Tag Archive for: dark moments

La Sihuanaba

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by Xavier Garcia

 

It’s five to midnight and I’m nowhere when I see her, dressed in white; a blushing bride.

She’s not here to give me anything like the life growing inside my wife’s tummy, just the birthing of maggots in my gut.

And yet, how sweet would it be to taste her lips, to feel the soft press of her against me.

So, I go to her.

Go, so we may say our black vows to one another; a wedding ceremony attended by no one, officiated by an indifferent moon, and consummated with all the promise of euphoric rot and everlasting silence.

Xavier Garcia

My name is Xavier Garcia and I am a writer/editor from Toronto, Canada. Most recently, a short horror film I wrote/produced won the Best Film award at the 2020 Rue Morgue and Sinister Nights Film Festival. You can find me walking the nightmare corpse-city of R’lyeh, or on Twitter @xavier_agarcia.

Kuntilanak

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by Pauline Yates

 

Drunk on Samsu, I muddle the warning about a white-dressed woman with long, lank hair. Who said that? The bartender? No, a Malaysian beggar; a story for a coin, he said as I staggered home.

A generous man, I obliged, and learned about the mythical Kuntilanak, a vengeful female spirit who lures unsuspecting men and feasts on their organs, her wickedness driven by the stillborn soul she cannot birth. “She reeks of frangipani. Smell that boy, you run, run…” I shuddered. ‘Twas a good story.

Continuing, I meet a woman, lost, alone. I stop to help; her frangipani-perfume is irresistible…

Pauline Yates

Queensland writer, Pauline Yates, loves to explore the dark side of humanity through her writing. Her stories appear in multiple publications and anthologies and she is the winner to the 2020 AHWA short story competition.

Website: paulineyates.com

It’s Worse the Second Time ‘Round

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by C.L. Sidell

 

We abandoned Will at camp—packed our belongings whilst he sweated hallucinations. The risk of contracting fever was too great.

Three days later, we were shocked to find him waiting for us at the station.

“Jake,” he said with a nod. “Lyle.”

From atop the passenger car, a gigantic snow-white bird released a sonorous cry, an ant-like trail of smoke escaping its beak.

The vapour invaded my nostrils, turned my legs to jelly. Lyle hacked up blood.

“You reap what you sow,” Will declared, boarding the train.

And the creature, emitting a series of caws, flapped its wings and disappeared.

C.L. Sidell

C. L. Sidell is a queer, neurodivergent writer who moderates Pause for Poetry (est. 2012) and Wordsmiths (est. 2015) and also reviews books for the Florida Library Youth Program. Her work has appeared (or is forthcoming) in 34 Orchard, 805 Lit, Dread Machine, opia, Quarantine Quanta, Spark, and others. 

Website: crystalsidell.wixsite.com/mysite

No Lady

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by Tracy Davidson

 

Some call me myth. Others believe. None get my story right.

I’ve lived a thousand lives, in many forms. I’ve waited and watched as humans developed and spread. I’ve loved them. I’ve hated them. Or, rather, hated what they have done to this world. What they still do.

My purpose is to protect. But not them. They have doomed themselves. Left unchecked, they will doom all. Time to stop waiting and watching.

I leave my lake behind. My arms morph into swords, ready to slice through the true monsters of this world.

My name is Excalibur. My legend begins anew.

Tracy Davidson

Tracy Davidson lives in Warwickshire, England, and writes poetry and flash fiction. Her work has appeared in various publications and anthologies, including: Poet’s Market, Mslexia, Atlas Poetica, Modern Haiku, The Binnacle, A Hundred Gourds, Shooter, Journey to Crone, The Great Gatsby Anthology, WAR, In Protest: 150 Poems for Human Rights.

Paying the Piper

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by M. Leigh

 

The pipe quivers against blistered lips as he plays the familiar, melancholy tune. The song slinks through the forest, reaching the sleeping village, and tickles the children’s ears awake. Naked feet scurry toward the windows.

He approaches.

The Piper’s pointed boots click along the cobblestone below bloodied green and white striped pantaloons. His face—mangled shadows, masked by a feathered cap.

The children know what was promised—the wicked deal made by the elders. Their sinful debt.

Watching their parents file behind the Piper, following his hypnotic stride away from town, they smile.

Children know how to make deals, too.

