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

Posted on June 22, 2022 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Unexpected Things in the Dark
by A.F. Stewart

“Patrol Team Omega, this is Control Ship Alpha. Do you read, Commander Sharp? What’s your status?”

Answering the orbiting starship, the exploratory team leader’s voice crackles over the bridge communications system, “The entire planet is shrouded in grey cloud cover. It’s not just atmospheric. Nothing but rock and mist, Captain. No sign of habitable terrain or lifeforms.”

“Did you locate the mineral deposits yet? We still can’t get a reading from orbit.”

“Not surprised, sir. I think the topography is playing havoc with sensors. But we may have located the source. Some kind of cavern. We’re moving forward to investigate.”

The bridge fell silent as they awaited the team’s next communication. Then…

“Captain, sir. Something’s not right. It’s not mineral deposits. It’s—it’s something else. I can only describe it as a hoard.”

“A what?”

“Wait, is something moving back there? No, it can’t be! They’re not real. Dragons aren’t real!” A terrifying roar echoed across comms, followed by the shout of, “Run! Run!”

Screams engulfed the channel before dissolving into static…

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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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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Elaine Pascale @DocLaney @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on June 21, 2022 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Violet 
by Elaine Pascale

I say my name is violet, like the flower.

I say I am fifteen; I play the flute.

He says he likes my braces. He tells me I look younger.

“Late bloomer,” I reply, enjoying the extended metaphor.

He can’t see the real me behind the words on the screen. He can’t see the real me as he wants so much for this fantasy to be true.

He asks for pics. He says I am probably “fresh as a daisy.” I can hear him salivating as he types. That is not a lie. I am that close, only he does not know it.

“Violet,” I correct. If he could see me, his lust would dry up and he would die of fright.

He tells me he knows me; he says he goes to my school, and he watches me in the hallway. He is trying to sow seeds of curiosity. The generation he believes I belong to loves this type of game. He has not been a student in grade school in at least twenty years.

“Maybe we could hang out,” I say. He doesn’t know that he was messaging me a week ago. I had used the name Rose then. We had exchanged many of the same banal flower-inspired quips. He targets so many “girls” that he has to reuse the same material. He had told me I could come over (with the ruse that his “parents were away”). I confirmed that he was inviting me into his home, and he replied, “yeah.”

That was all I needed.

I didn’t want him last week. Tonight, I do. “I am kind of lonely,” I say, hoping that takes root.

I am dishonest like he is. I am 40 times the age I claim. I don’t want to talk to him or watch movies. I want to bathe in his blood.

I can smell his arousal shifting. I can see over his shoulder that he has opened another browser to chat with someone else. He believes he is the predator in this relationship.

I nip this in the bud. I am tired of waiting. I emerge from the shadows to take what I crave.

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Fiction © Copyright Elaine Pascale
Image courtesy of Pixaby.com

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More from Elaine Pascale:

The Blood Lights

They victimize all…

Jezzie Mitchell is in anguish; with her brother’s murder still on her mind, she’s noticed strange behavior among the girls in the residential treatment center where she works. Is there a connection between the contagion on Cape Cod and the deadly Bahamas vacation that changed her life?

Jezzie reaches out to former lover Lou Collins, a scholar who has chased proof of the lights for decades. Will he be able to solve the mystery of the lights in time?

Intensely competitive, reporter Bridgette Collins knows the lights are a way to secure fame in her career. And while it’ll put the final nail into the coffin of her ex-husband’s career, she vows to know the secrets of the lights. Even if it means unleashing a world-wide epidemic…

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Amy Zoellers @breakfastpoet @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on June 21, 2022 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Sinkhole Song
by Amy Zoellers

When you awaken

and sense your location

at the edge of the hole

where the water flows

down into miles of canyon….

what summons you here

night after night

closer and closer to

slippery brink?

Whose lair is down there?

Whose singing is that?

For what do they thirst?

They sound thirsty.

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Fiction © Copyright Amy Zoellers
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.
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About Amy Zoellers:

AmyZoellers_3Art! Fun!! Poetry and song! Portraits, dolls, prints, jewelry… and so much more! Click on her Instagram profile for more info: Hipness and Outrage!

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

Posted on June 20, 2022 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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About My Mum 
by Marge Simon 

When I was a wee baby, Mum left me on a railroad track because my crying hurt her head.

