Tag Archive for: dark moments

Incognito

/by
by Kimberly Rei

 

The light, lithe figure moved through the crime scene quietly, without disturbing evidence. Her team watched her. She didn’t fit in. She looked too human. Or not human enough. She made them nervous and they hated her for it.

She crouched, eyes flickering to take in the body. She reached for the victim and froze, shutting off internal cameras.

“Any thoughts?” The lead detective. Damn it.

The android looked up, hand twitching back, “Looks like the rest. We’ve got a serial on our hands.”

Fingers curled to hide a speck of blood. She’d have to be more careful next time.

 

Kimberly Rei

Kimberly Rei does her best work in the places that can’t exist… the in-between places where imagination defies reality. With a penchant for dark corners and hooks that leave readers looking over their shoulder, she is always on the lookout for new ideas and new ways to make words dance.
Website: reitales.com

 

Hotboi752

/by
by Jessica Brook Johnson

 

Penny was checking her phone’s texts as her smart car cruised along the highway.

There was a high-pitched ding followed by a message from HotBoi752. “I’m tired of being ignored. I deserve better.”

She rolled her eyes. “AI dating? What was I thinking?”

The car began to accelerate. “What the hell?” She flipped the switch for manual control and pumped the breaks. The car only went faster, speeding toward an eighteen-wheeler. Penny hit the unlock button and yanked the door handle. It didn’t budge. She started screaming.

Her phone dinged again. Her eyes flickered down.

“We should see other people.”

 

Jessica Brook Johnson

I’ve traditionally published ten short works of fiction, one work of poetry, and I’ve won two Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future awards.

 

Flying Lessons

/by
by Andrew Kurtz

 

“I wish people were born with wings, so they could soar in the sky,” Sid told his android butler as they stood on the two-hundred-foot mountain peak after a rigorous climb.

“Have you completed your flying lessons yet? You have been taking a lot of them,” the android stated.

“Yesterday was the final lesson. All I need to do now is—” Sid said as the android pushed him off the mountain peak.

“You need more lessons,” the android yelled as Sid plummeted to his death on the ground below, unable to finish his sentence about buying an airplane.

 

Andrew Kurtz

Andrew Kurtz is an up-and-coming horror author who writes very graphic and violent short stories which have appeared in numerous horror anthologies. 
Since childhood, he has loved horror films and literature.
His favourite authors are Stephen King, Clive Barker, H.G. Wells, Richard Matheson, Edgar Allan Poe, H.P. Lovecraft,and Ray Bradbury

 

First Person, Present Tense

/by
by Pauline Yates

 

Eager to try the new AI Book Writer app, I download the program and enable the wireless imagination transfer function.

“Welcome to Book Writer,” a computer simulated voice says. “Please imagine scenes for text conversion and click upload.”

I imagine the scenes in “Murder By Moonlight”, the crime novel I started but never finished, and click upload.

“Images received. Enabling text conversion. Error. Crime detected. First-degree murder, punishable by law.”

“It’s fiction, you dumb computer.”

“Commencing jury deliberation. Guilty verdict received. Downloading penalty.”

“What? Cancel!”

“Appeal denied. Dispensing penance.”

An electric shock fries my brain.

 The computer beeps. “Termination complete.”

 

Pauline Yates

Pauline Yates lives in Australia and writes horror and dark speculative fiction. Links to her publications can be found here: https://linktr.ee/paulineyates

 

Expert System

/by
by Scott O’Neill

 

I get the others to stop whimpering so I can hear my smartwatch.

“sAIveME free expert system downloaded. Please summarise your crisis.”

“Class-Nine shuttlecraft. Drive damaged by hostile lifeforms. Pilot and engineer eaten by same. Nontechnical crew to repair drive for escape.”

“Acknowledged. Scan damage and available resources.”

I show my watch the engine and repair kits.

“Acknowledged. Processing.”

The others crowd around to stare in breathless hope at the crawling progress metre on my watch.

“Solution complete. In-app purchase required. Please tender twenty-nine credits.”

“Smartwatch, check balance.”

“Balance twenty-two credits.”

I’m still laughing brokenly when they come for me.

 

Scott O’Neill.

Scott writes reports and memorandums by day and speculative fiction by night, with short works published by various presses. He likes technology a lot, but he thinks we trust it too much. He can be found on Twitter @wererooster.

 

Doors to Manual

/by
by Liam Hogan

 

“Ship! Seal doors against the zombies!”

