Tenth Day
by R.J. Hunt
On the Tenth Day of Christmas, my lover took my hands.
Led me into a pitch-black room, revealed her festive plans.
At first I thought my dizziness caused by heavy drinking.
But as my lover tied me down, concern crept into thinking.
She’s not my lover after all, this woman of the night.
She drugged my drink, I cannot move, or even scream my plight.
Paralysed from head to toe, this felt extremely wrong.
The lights returned, my lover smiled, clutching metal tongs.
She prised away my fingernails, each one oh-so slowly.
Squelching, bleeding, gooey nails, dropping them below me.
R.J. Hunt
R.J. Hunt is an Engineer from Nottingham who dabbles in drabbles and fiction. He likes dark stories, sci-fi and fantasy. He is currently working on his second draft of a story about mind-controlling Gods.
Twitter – @RJHuntWrites
Nine Ladies Dancing
by D.M. Burdett
She dances for him; en pointe, lightly skimming the dark wood of the tabletop.
“Enchanting, Number Eight,” he whispers huskily. He watches from the shadows, hooded eyes black as a starless night, dark hair falling across his face.
Assemblé…changement…petit battement. A final jerky chaînés, then she is still. Eyes closed, she awaits his critique.
“Beautiful, Mon Cher,” he breathes, awestruck.
“Nine, how will you compete with such a magnificent performance?” he asks of the next girl.
Nine moans through the gag. Her watering eyes plead as he pulls the rope and the noose tightens. En pointe, she dances.
D.M. Burdett
D.M. Burdett initially roamed as an army brat, but now lives in Australia where she spends her days avoiding drop bears and killer spiders. She has published a Sci-Fi series, has short stories in various anthologies, and has published two children’s series. She is currently working on the first book in a dystopian series.
Website: www.dmburdett.com
Facebook: DMBurdett
Eight Maids A-milking
by Susanne Thomas
Trina and Carla sat at the bottom of the tree. Their axes rested next to them, glinting and sharp in twinkling lights from the festive decorations. They had two minutes before their next contest.
Every midnight brought new tests, a present from their father. Seven days had passed so far; the rings had almost killed them. The inanimate gold hoops had almost squeezed the life out of them both.
The clock struck midnight, and mist surrounded the Christmas Tree. Eight maids stood before them with wooden milking stools in hand.
Trina and Carla gripped their weapons; another round had begun.
Susanne Thomas
Susanne Thomas reads, writes, parents, and teaches from the windy west in Wyoming. She’s an MFA graduate of the University of Arkansas at Monticello Creative Writing Program and she loves fantasy, science fiction, speculative fiction, poetry, children’s books, science, coffee, and puns.
Website: www.themightierpenn.com
Death for Christmas
by Cassandra Angler
On the seventh day of Christmas, my father stinks of drink, in and out of consciousness. My mother’s severed head rots in the kitchen sink. Blood once bright and flowing, now clotted clogs the drain. Everything is blurry beneath my swollen eyes, my throat horse from unanswered cries, the sound of buzzing is deafening from the flies. All I asked for was freedom from the pain, Santa failed me again. Underneath the tree is bare, and my stomach rumbles, painful and empty. My final Christmas wish, that father dies in pain, the final words that leave his lips, my name.
Cassandra Angler
Cassandra Angler is a lifelong resident of the buckeye state (Ohio) and a happily married mother of four. When she isn’t corralling her four minions of darkness she is busy conjuring nightmares in literary form, reading and overall trying to better the world. Cassandra has always been a fan of all things horror and macabre. Some of her influences include Eleanor Merry, Stephen King, Paige Dearth, and Brian Keene.
Arena of Shadows – Six Body-Parts Bleeding…
by John Saxton
A dark shed: arena of shadows.
A heavyset man carefully wraps a severed leg, placing it alongside other limbs. He adds a bright bow, before wiping bloody hands in matted beard. With dripping shovel, he approaches the torso.
A female voice: “Santa. Tea’s ready.”
“Almost done!” booms his jolly voice.
The neatly-written note makes him smile.
“Dear Santa,
Daddy left Mummy! I usually want lots of parcels, but all I want this Christmas is Daddy back.
Love,
Jenny.”
Best of both worlds, muses the red-robed figure, as the shovel whispers down on an exposed neck, to grant a child’s wish.
John Saxton
Whilst also writing supernatural chillers for young adults, John Saxton has had over 50 adult short horror stories published in the independent press; including his own collection: ‘Bloodshot’. He has also placed stories in The Wicked Library and the Terror Tales podcasts. He writes from Yorkshire, England, mainly after dark…
https://twitter.com/jsaxtonwriter
Five Golden Rings
by Joel R. Hunt
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me five golden rings.
I don’t think she meant to.
I’d found a similar package under our bed the other night, and it had a new watch inside. I’m certain that was the gift she’d intended for me.
This other box contained five wedding rings which were identical to my own, even having the same engraved message:
Till death do us part, my dearest…
It might have been a sweet gesture, except that each engraving ended in a different name.
And the rings were still on their original fingers.
Joel R. Hunt
Joel R Hunt is a writer from the UK who dabbles in the darker aspects of life, particularly through horror, science fiction and the supernatural.
He has been published in a number of short story anthologies and hopes to have released his own anthology later this year.
https://twitter.com/JoelRHunt1
Love Santa
by Kimberly Rei
The first gift arrived by courier. The note simply read, “Your Secret Santa is eager to meet you.”
The second gift was waiting at home the next day, hanging from the door knob. He stared at it for too long before dialing the police. They took the bloody offering, and told him to lock his doors.
The third gift sent him into hiding at the French Hen Inn on the coast, far away.
The fourth day, his phone rang.
“My true love…” A whisper, the voice long forgotten.
The maid found him clutching the phone. Fright, the obituary would read.
Kimberly Rei
Kim has taught writing workshops and edited novels for Authors You May Recognize. She has three published short stories and has become a greedy beast, hungry for more.
She currently lives in Tampa Bay, Florida with her beautiful, supportive wife and an abundance of gorgeous beaches to explore.
Dinner for Three
by J.W. Garrett
A sticky red paste covered the cook who’d gone to whack off the heads of the three hens, his entrails now picked clean.
But the trio was still hungry.
Poking a path through the kitchen, the French hens searched for their own dinner on the third day of Christmas. Delicious aromas spilled from the space, a precursor no doubt to them—the intended main course.
Sometimes menus change.
Eyeing the baker, they attacked with a shriek. Eyes, liver and heart devoured, they departed, bloody claw prints the only clue left for the calling birds arriving the fourth day of celebration.
J.W. Garrett
J.W. Garrett writes YA fantasy from the sunny beaches of Florida. Currently, she is hard at work on the next book in her Realms of Chaos series, releasing June 2020. When she’s not hanging out with her characters, her favorite activities are reading, running and spending time with family. www.bhcpress.com/Author_JW_Garrett.html
The 2nd Day
by Jason Holden
I’d seen the news. It’s all over Facebook, Twitter, you name it. There’s a killer out there. The twelve days killer, they call him. He sends the item through the post. If you get it. He gets you.
Soon as I opened the package and saw the turtle doves, I locked the door and called the police.
The relief when the doorbell rings and through the peephole I see the uniform is overwhelming.
“Don’t worry ma’am. You don’t need to be afraid anymore. It’s time.”
Time for what? I wonder. He draws the knife. I don’t need to wonder anymore.
Jason Holden
Jason is a real human. He left his old life behind so his wife could follow her dream. In doing so he found his own dream in writing. Currently he is working hard to make his dream a reality by spending any spare moment he has working on his craft.