I was quieted by the vibrations of the trestles until far off came the train horn, a tiny light in the morning mist, drawing closer. Mum went off in a bad mood and swung an axe at several neighbors, but they were used to her weird behavior. When the train wheels came in a thunderation of passage, my wails were not a part of it. A man had pulled me off in time. Not realizing what she’d done, he found my Mum and gave me back into her arms. She never tried that again, but there were other things.

She would have me brush her amber hair that grew down past her shoulders. It was like a live thing, like a Medusa of stubborn coils. If the brush caught in a snag, quick as a viper, her fist would lay me flat. I dared not stand up to her.

She was a jealous wife. When she thought she saw lipstick on Daddy’s shirt, she stabbed him many times. Then she removed his skin and hung it up to dry in the laundry room. Later, she chopped up his buttocks and cooked them as steak in a pot with carrots, onions, thyme and cabbage. His head was found boiled in a lidded pot and still warm, according to officials. After serving dinner, she took some pills and slept, doubtless a tower of former lovers in her dreams, their bloodless bodies pale as bone.

While Mum slept, I started cleaning up and happened to see what was in the lidded pot. I called the cops and was already gone by the time they arrived. Now I’m riding the rails in a boxcar, maybe the very same train that almost sealed my fate so long ago. Yeah, I know she wasn’t much of a Mum. But what really pisses me off is I can’t get the taste of Daddy’s keester out of my mouth.

Fiction © Copyright Marge Simon
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Marge Simon:

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Victims
by Marge Simon and‎ Mary Turzillo

The title of this collection sets you up for the surprise of lyrical stories of victimizations with unexpected endings for the villains. Be ready to have your heart opened and cheer for perceived victims, human (made and unmade) and other life forms, victorious in the hands of these two award-winning poets. —Linda D. Addison, award-winning author, HWA Lifetime Achievement Award recipient and SFPA Grand Master.

Across histories and cultures and from Auschwitz to Babylon this book leaves you questioning who are the victims, and regardless of your conclusion you’re likely to get throat-punched. This is horror where everyone has a knife, and is ready to deliver this message: “Remember, you are always guilty. —Herb Kauderer, author of Fragments from the Book of the After-Dead.

Simon and Turzillo have only gone and startled me again. What a collection! Brutal. Beautiful. This quiver of poems strikes with the unflinching truth of persecution and oppression as seen through the lens of feminism. Prepare to come away bruised and yet strangely bolstered by Victims, a symphony of sadness orchestrated by two masters of dark poetry. —Lee Murray, Bram Stoker and Shirley Jackson Award-winner.

This is one of the braver dark poetry collections I’ve seen in a while. Horror poets generally employ victims in their work, but the focus is generally on the Evil. Turning the camera the other way is unusual, unsettling, emotionally risky, and surprisingly effective. From their stark opening take on Pygmalion, to the ending poem about the wasted life of Stateira of Persia, this powerful collection teases apart an impressive number of the threads of victimhood. Some are the usual cases, but quite a few are surprises, or reversals, or cases with unexpected layers. There is nothing repetitive about this collection. —Timons Esaias, winner of the Asimov’s Readers’ Award and the Winter Anthology Contest

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Alex Grehy @indigodreamers @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on June 20, 2022 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Ouroboros Tries a New Menu  
by Alex Grehy

You can blame the plankton.

Ouroboros, serpent, wrapped around the world, chewing his own tail for all eternity. Content, it seems, to keep the planet together for whatever life-forms called it home. No need to ask for more when your purpose is fulfilled by lying there, just chewing your own tail.

Imagine how it changed when sea levels rose and tides flowed high and waves washed over his face. Imagine chewing your own tail, all flavour long leached out, then the taste of seawater, the bitter salt and umami wash of fishy plankton. Imagine swallowing that first mouthful when all your parched mouth had known was saliva. Imagine taste buds energised for the first time.

Small wonder, then, that his eyes opened wide and his lips parted in an O of surprise. That his mouth opened wider than ever before, and that his tail, white as blanched asparagus, flopped out. That his throat, coruscating with the savour of the sea, would try a roar, then two, then more.

Now hear his roar and the sharp screams of people who sense the wrongness of the world. Who sense that all might fall apart without the girdle that kept their world constrained. Who sense that when the cycle of life and death is broken, only death remains. 

