drabble Archives - Page 37 of 80

Sweet Hearts

March 2, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by Tracy Davidson

The detective doesn’t understand. He thinks we’ll turn on each other. But our bond is too deep for that. It took a lifetime to find her, someone whose dark soul was a match for mine, someone equally thrilled at the sight and smell of blood, the sound of screaming.

Scarlet suits her. She wears entrails wrapped around her neck, like a feather boa, while we make love.

The detective still has his entrails. For now. His body untouched, more or less. He is my wedding gift to her. She will feast on his heart. And our unborn child will grow.

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.

Re-Election

February 27, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by Sophie Wagner

“Happy anniversary,” Dalin whispered, removing her blindfold.

Maia frowned as she stared at the open senior yearbook he had placed in her hands and the nomination page stared back; the class clown, the fashionista, and worst of all, the cutest couple. Maia had been certain that she and Dalin would win, but Stacy and Johnny always beat them.

However, when she looked again, she noticed that Stacy and Johnny’s faces had been crossed out with x’s.

Dalin smirked at her, then opened their bedroom door, revealing both of them bound and bloody.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, handing her a knife.

Sophie Wagner

Sophie Wagner is an emerging student author who has had multiple short story and poetry publications. You can find her work at The Macabre Ladies, Black Ink Fiction, Eerie River Press, Iron Faerie Publishing, Black Hare Press and more. She hopes you have a horror filled day!

Kiss of Death

February 24, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by Brianna Witte

Dan took the blindfold away from my eyes, the dark basement surrounding me. A naked man was chained to the cement wall, a gag stuffed into his small mouth.

I looked at his chest, his heavy breathing making more blood pool from his wounds. My eyes focused on two words carved into his skin, my heart fluttering with pure joy… Marry Me.

“Yes!” I shouted, my lips touching Dan’s in a passionate kiss.

I took the knife from my fiancé’s hand, slicing the man across the face.

“Can I kill him? You know I love the raw stench of death.”

Brianna Witte

Brianna is an active member of the Writers Community of Durham Region. She had received a commendation for her short story, The Hunt, in the 2019 Author of Tomorrow Award by the Wilbur and Niso Smith Foundation. To date, Brianna has had many short stories published in various anthologies.

He Liked to Watch

February 21, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by Jameson Grey

He liked to watch. That was Ted’s thing.

His wife would bring home one-night stands, and he’d sit behind the two-way mirror he’d installed, watching as she took lovers into their marital bed. She’d tie them to the bedposts, adding an extra frisson, and ride them until she was satisfied.

Only then would Ted appear, smiling.

He relished the fear and confusion his presence caused. He’d hand his wife his tie, or one of her silk stockings, and retreat to the corner of the room—where he’d stand, silent, as she slowly strangled her helpless conquests.

He liked to watch.

Jameson Grey

Jameson Grey is originally from England but now lives with his family in western Canada. His work has been published in Dark Dispatch, The Birdseed and anthologies from Ghost Orchid Press, Black Hare Press, Black Ink Fiction and Hellbound Books.
Website: https://jameson-grey.com

For You

February 19, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by Jodie Angell

Eyeing the blue pills in front of her, Faye grinned. She knew what it would do to her—unleash a feral ferocity buried deep within her. That was exactly what her lover, Klaus, desperately desired.

“For you, my love.” She popped the tablet into her mouth, then swallowed.

Her round eyes glowed afire, and a maniacal laughter escaped Klaus’ mouth.

With shotgun barrels resting on one shoulder and their free hands clasped, they skipped down the quaint street of Petunia Walk.

Their idea of a date was warped. Fires razed the houses. Civilians murdered. Children’s screams. Blood staining neat lawns.

Jodie Angell

Jodie Angell grew up in South Wales, U.K. She started writing at the age of eleven, entering children’s anthologies. Her first book, Crimson Kiss, is published with Champagne Book Group. Jodie explores all genres. She has expanded her repertoire and has signed several dark short stories with Black Hare Press.

Twitter: @JodieA_Author

Broken Things

February 16, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by Lillie E. Franks

Some women would have thrown it away after the first argument. She didn’t throw away broken things. She fixed them.

She stayed when he hid in his basement all day. She waited with dinner until he came up. They ate quietly, and she swept away the dirt while he slept.

She fixed things. She fixed the acrid smell from the basement. She fixed it when Deputy Arnold asked questions.