 

M. Leigh

Leigh is a horror writer from Woodinville, Washington USA. Her short stories have been published with Black Hare Press and Flame Tree Press. She is currently working on her first novel. 

Website: www.mleighstories.com/

Make It Last

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by Birgit K. Gaiser

 

Grown-ups always ask where my parents are. I mumble: “They couldn’t come.” They know that’s code for a challenging home environment, so they put some extra treats in my pumpkin bag.

I look past them through the door, imagining what it’s like to live there.

Finally, when the pumpkins have gone dark, I return to my favourite house.

I knock. A woman opens. 

In a small voice, I ask: “May I come in?”

Full of concern, she nods. Lifts me up. Hugs me.

I nibble her neck and drink—just a little. If I’m careful, she’ll last until next year.

 

Birgit K. Gaiser

Birgit lives in Edinburgh, Scotland and writes short speculative fiction. They enjoy the slightly bizarre and characters who view the world with a healthy dose of sarcasm. They like to consult their PhD in toxicology for the occasional (literary) poisoning.

Facebook:  @BirgitKGaiser

Sweet Delicious Candy

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by John Ward

 

She could smell candy on the evening breeze.

She closed her eyes and let the intoxicating perfume wash over her, rekindling memories of bygone nights filled with jack-o’-lanterns and costumes and excitement.

The mouth-watering scent lured her to a bustling suburban street where the candy ran freely. Drunk with anticipation, she sank her teeth into a discarded treat and gorged herself, savouring the sweet ichor as it exploded on her tongue.

She retreated before the enraged man was upon her. Looking back as she fled, she saw him try vainly to stop the blood gushing from the child’s severed artery.

 

John Ward

John Ward is a Vancouver-based writer, filmmaker, and podcaster. His recent comic book credits include Scratcher, Acausal, and Offbeats, and he’s also the creator of the 49 Degrees North Writers Podcast. Previously he was a theoretical physicist and was once almost run over by Stephen Hawking.

Twitter: @arbutus_films 

All Hungry Ghosts’ Eve

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by Collin Yeoh

 

Halloween? Really, granddaughter?

You can’t speak your mother tongue. You scorn our ways and traditions. You threw yourself at the first white man who could say “ni hao.” You don’t even have an altar to me in your home.

Now you eagerly celebrate this stupid Western drivel with its vulgar costumes and its children’s games?

You forget we have our own Hungry Ghost Festival. On that night the gates of hell open—and unlike this meaningless, commercialised holiday—that is when spirits really do walk the earth.

I’ll be paying you a visit then.

And I’ll be very hungry.

 

Collin Yeoh

Collin Yeoh enjoys writing horror drabbles. They’re so much fun! He has had several published in collections by Ghost Orchid Press, Black Ink Fiction, and Black Hare Press. He lives in Bangkok and misses Malaysian food.

Trick or Eat

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by Emily Carlson

 

Being left home alone on Halloween was the worst. Too old to trick or treat, too young to accompany her parents to whatever monster mash they were attending this year.

When the doorbell rang, she sighed, dragging the bowl of candy over to answer.

Three masked people rushed at her, holding knives out and pushing their way into her house. They crowded around, threatening her if she didn’t comply.

She smiled at the intruders, relishing the turn of their confidence to panic when sharp fangs emerged from her gums.

Maybe being stuck at home this year wouldn’t be so bad.

 

Emily Carlson

Emily Carlson is a queer writer, reader, and lover of monsters. Emily can be found on Twitter at @emiacarlson or by saying her name three times while looking in a mirror.

Kid Tax

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by Michelle Brett

 

“Hand over the candy, kid.”

Anthony trembled beneath the bully’s gaze. He clutched his basket closer and spluttered out some words.

“Please, no. It took me ages.”

The bully snorted, then glanced back at his cronies; their faces already stuffed with stolen treats.

“Now,” he hissed.

Anthony dropped the basket as he held back his tears. He ran from the alleyway, laughter following him out.

But once he’d turned the corner, the run became an amble. His superhero cape floated behind him in the wind.

Not long now.

Soon they’d start gorging themselves, then the poison would take its toll.

 

Michelle Brett

Michelle Brett is a New Zealand based author, writing horror, thriller, and speculative fiction. She has a Diploma in Applied Writing and is currently working towards a Bachelor in Communication. In her free time, she likes to question the choices of horror movie characters and report on historic crimes for a local paper.