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

Posted on January 22, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Too Big 
by Rie Sheridan Rose 

I was too big to fit through the window. That was the first thing I noticed when I came to. My head was spinning, and I didn’t know where I was. I remembered the bar. I remembered dancing. I remembered drinking way more than I should have. That was all I remembered.

Looking around the room where I found myself, I saw a bucket in the corner, the army cot I lay upon, and nothing else. A chain just long enough to reach the bucket shackled my wrist to the wall. The metal door across the way sported a slot about a foot above the floor. A lump of bread and a bottle of water lay beneath the slot. The bottle had leaked, and the bread lay in a puddle of mud on the dirt floor.

I didn’t care. I was starving. Diving to the floor, I reached for the bread. My fingertips barely touched it. Luckily, I had done my nails the week before, and I managed to hook it and drag it through the mud until I could reach it. Wolfing it down, I almost gagged on the grit. It proved slightly better than nothing.

Once I had slaked my thirst with the dregs left in the bottle, I stretched the chain to its limits and looked out the window. Standing on my tiptoes, I craned my neck and glimpsed the outdoors. All I could see was dead stalks and dirt. And the iron bars on the window.

That was six months ago.

I would have expected to be smaller by now…one chunk of bread a day, usually half a bottle of water. But I am still too big.

I found a rock in the corner last night. Not a big rock. I guess we can’t all be too big. But big enough. I threw it against the window.

The glass shattered in one corner of one pane. I managed to pry one piece out of the frame. It’s so sharp, it cut my hand. That’s good. I need it to be sharp.

My body may be too big to fit through the hole, but my soul is non-corporeal. It’s not too big.

.

Fiction © Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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Overheard in Hell:
Dark Poetry

Poems exploring hell and damnation. Tales of sorrow, vengeance, betrayal, and redemption. Ghosts, ghouls, and demons stalk these pages. Don’t read in a lonely house…in a darkened room by a single candle…

…unless you like the touch of an icy finger up your spine.

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 Jaime Johnesee @JaimeJohnesee @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on January 21, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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As Do We All 
by Jaime Johnesee 

“Honey, can you hand me those lighted wicker ball things you bought?” Rob called out to his wife, Sandra.

After getting no response he sighed, climbed down the ladder, and stopped decorating the Christmas tree.

“Hon?” he yelled as he walked the hallway to the master suite.

Again, no response.

He pushed open the bedroom door to find his cat circling his wife who was lying unresponsive on the carpet of their living room.

“Oh, God, Sandy!” He ran to her and cradled her in his arms while fumbling for his cellphone.

“911, what is your emergency?” Came the operator’s calming voice.

“My wife, she’s not breathing. I found her on our floor. Please send an ambulance. Hurry!” He was barely understandable.

“What’s the address, sir?”

“5250 Wakefield Lane. Please hurry, oh, god, oh Sandy!” he wailed into the phone as he clutched and shook his wife, trying to wake her.

“Sir, can you tell me what happened?”

“I was trimming the tree and she was telling me what decorations to put on them. I asked for the next thing she wanted me to put up and she wasn’t there. I found her on the bedroom floor, oh, God! Why?” he sobbed uncontrollably.

“Sir, I need you to open the door for the EMS to come in. Can you meet them out front?” The operator’s voice stayed calm and collected.

“I don’t want to leave her.”

“It’ll just be for a few moments, EMS is on their way and should be there in less than two minutes.”

“I, oh, God, I guess I have to,” his voice trembled.

“Stay on the phone with me until they get there okay?” The operator tried to keep him calm.

“What if she needs me?”

“You’ll be back to her soon, with people who can help her. I’m told they’re on your street now.”

“Yes, I see them! Thank you!” Rob flagged down the ambulance crew and rushed them into the bedroom.

“Please help her! Oh, God! Please help my Sandy!” He pointed to the ground and the two EMT’s stared at each other for a few moments before the older man pulled Rob into the living room.

“My partner will, uh, work on your wife, why don’t you come with me and tell me a little more. Do you have some shoes to put on, and maybe a jacket? You’ll be riding with us to the hospital.” The EMT had kept his voice calm and tried to maneuver Rob out into the ambulance. “Here, come sit up front with me.”

“Okay.” Rob climbed into the back of the ambulance.

“Do you have someone who can take care of your cat?” The man asked Rob.

“Yeah, I’ll text my neighbor.” He did so.