Ouroboros discovers his tongue, his teeth. Discovers the softness of jellyfish and octopi; the crunch of cockleshells; then he discovers bones. How they crunch and crack and how the soft marrow flows so smooth across his palate. He discovers that his awakened appetite wants more.

The people wail and pray as, all around them, animals fall prey. They pray for their lives, but the serpent has tasted Jonah in the whale, craves the flesh of those who once believed they were invincible. They wail in terror for their doom, but not for long. Ouroboros feasts, and will clear his plate all too soon.

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Fiction © Copyright Alex Grehy
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from author Alex Grehy:

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After a lifetime of writing technical non-fiction, Alex Grey is fulfilling her dream of writing poems and stories that engage the reader’s emotions. Her work has been featured by a wide range of publications including Siren’s Call, Raconteur, Bookends Review, and Toasted Cheese. One of her comic poems is also available via a worldwide network of public fiction dispensers managed by French publisher, Short Edition. Her ingredients for contentment are narrow boating, greyhounds, singing and chocolate. It is a sweet life, yet Alex’ original view of the world has led to her best friend to say ‘For someone so lovely, you’re very twisted!

Please click here to discover more!   

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

Posted on May 31, 2022 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Riverwalk 
by Kathleen McCluskey

Julia and Richard strolled arm in arm down the picturesque Riverwalk. The city always seemed to come to life for them when the warm lights of the shops began to reflect on the dark water. The Riverwalk was always so crowded during the day; for them, the night hours were more enjoyable. Julia and Richard stopped and leaned against the railing. They watched the small gondolas float down the calm water. The tourists were always easy to pinpoint. The laughter and excitement was palatable and the never ending presence of a camera or cell phone was a dead giveaway. The pair continued down the Riverwalk, looking into windows and people watching. Julia had the uncanny ability to notice when somebody felt out of sorts. She was able to infiltrate their mind and senses to bring them to Richard and herself. Richard never possessed that ability. He wasn’t envious just confused why he had to use brute force but Julia only had to smile.

They spotted a young man and woman sitting on a bench. The young woman seemed to be crying. Julia went straight to her. Without saying a word, Julia sat down and brushed the hair away from the woman’s face. The woman recoiled but as soon as her eyes met Julia’s all of her fears were pushed aside. The man began to protest but Julia looked him in the eyes and he settled. Richard stood behind the man with his hands on his shoulders. He lifted the man to his feet and walked with him to the darkened alley. Julia took the woman by the hand and they followed the two men.

Richard struck first. He grabbed the man by the back of the neck and spun him around. Richard hissed loudly at the man. That broke Julia’s mental hold on him. The man tried to scream but Richard sank his razor-sharp fangs into the man’s throat. Blood began to pulse out and seep out from between Richard’s lips. He raised his head and let out a guttural growl, “Blood always tastes sweeter when they are scared. Thank you, my love for releasing him just in time. Your timing is impeccable.” Julia smiled. She was a delicate creature and was almost timid in her approach, she lifted the woman’s wrist to her lips. She sank her sharp fangs into the woman; still holding onto her mind the woman let out a small sigh as her life drained out. Julia looked at Richard, “I enjoy it better when the blood is calm.”

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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 Sue Renol @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 30, 2022 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Seeding Death
by Sue Renol

This crop grows with the passage of time, the heat of the sun, rain from passing clouds. Seemingly innocent, red flowers populate this field. Yet, they are not of nature. I’ve planted them with hands of wrath, tilled the soil with ill intent. They shall grow, just as any other, but upon their blooming, my will shall be released. Their pleasant scent will be inhaled, enjoyed by those who inhabit this land. But their beauty will be a deceit, death wrapped in a coat of silk. Carried on their aroma will be the pestilence to end all who walk on legs, live within flesh. Their demise will be quick and unexpected. My growth will spread, consume all within its path. My precious blossoms will cleanse the Earth of the disease which infects its once vibrant exterior.