When she heard a thump and a scared, bloody woman staggered through the basement door, she didn’t hesitate. She took the knife she was chopping onions with, and she fixed it.

Lillie E. Franks

LILLIE E. FRANKS is a trans author and teacher who lives in Chicago, Illinois with the best cats. You can read her work at places like Sword and Kettle Press, Poemeleon, and NonBinary Review or follow her on Twitter at @onyxaminedlife. She loves anything that is not the way it should be.

Website: lillieefranks.wordpress.com

Company

February 13, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by Koh Hee Ja

The blade against her palm winks brightly as she cradles the knife like a baby.

“Come here.”

I groan into her sweaty hair and grind my hips, excited by the danger caught between us.

She nicks my stomach only once during the act, and a scarlet dribble slides down our abdomens and adds to the mess we are making below.

Flesh yields deeply, wetly; the exquisite heat enveloping us.

When we step apart, the body slumps, skull rebounding off the cracked linoleum, and a pretty arc of scarlet spatters over her pale toes.

This wasn’t the three-way he was expecting.

Koh Hee Ja

Koh Hee Ja is a new writer taking a happy stab at whatever she fancies.

A Moment of Silence

February 10, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by Andrew Jackson

Mother’s awful tongue was displayed on the mantel in a Perspex cube, swimming in a bath of clear formalin.

She was sitting at the head of the table, looking disappointingly shrivelled, a loose stitch protruding from beneath her left ear. Gemma’s business specialised in rabbits and guinea pigs, but it wasn’t bad for a first attempt.

“How did I do?” Gemma asked her wife.

Ruby winked across the table, twirling a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs around her finger. “She always worried about what we got up to…why don’t we give her a show?”

Gemma loved this woman

Andrew Jackson

Andrew Jackson is a science fiction, thriller, and horror writer based in Surrey, England. He grew up on Star Trek, Alien, and videogames he was too young to play. His debut sci-fi novel is in progress.

Instagram: @authorandrewjackson

The Way to a Man’s Heart

February 8, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by Lori Green

The scent of roasted meat wafts through the kitchen, and Sarah sets the table, eager to unveil her surprise. Paul has been staying out late again, not even trying to hide it anymore. Taking her mother’s advice, she has cooked up a special treat, just for him.

“Dinner is ready, darling,” she says, releasing his blindfold. He mumbles through his gag, eyes wide with terror as Sarah picks up the knife. “Mother says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Her lips curl upward in a twisted smile as she plunges the knife deep into his abdomen.

Lori Green

Lori Green is a Canadian writer who has been writing dark tales since she first picked up a pen. She studied English Literature at The University of Western Ontario and her poetry has been published in print and online at Poetry Undressed. She is currently working on her first novel.Lori Green

There’s One Born Every Minute

February 7, 2022/by S. Jade Path

by James Rumpel

The ringmaster approached two boys who stood near the “EGRESS” sign.

“You’re not fooling us,” said one of the teenagers. “Egress means exit.”

The ringmaster laughed, “You’re smart. However, at this circus, the egress is much more than a way out.” He brandished a pair of tickets. “Take these. If you find yourself outside, you can return.”

The boys grabbed the passes and entered the passageway.

Later, the ringmaster watched a grotesque monster devour the last remnants of its meal. He picked two blood-stained tickets off the ground. “Did you enjoy your lunch, Egress? I’ll send dinner after tonight’s show.”

James Rumpel

James Rumpel is a retired math teacher who enjoys spending some of his free time trying to turn some of the odd ideas in brain into stories.

Tag Archive for: drabble

by Tracy Davidson

The detective doesn’t understand. He thinks we’ll turn on each other. But our bond is too deep for that. It took a lifetime to find her, someone whose dark soul was a match for mine, someone equally thrilled at the sight and smell of blood, the sound of screaming.

Scarlet suits her. She wears entrails wrapped around her neck, like a feather boa, while we make love.

The detective still has his entrails. For now. His body untouched, more or less. He is my wedding gift to her. She will feast on his heart. And our unborn child will grow.

by Sophie Wagner

“Happy anniversary,” Dalin whispered, removing her blindfold.

Maia frowned as she stared at the open senior yearbook he had placed in her hands and the nomination page stared back; the class clown, the fashionista, and worst of all, the cutest couple. Maia had been certain that she and Dalin would win, but Stacy and Johnny always beat them.

However, when she looked again, she noticed that Stacy and Johnny’s faces had been crossed out with x’s.