Inside, the EMT’s younger female partner, picked Sandy’s urn up off the floor and placed it onto what appeared to be a shrine to his late wife. Once the urn was safely back where it belonged, the woman shut the front door, and moved to the ambulance.

They took Rob to the asylum so he could finally deal with the unexpected passing of his wife earlier that month.

Not wanting to believe she was dead, Rob’s mind had allowed her to live on. Now, after his cat knocked her urn off the table, he would have to face reality, face his grief and find a way to keep going. As do we all, eventually.

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Fiction © Copyright Jaime Johnesee
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Jaime Johnesee:


Shifters: A Samantha Reece Mystery

When a serial killer begins leaving remains of victims in hotel bathtubs all over town FBI Agent Samantha Reece makes it her business to stop him.

This detective’s got an ace up her sleeve in the form of her ability to shift into the guise of a were panther. As she tracks down the cold-hearted murderer she also has to contend with an anti-shifter group determined to destroy her.

Not to mention the black jaguar who turned her decides to come sauntering back into her life.

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

Posted on January 21, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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One Last Call Before the End
by Melissa R. Mendelson

I was late arriving at the Ocean Park Motel.  I didn’t know what to pack, so I threw everything I could into one suitcase.  I put Fluffy in her carrying case, and I ran out the door.  But like I said, I was late.  I didn’t know if he would still be waiting for me.  When I walked into the lobby area, he wasn’t there.

“He said if he wasn’t here, to go to Room 103,” I said to myself, and Fluffy meowed in response.  “I know, Fluffy.  I know he said no animals, but I’m not leaving you behind.”

The man sitting behind the plate glass window at the reception desk did not look amused.  He did not look annoyed.  He seemed defeated.  “Room 103?”  He asked.  “All yours.”  He turned in his chair to grab the key.

“Is it available?”  I asked.  “Is anyone in there?”

“No one is here except for you and me.”  He slammed the key down onto the desk and slid it over to me.  “They’re either underground, home, or dead.”  His eyes cut into mine.  “It’s just you and me.”

I took my wallet out, but I saw the man shake his head.

“Money don’t matter anymore.  Nothing matters anymore.  Just don’t take the elevator.  You might never get out, but maybe, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

“Thanks.”  I grabbed the key, picked up my suitcase and carrying case.  I wanted to say something else, but the look in his eyes said it all.  I hurried to the room, hoping that the phone was ringing.  It wasn’t.

“It’s okay, Fluffy.  Everything’s okay.”  I opened the carrying case, but the cat remained where she was.  “He’ll call, and he’ll come get us.”  I glanced at the phone on top of the dresser.  “He’ll call,” I said.

I didn’t switch on the television set.  It probably wasn’t working anyway, and a sound echoed outside the window.  It sounded like a gunshot.  Those that weren’t underground, home or dead were outside, completely insane.  They weren’t going down without a fight.  But they were going down.

“He’ll call.”  I glanced outside the window.  The skies were dark brown, and even inside, I could feel the growing heat.  “Please.  Please call.”

Fluffy meowed.  She was no longer in the carrying case but under the bed.  Once she got under a bed or other furniture, it would be hard to get her out.  I wasn’t even going to try.

“Why did you have to be late?”  I moved away from the window and sat on the floor.  “Why didn’t you just believe him?”  But the truth was that no one knew what the truth was.  We believed what we wanted to believe, and the smart ones ran underground.  He was one of the smart ones.  I wasn’t.

The phone rang.  I jumped, my body lifted up into the air, a jolt running through me.  I grabbed the phone, ignoring how sticky it was, and put the handset to my ear.  “Hello,” I nearly cried.  “Hello?”

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “You were late, and I had to go.”

“But you’ll come back, right?  You’ll come back for me?”

“I’m sorry.  I really am.”  He ended the call.

“No.  Wait.  Please, wait.”  I looked at the phone in my hand.  “Why was I late?  Why couldn’t I have just believed you?”  I hung up the phone and heard my cat meow from underneath the bed.

I walked toward the window and looked outside.  The glass on the window reminded me of melted wax, even burning my fingers like wax would.

“Is this it?”  Fluffy surprised me by rubbing against my legs, and I picked up the cat, holding her against my chest.  “Is this how it ends?”

.

Fiction © Copyright Melissa R. Mendelson
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.
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About Author Melissa R. Mendelson:

Melissa R. Mendelson is a horror, science-fiction, dystopian author.  She is also a poet and has a prose poetry collection called, This Will Remain With Us published by Wild Ink Publishing.  She plans on completing two novellas and two novels for 2024.

