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

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

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

Posted on November 29, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


The Guard
by Julianne Snow

Sentry.
The job bestowed to me by the all-powerful Mother. To guard is my life, and though I may be small, my bite packs a deadly punch for all who seek to enter where it’s forbidden. My woven home sits upon the rusted metal, the silky strands at odds with the rough surface. It’s here I wait.
Boredom sets in often—at times I wish the Mother had felt fit to honour me with another duty, something with more panache like those who construct the most intricately beautiful webs. But it’s for naught as I was designed to kill with speed.
My silken threads sound an alarm, something is tugging upon the lock barring their entry.
I strike quickly, burying my poisoned fangs into tender flesh. The warning stops, and all is safe again until the next time. Thankfully the Mother is quick with my reward—my sticky filaments trapping the plump fly before it can 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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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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

Posted on November 29, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Shut In
by Sheri White

Vicky opened the front door to her father’s house, pushing it with her shoulder a few times so she could squeeze inside. She turned sideways and shuffled through the small opening. She shut the door behind her, putting the back of her hand lightly against her nose, breathing through her mouth until she got used to the foul soup of odors wafting through the house.
“Dad?” Vicky walked through the narrow hallway, stepping over old paint cans, mildewed books, and other junk, careful not to bump into the stacks of junk piled up against the walls. “I’ve got your meds for the week.”
She turned into the living room, holding the door jamb for support to avoid the rotting garbage on the floor. She grimaced and wiped her hand on her jeans. Roaches scuttled away from her shoes, burrowing under empty soda cans and moldy frozen meal trays.
Her father’s chair (“my throne,” he would call it) was empty, a section of a decades-old newspaper draped over the stained fabric. He spent his days staring at reruns on the nostalgia channel and cutting spools of wire — the pile on the floor had grown over the past week. Barney Fife yelled at Andy to nip it in the bud as Vicky backed out of the room. She knew her father couldn’t have gone far – the downstairs bathroom was one of the few accessible areas in the house.
Vicky tiptoed the few yards to the bathroom and peeked in. The room was silent except for the leaky faucet drizzling into the clogged sink. She backed out quickly, trying not to see the wet, stained toilet paper strewn about the floor.
She walked to the kitchen, kicking aside trash. “Did you like those new Lean Cuisines? I’m not a big fan of most of them, but I thought the veggies enchiladas were — “
Her father lay sprawled face-down on the filthy tile, covered by the cookbooks and small appliances he had shoved on the top of the refrigerator. The freezer door hung ajar, its contents oozing over the side.
“Oh, god!  Daddy, are you okay?” Vicky hurried over and knelt beside him, for once not stressing about the slime coating her jeans. His eyes were vacant, staring at nothing; his skin ice cold as she felt for a pulse on his neck.
“Oh, Daddy. Even you didn’t deserve this. I’m sorry.”
She sighed, then stood up to call 911. She grabbed the dining table for support, but yanked her hand away, screaming as roaches skittered over her skin. Her feet slid out from under her and she cracked her head on floor. Tall, precarious piles of damp, moldy newspapers and magazines fell on top of her, covering the upper half of her body. She screamed under the sections of newspaper concealing her face, but her hot breath only molded the paper to her nose and mouth.
As roaches swarmed her and she gasped at what little air she could breathe, Vicky wondered how long it would be until their bodies were found.
Fiction © Copyright Sheri White
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Author Sheri White:


Spooky Halloween Drabbles 2016

It is the Halloween holiday season and that means Spooky Halloween Drabbles 2016! These drabbles will keep you entertained and amused throughout!

Features the talents of Samantha Benford, Stephen Blake, H.R. Boldwood, Cynthia Booth, Rex Booth, Roy C. Booth, Lisanria Carlomagno, Stuart Conover, S.J. Dobson, Janice P. Egry, Anthony Ferguson, Ken Goldman, Pedro Iniguez, Kevin J Kennedy, Thomas Kleaton, Axel Kohagen, David LePage, Angela J. Maher, Frank Martin, John F. Mollard, Lee Murray, Thomas Oliveri, Kenneth E. Olson, Tina Piney, James Pyne, Jo-Anne Russell, Andrea Stanet, SR Stewart, Laurie Treacy, William Tucker, Chuck West, Donna Marie West, and Sheri White.

