Tag Archive for: drabble

Seven Swans A-Swimming

/by
by Ali House

 

Chloe awoke touching something wet. As the fog clouding her mind lifted, she realised that the floor she was lying on was covered with an inch of water.

The room was unfamiliar, as were the six terrified women trapped with her. Nobody could remember how they got there or knew how to get out.

Suddenly the water began to rise. Within seconds, it was almost waist high. They cried out for help, searching frantically for an escape.

Their abductor watched from another room. As the water reached shoulder height, a wicked smile crossed his face.

“You’d best start swimming, my little swans.”

Ali House

Ali House resides in Nova Scotia, Canada, surrounded by overflowing bookshelves and unfinished stories. Her novels include The Six Elemental, The Fifth Queen, and The Lightbulb Forest (Engen Books). She has appeared in Apocalypse, Love, Hate, Oceans, Zero Hour 2113, and Pride (Black Hare Press).

Check out more at https://alisonahouse.wixsite.com/home

Under the Mistletoe

/by
by Amber M. Simpson

 

Aaron held Mia in his arms, slow dancing across his candlelit living room to Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.”

Her head rested on his shoulder, long hair cascading down his arm. His heartbeat raced from the nearness of her. Holding her like this was a dream come true.

With subtle deliberation, he swept her towards the doorway where the mistletoe hung, eager for the kiss he’d been longing for all night.

He lowered his head to hers, pressed his mouth to her cold, lifeless lips.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured against her neck, covered with the deep purple bruises he’d left there.

Amber M. Simpson

Amber M. Simpson writes from Northern Kentucky, with a particular interest in horror and dark fantasy. Her work has been published (both fiction and poetry) in multiple anthologies, in magazines, and online. She assists with editing for Fantasia Divinity Magazine and is currently working on her first novel, Wolves Hollow.

Website: www.ambermsimpson.com

Nine Ladies Dancing

/by
by Charlotte Langtree

 

They mesmerised him, nine beautiful women seducing him with every spin and flash of bare legs. He was the last man in the club but he didn’t care; he had enough cash to keep them dancing. It was almost Christmas, his divorce was finalised, and he felt like celebrating.

“How much for even more fun?” he slurred.

The ladies smiled. When he spotted the glint of sharp teeth between their lips, he put it down to cheap vodka and expensive coke. As they gathered round, sinking their teeth into his veins, the pleasure stole his breath. They stole his life.

 

Charlotte Langtree

Charlotte Langtree is an author and poet from the North of England. Her work has appeared in the Inner Circle Writers’ Magazine and is due to be featured in upcoming anthologies by Eerie River Publishing and Black Hare Press. You can find her online at www.charlottelangtree.wordpress.com.

Ten Lords Tumbling

/by
by Kimberly Rei

 

The mall was three storeys tall, with a spacious central opening and a gathering area at the bottom.

The first man to crash down landed as the relentlessly joyful Christmas carol sang “a partridge in a pear tree.” We all stared in horror as verse after verse, another body fell. All men, each with a word attached to their chest.

Confusion scattered the screaming crowds. I saw him smile from above.

My truest love, he had claimed. I knew what the words would spell out: his response to my refusal.

“If you don’t marry me, my heart shall surely break.”

 

Kimberly Rei

Kim has taught writing workshops and edited novels for Authors You May Recognize. She has three published short stories and has become a greedy beast, hungry for more. 
She currently lives in Tampa Bay, Florida with her beautiful, supportive wife and an abundance of gorgeous beaches to explore. 

The Madman’s Song

/by
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.

Twelve Drums

/by
by Maxine Churchman

 

The drums sounded sweet. Jack said he would show me how he got those wonderful tones. An extractor fan whirred and clanked ineffectually against the putrid smell in the chilly workshop.

“I need one more, twelve drummers drumming and all that.” He was obsessed with Christmas.

“Chemicals of the trade,” he said, laughing at my streaming eyes.

He picked up a frame over which a skin was stretched so thinly it was almost see-through.

“See that mark? It’s too identifiable.” He ripped it from the frame and turned his dark eyes on me. “You don’t have any birthmarks do you?”