If you’d like to learn more about Melissa, you can visit her accounts here: www.MelissaMendelson.com

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Angela Yuriko Smith @AngelaYSmith @darc_nina #LoH

Posted on January 20, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Gatekeeper
by Angela Yuriko Smith

They thought they could hold me

with enchantment, trapped in iron

and reduced to ornamentation…

a trifle barely noticed, some thing

to knock around, knock down

knock up. They thought wrong.

.

They put a ring on me, an ownership

and imprisoned me here, a position

of exclusion, meant to keep me outside

ostracized, no entry, unwelcome. 

.

They forgot that from the outside

I have the best view. I see it all.

It’s through me they must pass 

to their place of privilege. They

shut me outside, excluded me

and thus I have become 

their gatekeeper.

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More from Angela Yuriko Smith:

Angela Yuriko Smith is an American poet, author and co-publisher of Space and Time magazine, a publication that has been printing speculative fiction, art and poetry since 1966. Together we build a poem as a community each month. Visit “Exquisite Corpse” at SpaceandTime.net to submit.

Catch up with Angela here!

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

Posted on January 20, 2024 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Broken
by A.F. Stewart

On stormy days, you can hear the wind gusts through the broken window, the ragged edges of the glass pane rattling in protest. Not that it matters anymore in this abandoned house. The wind is just another peripheral ghost in a place of the damned.

Was it ever a happy home? Perhaps, once, but those times are hard to remember now. After that day, misery seeped into the brick, corroding the building with a melancholic taint. No one who comes here feels joy, as if the air itself is forlorn, stale with tragedy; some said they even heard the faint echoes of my screams.

You can still see it, a faint discoloration in the wood grain at the bottom of the stairs; a stain of red that no scrubbing would lift. There are other scars too; a nick in the bannister where I bounced, and scuffs on the top stairs.

I remember it all. One wayward push was all it took, one vicious, careless moment in anger. My body, suddenly airborne, tossed into the grip of gravity and falling… then the crack of bone when I landed into stillness and darkness.

Death settled into the house that day and never left…

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More from A.F. Stewart:

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Visions and Nightmares

Tragedy spares no one… and takes no prisoners.
In the twilight shadows, secrets are revealed past the whispers of madness.

Wander into the realm of the old gods with Elenora, where humanity and marriage are a prison.
Step through a looking glass of dark horrors with an Alice you never knew.
Join with Zenna to seek the truth as her death by magic grows closer.
Journey with Olivia as she crosses paths with a monster of the forest and runs for her life.
Watch Isobel summon the faerie to solve her problem of an unwanted husband.
Shiver as Doctor Killbride experiments with corpses to create life from death.
All that and more await within the pages.

Ten stories. Ten women.
Who will survive? Who will fall? And who will succumb to their inner evil?
Find out in Visions and Nightmares.

Warning: This book contains disturbing scenes that may be upsetting to some readers.

Available on Amazon!

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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 Suzie Lockhart @SuzieNBruce2 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on December 31, 2023 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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The Crossing 
by Suzie Lockhart 

Donald

I stare blankly through the train’s frosted window as light snow blankets the landscape. It is a peaceful scene, however, does nothing to calm the unsettled feeling I have…leaving my daughter with that man.

Madly in-love the two were, Vivian had informed me.

So, naturally I traveled to meet her betrothed. My daughter was a gift later in life. Unfortunately, my lovely wife, Amelia had passed from tuberculosis, before seeing Vivian grow into a woman.

Thus, it was I alone, tasked with helping my only child prepare for upcoming nuptials. She’d only been away at school, studying to be a teacher, for three months when she met the ‘man of her dreams,’ a graduating biology major.

I clearly recall the instant my eyes met Roderick’s steely gaze; I knew he was not a proper man, certainly not for my little girl. Of course, at eighteen Viv was no longer a child. But this man…

Older than her, he presented himself as quite charming; a particular type of charm that belies a darkness beneath. Any rationale man of my age could recognize such an exaggerated facade. And he was cunning. Yes, Roderick was certainly quite cunning, as I discovered in the years that followed.

My daughter quit school after marrying that bastard. It wasn’t long until she was expecting their first child, which Viv miscarried at 16 weeks. Heartbroken and in a weakened state, I immediately booked a train again, to be at her side.

I believe it was fall, and there came an early frost…

The train whistle blows, and I hear the hiss of the steam. It breaks me out of my reverie. I look around the compartment, realizing with a start that I’m alone. I sigh, feeling as if I’ve been riding on this train forever.