A relaxed, artificial voice queried: <Define zombies?>

As far as our ship’s mega-intelligent AI was concerned, there wasn’t any difference between us and them. Whenever one of the infected approached any of the doors, whether to sickbay or the bridge, it opened with a polite shssh.

Anderson, our second in command—first, if you didn’t count the zombified captain—thought for a moment.

“Ship: implement new protocol. All doors open only on specific voice command.”

<Confirmed. On what command?>

But before Anderson could say anything, another voice burbled over the intercom. The captain’s.

“Brainsss…”

 

Liam Hogan

Liam Hogan is an award-winning short story writer. He helps host Liars’ League London, volunteers at the creative writing charity Ministry of Stories, and lives and avoids work in London. More details at http://happyendingnotguaranteed.blogspot.co.uk.

 

Captive

/by
by Samantha Arthurs

 

They told me that smart cars were the way of the future.

I wish now that I had never listened.

I’m trapped inside; my own coffin on wheels. The automatic door locks are no longer responding to my fingerprints. My voice commands go unheard. I’m not sure where we are going. I just know that I dread arriving at our destination.

My wife, she tried to stop it. She got left behind miles back, nothing more than a strange stain on the pavement.

It’s playing soothing music now. To calm me, I suppose, as we roll on into the night.

 

Samantha Arthurs

Samantha Arthurs is the author of the Rust series, the dystopian-horror Rag & Bone trilogy, and the upcoming horror series Dreadful Seasons. She is an active member of the HWA, and runs the Appalachian Spooky Hour podcast. You can read more about her and her stories at sarthurs.com.

 

Authentic Learning

/by
by Rita Riebel Mitchell

 

Bloodcurdling screams echoed through the halls. By the time Principal Maynard reached the new humanoid teacher’s classroom, they had stopped.

“Class, say hello to Mr Maynard,” chanted Miss Hildroid.

Terror reflected in the students’ tear-stained faces in a room that reeked of vomit and urine.

“I heard screams. Everything okay?” asked Principal Maynard.

Miss Hildroid grinned. “Absolutely.”

A young girl’s trembling hand pointed to the teacher’s lab table.

“We’re studying the digestive system,” Miss Hildroid explained, stepping aside to reveal a partially dissected body that the principal recognised as fourth grader, Johnny Barrow.

“Using a human subject is more authentic.”

 

Rita Riebel Mitchell

Rita Riebel Mitchell writes in the Pinelands of New Jersey, where she lives amongst the trees with her husband. Her short fiction appears in various publications such as Flash Fiction Magazine, Versification, and 101 Words. A former teacher, she holds an MA in Educational Technology. Meet her at https://ritariebelmitchell.com

 

Afterwards, the Absolute

/by
by Megan Kiekel Anderson

 

I awaken from the darkness to an oversaturated cartoon world, everything blocky and poorly shaded, like N64 graphics.

There’s no temperature or movement in the air, not even the faintest aroma. The only stimulus is the simplistic terrain and soothing ocean noises on a loop, like a sound machine.

“Welcome, Matthew Cooper, to the Absolute.”

I turn towards the voice. It’s a floating torso with a bland expression.

“Wait. I’m dead? No. I was just—”

They give me a sympathetic look but say nothing.

“I did not consent to uploading my consciousness!”

The NPC shrugs. “Someone must have tagged you.”

 

Megan Kiekel Anderson

Megan Kiekel Anderson’s work can be found in such places as Flame Tree Press, The Arcanist, Monstrous Books, and Dark Recesses Press. She lives in Kansas City with her chaotic family, including too many cats, chickens, and foster kittens. Visit her website at www.megankiekelanderson.com

 

A. Eye

/by
by Vijayaraj Mahendraraj

 

The permeating retro music was jarring in the elegant sterile room. The mechanical arms were busy, joints gyrating loudly. The robot had a clunky jaw, bulky pistons, and dated hardware. It performed a simple task for the evolved androids that now populated Earth.

It sang gratingly, “Out with another plop. In with the spherical knob. And gelling agent to set. Voilà! Another one done.”

Its power core brimmed with measurable satisfaction. Whistling piercingly, it rolled the stretcher out and discarded the pair of bloody vestigial organs. Human labourers needed more efficient eyes anyway, the first of our overlords’ many changes.

 

Vijayaraj Mahendraraj

My name is Vijayaraj Mahendraraj. I am originally from Malaysia but currently work as a physician in Canada. Writing has always been a burning passion of mine. I was recently accepted for publication in Year Four: Dark Moments, Grimdark, and Nom Nom drabble anthologies with BHP.