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Wicked Deeds: Witches, Warlocks, Demons and Other Evil Doer’s

Sometimes wicked people do wicked things simply because they can… The twelve stories in Wicked Deeds tell tales of witches and warlocks with ill intent, devilish demons bent on destruction, and other doers of evil who make the world a terrifying place. What is a mother to do when her daughter is gifted but lives under the thumb of her fanatical preacher husband who will brook no talk of the supernatural? What of a demon so desperate to free himself of a trap that he will force another to repeat his atrocities and condemn a young boy to his demonic fate? Or maybe the story of a crotchety old witch with a score to settle against the town she lives in is more to your liking – what evil will the seemingly harmless town-crazy call upon when faced with an ultimatum? If you’re looking for wicked people with supernatural abilities doing wicked things, this is the collection for you!

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kim Richards @Kim_Richards @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 30, 2022 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Attic Friend
by Kim Richards

Bennie loved the attic of her grandmother’s cabin in the mountains. She spent many years up there, wrapped in its warmth and surrounded by scents of cedar and pine. The slanted walls had latch access windows she could prop open. Then she had light enough to read her books or sing to herself.

Her friend always loved it when she sang. He would skitter down the support beams and settle beside her. He lover her and so kept his claws hidden beneath his torso fur. Although his spiked tail swished gently back and forth in the air, he made sure it never touched her tender skin.

That was many years ago. Now, Bennie stood in the doorway of the cabin. Its dust covered floors were a shame because Grammy always kept them spotless. The place was lonely without her; bare without the furniture; lifeless without the warm scent of baking bread. Bennie’s stomach growled at the memory of the fresh bread, covered in melted butter.

Walking farther in the cabin, Bennie noticed the ladder to the attic was down. She swiftly climbed it. Here the attic was dust covered darkness because the access windows were shut tight and bolted.

Something scratched on the wood to her left.

“Is that you?” She smiled

The scrabbling sounds drew near.

She moved to open one of the windows but stopped when a clawed paw rested atop her hand. The claws flexed gently as if to say, “I am here.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t say ‘good-bye’,” she whispered to it. “They wouldn’t let me come back.”

A low growl rumbled from the shadows.

“I wanted to though.”

Her friend drew its paw back, leaving four thin lines gouged in the flesh of her hand. The little channels quickly flooded with blood and stung. Bennie grit her teeth to help herself not to flinch.

She settled on the floor and began to sing. It was a new song she learned in hopes of seeing her friend once again.

At the end of her second time through, she felt a bristly tail brush her thigh. She reached out and gingerly pet it. The barbs pricked her palms.

Leaning over, she whispered, “It was you, wasn’t it? You killed Grammy.”

It purred.

“It’s okay. You can kill me too…when the time comes.”

The thrumming purr answered her, though louder and more intense than before.

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Fiction © Copyright Kim Richards
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Amy Zoellers @breakfastpoet @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Posted on May 29, 2022 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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The Invisible
by Amy Zoellers

They wearied of being invisible

there

under the water,

skin and flesh long forgotten now.

The mothers all warned

as they had been warned:

Don’t trail your fingers

Don’t dip your feet

(nomatterhowthirstytheyfeelintheheat)

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Underneath,

the hidden dead,

(flesh and skin long forgotten)

are weary of being invisible.

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What cravings may haunt them tonight?

To be seen at last?

To reveal themselves?

To welcome you—sweet longed-for,

fresh-velvet-plump company—

into their bone-arms and silt-lair?

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Trail your fingers in the water

(if you dare)

Drench your toes in the canal

(and despair).

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Fiction © Copyright Amy Zoellers
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.
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About Amy Zoellers:

Art! Fun!! Poetry and song! Portraits, dolls, prints, jewelry… and so much more! Click on her Instagram name and visit her LinkTree: Hipness and Outrage!

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

Posted on May 29, 2022 by Ladies of Horror

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

There Will Be Time 
by Terrie Leigh Relf

There will be time

.

to light candles,

watch them flicker,

to ponder myth and truth

before the final countdown.

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Yes, there will be time,

to make a list,

give thanks for all the mitzvahs

while the after-burn engages

your friends and family watching

via simulcast.

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There will be time to remember. . .

before separation

becomes acceleration,

as moons and planets

gather within a galaxy

of glorious stars.

.

Yes, now there will be time. . .

to voice your hopes, sing your prayers

that you chose and were chosen:

No longer lost,

the first tribe of Human+.

.

 (dedicated to Simcha Goodman)

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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 the Alban Lake Store!

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