My memory isn’t always as sharp as it once was, except when it comes to my wife Amelia, our Vivian, and that horrible monster she married.

Although he’d not yet wanted to start a family, my daughter assured me that he’d taken excellent care of her. Vivian told me how he’d made her breakfast, and a special blend of tea, every morning before heading to work.

The moment I saw my little girl, my heart was seized with pain exclusive to a parent. There was a pallor about her I found particularly concerning; not to mention she could barely get out of bed.

I searched for that ‘special’ tea blend, but initially found only sweet tea and honey. Being a tall man, I opened a cupboard higher up. After a moment, I found that tea. Special indeed.

I’d run an Apothecary for years, so I knew black cohosh and pennyroyal when I saw, and smelled, them.

I presented Vivian with my findings.

We fought.

She screamed at me to leave. I never saw my Vivian again. I just can’t remember why.

During the long train ride home, an early, heavy snowstorm raged. I continually relive the horror of a train rushing towards the one I rode…

.

Vivian

A train whistle blows

From around the bend;

My chance at love

Has reached its end.

One final blow in a moment of rage.

Thirty years pass before my eyes

Realizing the error of my ways.

Consistently too bold

for a life yearned to live

At first it was grand,

Those nights full of passion.

That turned to never-ending days

Until I’d nothing left to give.

Emptiness filled my heart,

As no children I’d borne.

Resigned to my fate,

time to take action

My marriage had failed

Thus no longer mattered.

My wish— to return home

My heart had been shattered,

Roderick nearly destroyed me

Hopes and dreams are scattered.

Through train window snow glistens

Creating an iridescent illusion

which hide hot tears of regret

Turned into snowflakes,

frosted and tattered.

The crossing of trains,

collecting souls as they die.

In that moment I see him—Daddy! I cry

I rush into his arms, so open and loving,

Sensations missed for so long.

That bond of belonging

I don’t care how he’d appeared

How he was here…

Sobbing in sorrow, he held me near

Assured me all would be well

As a tunnel of light

swirling snow does reveal.

.

Donald

My daughter! My world!

Absent from her, I’d been lost

I’d remained on this train

Many a long years!

Now together, I’m found,

Taking her hand

I see what matters:

Smiling as we walk

father and daughter

Into a void filled with peace,

Love and light;

We both leave what lies behind

Escaping the maw

of never-ending night.

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Fiction © Copyright Suzie Lockhart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Suzie Lockhart:

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!

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

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

Posted on December 30, 2023 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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See a Need, Fill a Need 
by Selah Janel 

The woods enveloped Gray in a cold, faded world of nothing. I shouldn’t have returned. It was far too late for the thought to have weight. He’d let his childhood village beckon him back. He’d taken the gold. He’d walked through the near-empty lanes with no one to greet him.

Now, Gray was alone with the woods and the ravens.

The birds perched covered the once-bustling village. He’d dispatched as many as he could before taking to the woods with bloody sword. There was talk of a curse driving the villagers out. It was why he’d returned— that and the gold. As a man for hire, he couldn’t be picky. See a need, fill a need.

Nothing existed but the bare trees, his forced breaths, and the mocking croak of a raven. They’d rushed, as if they were fighting to impale themselves first on his blade.

For a moment, Gray swore he heard the tune the neighbor girl used to croon when she swept the front path, then another bird fell from his handiwork.

Things shifted and larger, meaner birds started attacking, ripping his skin with beaks and talons, tearing at his beard. He couldn’t aim, couldn’t hide, so he ran. He fled deep into the forest to escape the onslaught.

He hadn’t realized he’d dropped to his knees until the wetness of the ground registered through his pants. For a moment he stared up through the branches that caged him into the terrible place and into the eyes of a single, arrogant bird that considered him with a smug, triumphant tilt of its head.

Gray couldn’t look away. His mind fumbled for a bit of the old tales of curses and came up blank. His mind grew fuzzier with the cold and the dull rustle of branches and wings.

He started and came back to himself, leapt to his feet and found he leapt too far. He was higher than before, and staring down at the ground.

Staring into his own eyes.

He swung his sword, but was only able to wave dark, feathered wings. He screamed and found he didn’t have lips and couldn’t form words. The pained call of a raven tore through the heavy solitude at his doppleganger.

No, his own body.

Gray’s face smirked up at him. Strange sounds escaped the human mouth, as if it was testing out a new tool and finding that it would serve the need quite well. When Gray’s own voice reached his ears, the inflection and tone were wrong. “We thank ye for your contribution, human.”