Werewolves, vampires, ghosts, fairies, djinns, goblins, trolls, witches, brownies, banshees — all sorts of weirdlings are on the prowl in these spooky drabbles.

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 Kim Richards @Kim_Richards @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on November 28, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Panorama Killer
by Kim Richards

With a sickening crack, like that of bones snapping, the door frame gave way. The heavy door fell inward, sending up a cloud of grey dust as it landed on the cement floor. Two heavily armed SWAT team officers stormed in with their 9 mm Sig Sauer service weapons held at the ready for their expected target. On their heels the detective, also in full protective gear, stepped in behind them. A tinge of disappointment gave them a moment’s pause as they looked upon an empty apartment. It only lasted a second before each man kicked into action, systematically searching every space of the run down place. None of them relaxed until everything was cleared.
“Damn. We lost him,” the larger man said.
“Not by much though,” said the second officer. He pointed at a worn chair with a newspaper lying on it and discarded wires strewn about the floor. “That’s this morning’s newspaper.”
The detective craned his neck to read the headline. “The bastard likes to read about himself.”
“It’s too bad we can’t get the media to stop reporting anything about him. He probably gets off on it and it makes him want to be more famous.” The second officer kicked the wires with the toe of his left boot. “Vicious cycle and all that.”
The detective scoffed. “He will get plenty of press when they cover his lethal injection. I bet my new boat that he gets the death penalty.”
At that, he reached up to the radio attached to his shoulder harness and keyed it on. He reported in and ordered a team to come. They could sweep the room for evidence; maybe get fingerprints off the chair arms or door knob.
“Do you suppose he is gearing up for a couple more murders? There are two wooden beams here.” The large officer paused, thinking a moment before continuing. “How the hell does he get those things out of a little room like this on the ninth floor and up to the roof without anyone seeing him? He’d have to take them out the window with a crane or something.”
Neither of the two other men answered him because they wondered the same things.
Suddenly the second officer flipped upside down; his head thumping hard on the cement. He yelped. The other two men spun around to see what happened. Stunned, both gaped at the sight of their fellow officer hanging from the ceiling by wire wrapped tightly around his legs. Like tiny snakes, the individual wires twisted and wound themselves to securely tie his legs.
The large man stepped forward to help his companion when more wires from near his feet quickly moved, trussing him up in the same way. As he was lifted and flipped over, his gun clattered to the floor.
The detective made for the door. He made it as far as the door frame when something thin and strong yanked him backward as though he were an unruly dog who just found the end of his leash. The very last thing he heard before his world went black was the sound of a window sliding open.
Fiction © Copyright Kim Richards
Image courtesy of Pixabay.

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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 Leigh M. Lane @LeighMLane @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on November 28, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Call
by Leigh M. Lane

The voices moved like water, rippling around her, bending the light. She’d eavesdropped long enough to find the words boring, so she let them fade. She didn’t remember going downstairs, but the fever had sent her sleepwalking the night before. She’d startled awake, finding herself shivering alone in the dark, moldy basement. Too disoriented to place where she was, all she could think to do at the time was scream. At least she knew where she was this time.
The room seemed to shift, and she steadied herself against the dense mahogany railing. The voices flooded over her, thrusting her forward a pace. A chill rushed up from her bare feet, as if a cold, invisible fog had rolled in, and a sense of dread overcame her with the cooling air. Her heart sped up, fluttering angrily. Felt like it might tear its way out of her chest. The racing beat became audible, drumming out what remained of the voices.
Something brushed by her arm, and she spun with a shriek. Nothing but blackness spanned behind her, and the blackness was spreading…. reaching, creeping. Coming for her.
She skittered up the steps, stumbling over her own feet more than once and nearly toppling back down. As soon as she reached the landing, she dashed up the hall. When she neared her room, the voices reached out once more like tendrils of smoke permeating through the door. Still, she had to listen hard to hear them: Please don’t go.
She froze, uncertainty holding her hand at the knob. She put her ear to the cold, finished wood as the words fell into whispers. The hallway grew dark, the growing chill rushing forward. Now or never.
Her eyes squinting shut and her breath held, she opened the door.
Fiction © Copyright Leigh M. Lane
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Leigh M. Lane:

Finding Poe: Special Edition

Finding Poe is a riddle to be solved, and this edition caters to those who feel up to the task. If you’re a Poe fan, you’ll already know he was the father of the deductive detective story. Many scholars will argue that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes series was inspired by Poe’s Detective Dupin stories.

This book asks the reader to assume the hat of the deductive detective. Throughout the text, there are numerous clues to direct the reader toward an alternate speculation about Poe’s untimely death. Before you set out to solve the riddle, however, you must first find the question….

About the story: When reality and fiction collide, there’s no telling what horrors might ensue.

In the wake of her husband’s haunted death, Karina must sift through the cryptic clues left behind in order to solve the mystery behind his suicide–all of which point back to the elusive author, Edgar Allan Poe.

Karina soon finds that reality, dream, and nightmare have become fused into one as she journeys from a haunted lighthouse in New England to Baltimore, where the only man who might know the answers to her many questions resides.

But will she find her answers before insanity rips her grip on reality for good? Might a man she’s never met hold the only key to a truth more shocking than even she could have imagined?

Finding Poe was a 2013 EPIC Awards finalist in Horror.

“Atmospheric, lush, and lyrical, Leigh M. Lane’s Finding Poe is a haunting Gothic novel which will delight anyone familiar with the works of Edgar Allan Poe, as well as anyone who enjoys an evocative and classic tale of terror.” –horror/mystery author Dana Fredsti.

Available on Amazon!

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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 Suzanne Madron @suzannemadron @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on November 27, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Behind the Door
by Suzanne Madron

The clink of the padlock against the doorjamb woke her and after a century of sleep, she opened her eyes. Immediately she regretted the action as dust and debris scratched upon entry past the lashes.
She sat up and blinked away the tears, noting the feel of layers of time upon her rotting clothing. How long this time? She wondered. Her story had been told so many times over the centuries that it had become muddled. She had helped to dilute it until it featured a box, and all the things held within that box.
There had never been a box. It had always been her.
The gentle clink of the padlock gave way to hammering, followed by the sound of metal hitting the ground as the lock fell. The door’s hinges screamed out a warning to the unsuspecting innocents beyond, but went unheaded.
With a smile, Pandora got to her feet in order to properly greet the next generation.
Fiction © Copyright Suzanne Madron
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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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!

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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 Bailey Hunter @DarkRecesses @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on November 27, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Marriage Retreat
by Bailey Hunter

