Darlene Holt Archives - Black Hare Press

Sacrifice

August 13, 2021/by S. Jade Path

by Darlene Holt

After aliens invaded, war waged against humanity, and civilians sacrificed normalcy to join the cause. Command assured us training wasn’t necessary, despite our lack of military experience. Just an injection to ward off illness.

When they released us into the streets to kill the invaders, I hid, paralysed by fear, as eight-foot, razor-toothed creatures devoured anyone crossing their paths. To my surprise, the aliens fell dead on the blood-splattered asphalt minutes after swallowing my human comrades.

Only then did I realise Command had injected us with a toxin. They didn’t need to train us after all; they only needed bait.

Darlene Holt

Darlene is a writer, editor, and educator whose most recent contributions appear in Eerie River Publishing’s Dark Magic anthology and Red Cape Publishing’s A-Z of Horror series. She currently resides in San Diego, California, where she enjoys reading and writing horror stories while spending time with her husband and cats. Amazon Author Central page: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B093Z6D5Q2

With Great Power

February 21, 2021/by Anny Saludar

by Darlene Holt

When CyDocs became a thing, they needed volunteers to test out the new ware. I was among the first, opting for a cybernetic arm which promised never-before-seen strength.

I won arm wrestling contests with ease, effortlessly ripped doors from hinges, and threw blows like a sledgehammer with my fist.

One night, I challenged a stranger with neuralware processors to a fight. He hacked the arm before I could even swing. It turned on me, titanium fingers clutching my throat, constricting with every attempted breath. The stranger’s laughter lingered as the metal hand tightened, my human arm powerless to stop it.

Darlene Holt

Darlene Holt is a writer, editor, and educator. Her most recent fiction appears in Sirens Call Publications, The Raven Review, and Horror Tree’s Trembling with Fear. She especially enjoys writing drabbles with several appearing in Eerie River Publishing’s forthcoming drabble anthology Dark Magic. She currently resides in San Diego, California.

The Madman’s Song

December 17, 2020/by Anny Saludar

by Darlene Holt

“On the twelfth night of Christmas, my killer gave to me:
twelve hours stalking,
eleven haunting phone calls,
ten severed fingers,
nine pleas for mercy,
eight ripped out teeth,
seven fatal stab wounds,
six organs bleeding,
five chilling screams,
four shattered ribs,
three gasping breaths,
two arms tied,
and a corpse hanging in an elm tree.”

The madman’s song whisks through the brisk December breeze. The Santa-clad monster grins, crimson suit vibrant against pallid skin like the blood-speckled snow below. He saunters away, still smiling, and the world darkens—my last morsel of life draining from my dangling, mangled body.

Darlene Holt

Darlene Holt is a writer, editor, and educator. Her most recent fiction appears in Sirens Call Publications, The Raven Review, and Horror Tree’s Trembling with Fear. She especially enjoys writing drabbles with several appearing in Eerie River Publishing’s forthcoming drabble anthology Dark Magic. She currently resides in San Diego, California.

YEAR TWO

January 14, 2020/by Black Hare Press

YEAR THREE

January 13, 2020/by Black Hare Press

Tag Archive for: Darlene Holt

by Darlene Holt

After aliens invaded, war waged against humanity, and civilians sacrificed normalcy to join the cause. Command assured us training wasn’t necessary, despite our lack of military experience. Just an injection to ward off illness.

When they released us into the streets to kill the invaders, I hid, paralysed by fear, as eight-foot, razor-toothed creatures devoured anyone crossing their paths. To my surprise, the aliens fell dead on the blood-splattered asphalt minutes after swallowing my human comrades.

Only then did I realise Command had injected us with a toxin. They didn’t need to train us after all; they only needed bait.

by Darlene Holt

When CyDocs became a thing, they needed volunteers to test out the new ware. I was among the first, opting for a cybernetic arm which promised never-before-seen strength.

I won arm wrestling contests with ease, effortlessly ripped doors from hinges, and threw blows like a sledgehammer with my fist.

by Darlene Holt

The madman’s song whisks through the brisk December breeze. The Santa-clad monster grins, crimson suit vibrant against pallid skin like the blood-speckled snow below. He saunters away, still smiling, and the world darkens—my last morsel of life draining from my dangling, mangled body.