What the hell are you? He demanded, but could only croak in panicked bursts.

“Now don’t think too hard about it. Otherwise ye might do something stupid, like run yourself onto a blade like so many of your kin have.”

Dread shivered over Gray’s bones and he hopped across the branch. No. Surely I didn’t… The realization of where the missing villagers had gone was too horrible to contemplate. His gaze flit to the forest floor where he’d cut down the bird that had imitated his neighbor’s favorite tune, stomach turning at the thought that it was his old friend.

“Think of it as see a need, fill a need. I’ll be off now. Time for my lot to make our way and spread our numbers.” The smile on Gray’s human face was meant to be friendly, but reflected pure malevolence. “If you let it happen, you’ll forget soon enough. Or fling yourself at the next hired man who comes through. ‘Tis up to you.” Gray’s human hands hefted the sword and patted the bag of gold on his belt curiously, as if he wasn’t sure what they were, but appreciated their shine.

Gray flung himself toward his old body, but the creature who had switched them was too adept and he was too new with his wings. He ran himself into the ground, and pain slashed up a wing. Broken. The thought was dull and the capacity for thought lessened by the moment.

“Stupid fool, like so many other stupid fools. Our time has come, and ‘twill be far easier than we thought,” Gray’s former voice chortled, as his body headed back toward the village, whistling the song that had been his and his neighbor’s. Once he’d thought he’d marry her. Now, he could barely remember her.

The raven hopped with his broken wing, unsure and lost, looking for shelter or the inevitable as night descended and snow began to fall.

.
Fiction © Copyright Selah Janel
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Author Selah Janel:

SelahJanel_CandlesCandles: A Christmas Tale

Christmas is a season of hope, but also brings the dark of midwinter. The holidays are stressful at the best of times, but when the zombie apocalypse comes out of nowhere, Jamie and her makeshift family struggle to find hope during the season. Unable to forget the mistakes of her past, she struggles to be grateful for the good things that are left in the strange new world she and her sons struggle to survive in. Little moments make for bright spots, though, and with the help of a fellow survivor, maybe she can find just enough light to cling to.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Terrie Leigh Relf @TLRelf @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on December 29, 2023 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

We’re Going to Have A Merry Christmas 
(a drabbun) by Terrie Leigh Relf

Steam billowed behind the red locomotive, creating a long winding trail through the forest. The passenger car vibrated as it surged forward, wobbling to the left, then the right, making me nauseas. I hated riding on the train and longed to be outside playing in the snow. “Later,” Mother said. “We’re almost at your grandparents’ farm. Be patient.” She gave me a peppermint, which helped a bit and I remember falling asleep, which was a relief. I still remember the horrendous whine that woke me from a pleasant dream.

just before the crash

the taste of peppermint

on my tongue

 

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More from author Terrie Leigh Relf:

The Sisterhood of the Blood Moon

For thousands of Earth years, the Transgalactic Consortium has had a quiet interest in this planet and its inhabitants, the Haurans. While the Sisterhood of the Blood Moon works together with the Consortium and Haurans to maintain balance in the universe, the Blood Moon is fast approaching. The power of this moon reveals untold secrets . . . including a sacred covenant with the Mora Spiders. There is an ancient pact that needs to be honored—but at what cost and for whose purpose? The world may come to an end. But will there be a chance for a new beginning?

Available for purchase from Hiraeth Publishing!

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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 Kendra Smart @DevourAllWords @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on December 29, 2023 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Ceruleon Station Number Five 
by Kendra Smart  

“The lights are a lie.”

That was the last transmission that came in the form of radio waves from Ceruleon Station Number Five, twenty five years ago.

Logan Davis had spent the formulative parts of her growing up staring into the glow of projector reels and the cling of newspaper smell hung to her clothes. She would spend hours in a haven of first hand accounts of those few who had been there at the station. Anything for the thrill of fresh thought and knowledge. 

Ceruleon Station Number Five had been established back in 1939 at the end of the Depression. Scientists of all fields had joined together to research the region where the galaxy showed its colors. 

There, they attempted to discover concrete evidence over the theories of the how’s and why’s of the light show that once begun split the night sky like a sharp edge through paper. 

But of the twenty six that went, only three came back. But those three did not come back whole, not in one piece. They came back fractured and mere facimilies of their former selves. Barely able to form constructive narratives of what had transpired…or even remember who they were for more than moments at a time.

