGregor * Erin Shaw * Gregory L. Norris * Nickolas Furr

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Ashley Davis @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on November 30, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Between the Pages
by Ashley Davis

Dusty corridors
Lined with fire
Light my path
Guide my way through the labyrinth
Through seasons and songs
Confusion and joy
Shadowplay in forgotten corners
And bright clouds rolling white.
Take me between the quiet places
Between the pages
To my own darkness
Where I find rest.
Fiction © Copyright Ashley Davis
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More poetry by Ashley Davis can be found featured in the fall 2017 issue of
The Horror Zine

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