Tag Archive for: dark moments

eiD ot emiT

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by Liam Hogan

Timing was everything, the difference between life and a messy death. I huddled by the abandoned car, peering into the shattered wing mirror. The shadow advancing down the darkened alley made me want to flee, but that would have been a fatal mistake. I clutched the shotgun, useless until the phantasm coalesced, taking solid form, ready to strike. Which it wouldn’t do if I stared at it directly.

Almost time…almost—

An inescapable iron grip on my shoulder, cruel fangs at my neck… The the last thing I saw was the mocking warning:

Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.

Liam Hogan

Liam Hogan is an award-winning short story writer, who dabbles in drabbles.

Website: http://happyendingnotguaranteed.blogspot.co.uk

Just a Routine Supply Run

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by Brittni Brinn

Phillipa screamed as the ship spun out of control, the moon filling the cracked viewwindow. Detritus pinged around like rogue meteors. An unsecured crate hurtled towards me—

Phillipa wasn’t screaming anymore. I hung from the back-seat harness like a climber over an abyss. At the bottom was a pile of crates and broken glass. My favourite coffee mug rested on top.

I laughed. Laughing even though I couldn’t get air, laughing to forget the blood, to put off the inevitable drop into broken glass. Laughing at the absurdity of a pristine coffee mug in the midst of so much destruction.

Brittni Brinn

 

Inside the Laughing House

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by Sebastian Swift

The abandoned house on Lincoln Lane had always terrified the town. People swore they could hear it laugh. Sam, however, wasn’t scared. When his friends dared him to enter it, he accepted. Sam navigated the labyrinth of rooms and he became aware of a presence in the dark and decay.

He didn’t feel the urge to scream or run; instead, he felt the need to laugh. A mild chuckle soon grew to uncontrollable roaring laughter. His throat throbbed; his nose bled. Sam drew his pocketknife and decided he would stay here forever. The house added another laugh to its chorus.

Sebastian Swift

Sebastian Swift is a lifelong devotee of the gothic and horrific. He believes that the world of dark and macabre literature is an effective way of coming to terms with the true horrors that lurk beneath the surface of our everyday lives.

Fair Game

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by Bridget Holland

Serafina hates working the Laughing Clowns. They talk inside her head.

A dolled-up blonde, jiggling beside her triumphant boyfriend, points to an oversize teddy bear.

“Clear Clown 3, Serafina,” Papi wheezes, hooking it down.

Her guts clench. How did that idiot get a ball into Clown 3’s tiny, mean mouth?

A cackle echoes in her skull. Come on, carnie girl! Crunchie lunchie…

She inhales, then scoops her forefinger lightning-quick between Clown 3’s lips. Teeth rip her skin. The ball pops out.

Her finger follows. Bone shows between bloodied shreds of flesh.

Clown 3 sniggers.

You got lucky, Serafina. This time…

Bridget Holland

Bridget’s a reader, dreamer and writer living in Australia and in her imagination.

Cut to Laughter

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by Don Money

“What’s so funny!” Fedor yelled at the bloody man strapped to the metal table. His first cut had caused the man to begin laughing.

The howl of laughter stopped. “How many have you cut apart?”

Fedor in his depravity had taken apart thirty-six people.

“I dare you to slice my stomach open.” The laughter cackled from the man.

Anger overtook Fedor; with a deft hand he sliced the man’s stomach to end the taunting laugh.

Quiet.

Fedor looked down as three tentacles emerged from the incision and wrapped around him. They began to pull him close as the laughter resumed.

Don Money

Don Money writes stories across a variety of genres. He is a middle school language arts teacher. His stories have appeared in a variety of anthologies and magazines.

Best Medicine

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by Evan Baughfman

State of the world’s got me in a deep, dark hole, so my doctor’s prescribed me

SMYLOTO®. Helps me find joy in unlikely places. Before this, I hadn’t laughed in months.

Last week, I saw a kid plummet from a park slide, split his skull apart. My giggles drowned out ambulance sirens!

On Monday, some drunk stumbled into traffic, got flattened by a truck. I chuckled—snorted—so violently, my nose bled!

Yesterday, fire obliterated a neighbour’s home. Smoke and snickers brought me to tears!

Tonight, I’m in an alley, knife ready, awaiting passerby.

Eager to make my own happiness.

Evan Baughfman

Evan Baughfman is a middle school teacher and author. Much of his writing success has been as a playwright. A number of his scripts can be found at online resources, Drama Notebook and New Play Exchange. Evan also writes horror fiction and screenplays.

Wild Laughter in the Throat of Death

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by Scott O’Neill

The Night Guard trudges his morose rounds through the dungeon. “Prisoners, my very soul aches. I’ll free whosoever makes me laugh!”

Sullen silence.

Then, a knock-knock joke croaks through shattered teeth.

“Not funny.”

Puns wheeze from a thumb-screwed thief.

“Not funny.”

Finally, a raunchy jest about lusty widows coaxes chuckles from even the most demoralised prisoners.

The Night Guard laughs, taking out his keys. His mirth builds into howling paroxysms.

He drops dead.

“Too funny?” wheezes the punster.

The raunchy joke’s teller stares at the keys, just out of reach. He cackles brokenly as madness slithers past his shattered hope.

Scott O’Neill

Scott writes reports and memorandums by day and speculative fiction by night, with short works published by various presses. You can find him on the socials as @wererooster.

When Things Heat Up

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by Tim Law

Sally, Michelle, and Tiffany. That trio made my high school years hell. The queens of the school whose laugh haunted me throughout my early adult years. Tiff was the worst. Those few friends I had turned against me thanks to her lies.

She walks into the studio, Smyth, about to become Brown.

“Just a lightly sun kissed look…” she orders, no please.

I titter when I get her locked in place under the glowing light. Each turn of the dial and my laugh grows.

“Be sure to recommend us,” I say sweetly as they wheel Tiff out, her bandages oozing.

Tim Law

 

 

 

Relieving Laughter

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by Andreas Flögel

Smoking gun in hand, Jack stood in the children’s room.

The sight of his shot-down sons was horrifying. Knowing this had been the only way to spare them further suffering offered no comfort.

The ‘laughing virus’ (no one could remember the scientific name) was deadly and extremely contagious. Those infected died from hours of painful, convulsive spasms of uncontrollable laughter.

A thought came up: Laughter from the children’s room – had Jack overreacted?

This idea made him giggle, then laugh out loud.

Relief washed over him, despite the cramps that made it hard to lift the weapon to his temple.

Andreas Flögel

Andreas Flögel thinks laughter is not always deadly. But if you want to play it safe, a subtle smile is your best bet.

Website: dr-dings.de

 

 

Falling on Deaf Ears

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by Laurence Croft

Tom used to play a cruel joke on me: he would put his hand in front of his mouth, preventing me from lipreading, then say stuff that made his mates laugh. I’ll never know what he said, but their mockery made me so miserable that I ended up on sertraline.

So, one evening, I got my own back. I spiked Tom’s drink, then tied him to a chair in the basement.

“What’s the difference,” I said, when he came to, “between Tom and tears?”

I cackled gleefully, relishing my own wit. Then I brandished the knife.

“Tom has no ears.”

Laurence Croft

Laurence Croft is a writer from London who now lives in Heidelberg, Germany, where he works as a tour guide. His fiction has appeared in the Dark Lane Anthology, Creepy Podcast, The Satirist, and Sci-Fi Shorts.