Maxine Churchman

Maxine Churchman is a grandmother from Essex, UK. Having always loved reading, she has recently discovered writing is fun too. To pay the bills, she runs her own business selling promotional items and embroidered clothing to local companies.

She also enjoys hiking, caravanning, knitting, and yoga. Find her blog at cccmaxine.blogspot.com

Bot Flies

/by
by Lynne Phillips

 

Zacji didn’t feel the bites, but as his body heated, his arm began to itch. Hundreds of tiny larvae wriggled in waves under his skin emerging through his pores, their heads taking a breath before disappearing and wriggling again. They moved like rivulets along his arm towards his shoulder.

Using the edge of his knife he frantically scraped his arm, removing his skin and the larvae, seeking relief.

Realising they had moved across his shoulders and down his left arm, squirming towards his wrist, emerging as bot flies, Zacji screamed in agony and collapsed, unable to bear the paralysing pain.

 

Lynne Phillips

Lynne Phillips lives in the Northern Rivers Region of New South Wales, Australia. Her stories have been published by Zombie Pirate Publishing, Black Hare Press, Fantasia Divinity Publishing, Our Wonderful Anthology, and in various online magazines. She enjoys exploring the craft of writing stories and the challenge it presents. Her priority is spending time with her family while her passions are reading, writing, keeping fit, and spending time at her farm. Connect with her on Facebook @lynnephillips

Visceral

/by
by Bernardo Villela

 

Malcolm awoke confused. Eyes stung from something acidic.

In pitch blackness he groped for his phone. Flashlight on.

A corrugated ceiling. No, a tunnel.

He touched the floor. Not rocky, covered in dark sludge and liquid. A muscular firmness and tissular feel. Fingerlike protuberances brushed against his hand. A noxious breeze blew.

Gaseous.

Sludge slid, knocked him about. Bumping his head into what felt like mucus, he recalled: a face fourfold his size, a gaping maw, being swallowed.

The giant thought he killed me. 

Malcolm gnawed on its intestinal wall. His oxygen limited, he ate in hopes of freeing himself.

 

Bernardo Villela

Bernardo Villela has published the novella, The Isle of Helyr, and three short story collections, The Bloodmaster Trilogy and Teenage Death Songs Volumes 1 & 2, and has short fiction included in Coffin Bell Journal, The Dark Corner Zine, 101 Proof Horror, A Monster Told Me Bedtime Stories, Page & Spine, and forthcoming in 42 Stories Anthology, Constraint 280, and Rivet. You can read more about these and various other pursuits at www.miller-villela.com.

Under Your Skin

/by
by Brandi Hicks

 

I skitter over skin, searching for the perfect spot. My host can’t see me as I dig through her dermis, but soon enough she’ll feel me. She’s done nothing wrong; she just tastes oh-so-sweet and was in the wrong place when I caught her scent. I’m at her muscle now, the sinewy goodness quenches my hunger-lust momentarily.

It’s time for the fun to begin.

My pincers snip away at tissue, I don’t need it but I want it. I hear her now, my venom filling her, making her scream in agony. I call for my siblings. Let our plague begin.

Brandi Hicks

Brandi Hicks lives in West Virginia, USA, loves writing in multiple genres, but hates writing bios. She has had multiple drabbles with Black Hare Press and one short story in Surviving Area 51. Her newest work releasing December 8, 2020, Happy Howlidays, is a collaboration with nine other talented authors.

In Control

/by
by Constantine E. Kiousis

 

The man stood at the edge of the precipice, staring solemnly at the angry tide below, a bottle of scotch dangling from his fingers.

Even though it was asleep, he could still feel it, wrapped around his brain, squirming. All the shit it’d made him do as he’d watched helplessly, seldom allowing him control… But he’d used that time wisely. He’d learned it couldn’t hold its liquor.

Breathing deep, he stepped off the ledge.

He sensed it waking as he plummeted, sensed its horror as it shrilled.

He closed his eyes, managing a defiant grin before crashing against the waves.

 

Constantine E. Kiousis

Constantine E. Kiousis spends most of his time wandering through the worlds he has created, exploring every nook and cranny and constantly discovering new places and stories that need to be told.

He’s currently plotting ways to unleash the terrifying stories hiding in his mind upon the world, one word at a time.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KiousisStoryteller