Dalin smirked at her, then opened their bedroom door, revealing both of them bound and bloody.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, handing her a knife.

by Brianna Witte

Dan took the blindfold away from my eyes, the dark basement surrounding me. A naked man was chained to the cement wall, a gag stuffed into his small mouth.

I looked at his chest, his heavy breathing making more blood pool from his wounds. My eyes focused on two words carved into his skin, my heart fluttering with pure joy… Marry Me.

“Yes!” I shouted, my lips touching Dan’s in a passionate kiss.

I took the knife from my fiancé’s hand, slicing the man across the face.

“Can I kill him? You know I love the raw stench of death.”

by Jameson Grey

He liked to watch. That was Ted’s thing.

His wife would bring home one-night stands, and he’d sit behind the two-way mirror he’d installed, watching as she took lovers into their marital bed. She’d tie them to the bedposts, adding an extra frisson, and ride them until she was satisfied.

Only then would Ted appear, smiling.

He relished the fear and confusion his presence caused. He’d hand his wife his tie, or one of her silk stockings, and retreat to the corner of the room—where he’d stand, silent, as she slowly strangled her helpless conquests.

He liked to watch.

by Jodie Angell

Eyeing the blue pills in front of her, Faye grinned. She knew what it would do to her—unleash a feral ferocity buried deep within her. That was exactly what her lover, Klaus, desperately desired.

“For you, my love.” She popped the tablet into her mouth, then swallowed.

Her round eyes glowed afire, and a maniacal laughter escaped Klaus’ mouth.

With shotgun barrels resting on one shoulder and their free hands clasped, they skipped down the quaint street of Petunia Walk.

Their idea of a date was warped. Fires razed the houses. Civilians murdered. Children’s screams. Blood staining neat lawns.

by Lillie E. Franks

Some women would have thrown it away after the first argument. She didn’t throw away broken things. She fixed them.

She stayed when he hid in his basement all day. She waited with dinner until he came up. They ate quietly, and she swept away the dirt while he slept.

She fixed things. She fixed the acrid smell from the basement. She fixed it when Deputy Arnold asked questions.

When she heard a thump and a scared, bloody woman staggered through the basement door, she didn’t hesitate. She took the knife she was chopping onions with, and she fixed it.

by Koh Hee Ja

The blade against her palm winks brightly as she cradles the knife like a baby.

“Come here.”

I groan into her sweaty hair and grind my hips, excited by the danger caught between us.

She nicks my stomach only once during the act, and a scarlet dribble slides down our abdomens and adds to the mess we are making below.

Flesh yields deeply, wetly; the exquisite heat enveloping us.

When we step apart, the body slumps, skull rebounding off the cracked linoleum, and a pretty arc of scarlet spatters over her pale toes.

This wasn’t the three-way he was expecting.

by Andrew Jackson

Mother’s awful tongue was displayed on the mantel in a Perspex cube, swimming in a bath of clear formalin.

She was sitting at the head of the table, looking disappointingly shrivelled, a loose stitch protruding from beneath her left ear. Gemma’s business specialised in rabbits and guinea pigs, but it wasn’t bad for a first attempt.

“How did I do?” Gemma asked her wife.

Ruby winked across the table, twirling a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs around her finger. “She always worried about what we got up to…why don’t we give her a show?”

Gemma loved this woman

by Lori Green

The scent of roasted meat wafts through the kitchen, and Sarah sets the table, eager to unveil her surprise. Paul has been staying out late again, not even trying to hide it anymore. Taking her mother’s advice, she has cooked up a special treat, just for him.

“Dinner is ready, darling,” she says, releasing his blindfold. He mumbles through his gag, eyes wide with terror as Sarah picks up the knife. “Mother says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Her lips curl upward in a twisted smile as she plunges the knife deep into his abdomen.

by James Rumpel

The ringmaster approached two boys who stood near the “EGRESS” sign.

“You’re not fooling us,” said one of the teenagers. “Egress means exit.”

The ringmaster laughed, “You’re smart. However, at this circus, the egress is much more than a way out.” He brandished a pair of tickets. “Take these. If you find yourself outside, you can return.”

The boys grabbed the passes and entered the passageway.

Later, the ringmaster watched a grotesque monster devour the last remnants of its meal. He picked two blood-stained tickets off the ground. “Did you enjoy your lunch, Egress? I’ll send dinner after tonight’s show.”