Logan still woke in cold sweats from nightmares featuring those tapes. The hollow and glossed over eyes reached out beyond the years and followed her…for hours at a time, even after waking. 

But the call to know what happened was stronger than the fears. Her chestnut and honey layered, shoulder length hair was whipping in the wind answering the invitation to dance. Occasionally a strand or two would be aggressive in the wind and stung her face, almost afraid she would fall asleep. 

The ship’s Captain would take her to the dock, but that was as far as he would go. This arrangement had been fine with Logan. She was here to explore not cruise. She had packed her gear with care for this trip and in the process even gained a sponsor to help fund the journey and capture of new information. 

They wanted their credit of course but fame was not her goal. All her life she had wanted the answers the last transmission never gave. 

What was the lie?

Just what had happened? 

She made her way to Ceruleon Station Number Five and settled in. The night seemed to be doing the same. Logan looked out over the peaceful sunset as it made its trek across the surface of the water. 

Logan took her time setting the cameras up and making sure everything was fully charged up and working properly. She unpacked her PB & J and sat down with her eyes watching the sky. 

It happened in a flash once the sun was fully down, almost in the same breath as the dying light. 

The light took to the sky and lit it up in an aggressive and violent sudden vibrancy. The light seemed to pulse as it stretched further down the jagged line. But as the sky began to glow, Logan realized her focus should have been on the water, not the sky. 

The viscous, dripping substance was warmer than the scaled creature that had her ankle gripped. 

Logan’s last words were the same as those who had sought knowledge before her. Only the medium upon which her words were captured had been updated. A single hoarse and harsh whisper followed by sounds of distress and trouble, shuffling and thumps…all off screen as the cameras were not here for Logan…but the sky.

“The lights are a lie…”

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Fiction © Copyright Kendra Smart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from author Kendra Smart:

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Just Emotions:
A Gothic Bite Magazine Anthology

A collection of poetry.

‘Just Emotions‘ is exactly as it states, a group of writers who had feelings they wanted to express in poem form. Inside, there are a range of emotions to explore. Each writer has given a bit of themselves to you, each in their own way.

We hope that you enjoy these writings and that among the poems you may find some thing you can identify with or relate to. Thank you for giving us this chance to open the catacombs and share with you.

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 Andie Lee Eames @RavenLilysHot @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

Posted on December 28, 2023 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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When Doves Cry 
by Andie Lee Eames 

Greetings and salutations one and all. I have a lurid tale to tell that happened last fall.

My name is Pastor. I am that raven who was perched on Edgar’s door back in 1884.

I heard him bellow from the depths of his shattered soul ‘NEVERMORE’ over and over again. I heard his wretched cries as lightening cut through the nights sky.

He held his quill so tightly that the blisters on his finger tips bursts, mixing his blood with the ink.

It was at this time his muddled mind refused to think.

The droplets of blood turned into a black ash that scorched the parchment as he wrote.

Lenore, my precious paramour, how much I love thee eludes me. My beautiful little turtle dove, how my soul aches to be with you. You’re the embodiment of everything pure and chaste. I would do anything to be with you post haste.

Edgar was a deeply wounded soul felled by the lost of the women in his life, the final straw was the death of his young wife.

Lenore wasn’t even the real name of young lady who had caught not only his eye but his heart. He could not allow himself to speak her true name because it would destroy the illusion of his lovelorn game.

She was just an ordinary young lady who barely noticed him. However, it was her mere presence that bought a smile to his weary face, that bought a ray of light into the darkness that was his life.

One night she was out late walking home from the hospital, where her mother was for a nervous condition. A fiend grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth so that no one would hear her scream.

The poor thing had been savaged and stripped of her humanity. She lied there dead with shreds of fabric covering her modesty. Her large blue eyes stared up into the nights sky as I flew by hearing his turtle dove cry.

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Fiction © Copyright Andie Lee Eames
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
 

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More from Author Andie Lee Eames:

abstractmurderalpeckAbstract Murder

Abstract Murder is a disturbing psychological suspense tale told from the view points of various characters. The characters speak directly to the reader taking them into the dark recesses of dangerous minds while calling into question the validity of good and evil. If you liked “Pulp Fiction & Silence of the Lambs” then you’ll love Abstract Murder which is told in flash forwards, backs, and present time. A high concept thriller not for the faint of heart and one hell of an emotional rollercoaster ride. There are three different killers and you’ll get to see what made them that way.

Available on Amazon!

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