“Sean, did you pick up more traps?” Millie’s shrill voice roared down the stairwell.
“Yes, Millie. I picked up more traps.  We have now officially bought every damn mouse and rat trap in the village.”  Sean rubbed the back of his neck and sighed deep.  The whole point of this trip to a nice quaint village on the moors was to try and settle things in their marriage.  So far, it wasn’t working.
“Have you called the landlords?” Her words grew louder. She was finally coming down.
“Yes. You know I have. You were in the same room as me.” Sean’s voice began to strain. He rolled his shoulders back trying to shrug off the irritation that gnawed at the nape of his neck. “Listen love, I’m sorry it bothers you. There are no exterminators in the area, and to hire one would cost more than they’re getting from us in rent for the month. It’s just skittering in the walls. They don’t seem to be even coming out.”
Millie appeared at the door of the kitchen, hand on hip. “That’s what bothers me. We never see them, and yet they run through the walls all night long. It’s unnerving. Not to mention the diseases!”
“I made some warm milk. It’s supposed to help you sleep. Why don’t you sit with me and try to relax. All this worry over a few mice isn’t doing you any favours.” Sean handed Millie a warm cup. “Come. Sit.”
“Fine. Next time I pick the destination, though. This is ridiculous.” Millie took a deep swallow of the milk. “Mmmm.  This is better than I expected. It’s a bit sweet.”
“I added a bit of honey,” Sean grinned as Millie slumped over the table, “to mask the tranquilizers, you bloody hag.”
Sean moved the old radiator from the wall. “You can come out now. She’s all yours. Remember, nothing left. Not even a scrap of her robe. I’m going to head down to the pub and I want her gone by the time I get back.”
One by one, tiny creatures made mainly of teeth and quills scurried out of a mouse hole in a seemingly endless stream. They swarmed the drugged woman chewing like piranha, stopping only for a moment as the door slammed shut.
Sean pulled his coat tight to his chin to ward off the damp, cold winds. Up ahead he saw a gnarled old man with impossibly long nails in a filthy red cap moving towards him.
Fiction © Copyright Bailey Hunter
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
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More about Bailey Hunter:
Bailey is a publisher with Dark Recesses Press.


D.R.E.X. Blackout

Matthew Burke’s life is turned inside out when his wife is murdered and he’s forced to join  D.R.E.X., the supposedly defunct organization responsible for hunting and killing supernatural creatures,that his wife was once part of. As the investigation hes been dragged into deepens, the more he realizes how few people he can trust…

Available from Dark Recesses Publishing

 
Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Lori R. Lopez @LoriRLopez @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on November 26, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Trap
by Lori R. Lopez

My neighbors make noises at night.
It isn’t the usual complaint:
revving engines, blasting T.V. or music,
talking too loud, hosting constant
drunken bashes — whether parties or fights.
None of that.  No yelling, and nothing
social.  In fact, thinking about it,
I hardly ever hear them speak.
And that seems off,
almost as if they’re too quiet.
Except for
the bloodcurdling cries.
I know, I should have phoned the cops.
Most folks would.
But out here, we have a different
set of rules.
We don’t stick our noses
into other people’s business . . .
if we know what’s good for us.
It’s a community of lone-wolf packs
and hermit crabs.
Private.  Houses spread apart
by ample yards and fences,
barbwire and gates.
My neighbors carry shotguns,
big hunting knives they won’t hesitate
to use.  I don’t talk to or about
my neighbors.  It’s safer.
Ones who aren’t doing illicit
highly questionable activities
are trappers.  The question is,
what do they trap?
Wildlife’s scarce because they
killed it — them and
families deciding it’d be cheaper
to hunt than pay the grocer;
teens and adults roaming woods
for target practice; white-shirts
from cities bringing contamination.
Every drop of freshwater
poisoned before the plants and factories
shut down or moved.
A few colonies of strays and feral cats
remain free.  I put food out, water,
rooting for their survival.
It keeps me awake, wondering
about the shrieks.  Chilling.  Agonized.
Nearly human.  I can’t be sure.
I need to know.
After sunset one day, awkwardly
climbing over a fence, catching my jeans,
losing a scrap of cloth,
I sprinted tree to tree and darted to
a shed.  Windowless.
Ducking low, I stole behind
a barn held together by nails and hope
and peeked through gaping
skeletal boards at stalls, cages.
A jail cell with iron bars, a heap of rags.
Axes, assorted blades lined a wall.
Bare light swung in the breeze
from open planks.  Skins
dried on hooks.  Broad pelts of
what must have been horses.
They raided ranches and stables.
I viewed a metal rack
coated with rust, or body fluids.
What was that for?  Aiming my cellphone,
I snapped a picture.  Evidence.
Or protection.  I tucked the camera in
a back pocket.  Along an exterior side
I found a slaughter yard,
muddy red dirt in a corral pocked
by a dance of hoofmarks, bootprints,
larger dents.  Shallow impressions
that told a gruesome tale.
I ran all the way home like
a scared little piggy.
But I have to return . . .
They’ve been snooping around.
I discovered boot tracks.  A piece of
faded denim in the mailbox.
A cat, among my favorites, unspeakably
maimed.  I suspect I’ll be
walking into a trap.
I can’t bear those screams.
And the cat deserves justice.
Not through legal channels.  Horse thieves
are no longer hung.  Cat-harmers?
Even less of a penalty, if any.
I didn’t own Pretty Kitty.  Nonetheless,
the furry snow-white feline mattered.
These skullcapped evil creeps have to pay.
I thought I should write this down.
I might not make it home.
Here’s the photo.  Something’s going on.
My neighbors are not up to good.
They’re predators.
Monstrous, soulless, blending in.
I believe they also take
women and children.  I glimpsed toys
scattered in the barn.  A purse.
And a spike-heeled pump.  Don’t know
what I can do.  Gather more proof?
I cannot just sit here,
listening, frightened that
I’ll be next.
Fiction © Copyright Lori R. Lopez
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Lori R. Lopez:

Leery Lane

Have you ever kept a secret from even yourself? On one rainless electric night, Frieda Noff will learn the truth about her past, her relationship with her sister, and her hometown’s darkest secrets. It is All Hallows again, twenty years after she went down that fateful gauntlet of haunted houses as a Trick-Or-Treater. She’s finally back, perhaps to stay this time.

A young woman is confronted by the ghosts of her demons when she must return to Leery Lane, the dead-end where she lost an important piece in the puzzle of her past. She and her sibling haven’t spoken in two decades, since that terrible Halloween when Frieda borrowed something that belonged to Francine without permission. She feels that she needs to remember what it was and find the object of contention, somewhere in a row of decrepit Victorians, to repair the rift between sisters. But some secrets are better left buried. A witty blend of Gothic Horror, Humor, Supernatural and Mystery, Leery Lane is a ghost story to curl up with and savor. Take a walk you won’t be able to forget on the creepy side of town . . .

Look for an Illustrated Print Edition with macabre artwork by the author!

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 Rie Sheridan Rose @RieSheridanRose @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on November 26, 2017 by Nina D'Arcangela

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Feather Weight
by Rie Sheridan Rose

The stairway to the heavens…that’s what we used to call the main stairway at Maisey’s place. It was the place where we went when we needed to cry over boy trouble, or crow about a new conquest. Maisey would offer a shoulder to cry on or a glass of champagne (don’t tell the parents, she’d whisper with a wink.)
Maisey was a whore, some said. But to us, she was a queen. That stairway was the way to her throne. The last night I saw her, Maisey was up there, in her throne room. We were no longer the children bringing her our sorrows and our successes…we were young women with lives less tangled in the tresses of the aging madame down the road.
I went to tell her that I was leaving town—going to college in another state. I ran up those stairs as lightly as an angel…to find a secret I had never suspected.
Maisey lay in the center of the scarlet carpet—but she wasn’t alone. She was…feeding on a young boy. She didn’t see me, and I backed away with my hand over my mouth so she wouldn’t hear me either.
I crept down the stairs to the bottom. To a loose baluster that I had always liked to spin in my hand. I pried it out like a broken tooth, one end sharp from the method of construction.
My fingers traced one last time over the feathers carved into the head of the newel post. Those feathers had wafted me up those stairs so many times in my life…and now, they urged me on.
Baluster in hand, I went up the stairway to heaven one last time…and stabbed that vile vampiress in her black heart. Fleeing down the stairway on winged feet, I stopped only long enough to set a match to the well-worn carpet on the entryway floor.
I watched it catch, licking its way toward the stairway to heaven with the flames of hell. And the ashes fell around me like the feathers on the newel post.
Fiction © Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Author Rie Sheridan Rose:

The Grotesquierie
Short Story: House Call

Twenty-two short horror stories written by women are here on display for your enjoyment or your perverse fascination. Within these pages, beauty becomes deadly, innocence kills, and karma is a harsh mistress. The Grotesquerie is now open…

 

Available on Amazon!

 

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