Tag Archive for: drabble

The First Day of Christmas

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by R.A. Goli

 

Jonah woke, drenched in sweat, heart thumping. He’d dreamt of a killer, hacking up body parts. He wiped his sticky hands on the bedcover, leaving red smears.

There was blood under his nails. His head pounded; his memory foggy.

Did I mix up my meds? 

The Advent Calendar looked like it’d been tampered with. He tore into the first tiny door. A human eyeball stared back. The next; a finger, in another; a tongue. The last of the twelve squares held an ear and a note.

“Do you hear what I hear?”

The distant sound of police sirens grew louder.

 

R.A. Goli

R.A. Goli is an Australian writer of horror, fantasy, and speculative short stories, who enjoys reading, the occasional cemetery walk, and annoying her dog, two cats, and husband.

Check out her numerous publications including a fantasy novella, and collection of short stories at https://ragoliauthor.wordpress.com/

 

Eye of Phone

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by Liam Hogan

 

“When shall we three meet again?”

There was silence as they unzipped metal mesh bags and pulled out smartphones. It would be wrong to claim occultists don’t move with the times, but they did have to be careful. Many a witch had been lured from a protective circle by a demonic ringtone, text chime, or tinder notification.

“Wednesday’s the full moon…?”

“Can’t. Stock-take at work.”

“How about Thursday?”

The other two witches looked at the third with contempt. Everyone knew Thursday was cheap wine night down at The Wild Hunt.

“See you next Tuesday, then.”

The coven cackled in delight.

 

Liam Hogan

Liam Hogan is an award-winning London based writer. His short story “Ana”, appeared in Best of British Science Fiction 2016 (NewCon Press) and “The Dance of a Thousand Cuts” appears in Best of British Fantasy, 2018. Http://happyendingnotguaranteed.blogspot.co.uk or tweet @LiamJHogan.

 

The Kid Who Hates Baseball

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by Alanna Robertson-Webb

 

     I love coaching little league. It’s such a fun experience to watch the team improve each season, and I enjoy helping them develop their skills.

     One fifth grader, I think his name is Oliver, keeps hanging around and taunting us whenever he can. Yesterday after practice he came up to my son while we were hydrating, and water nearly came spewed from my nose when I heard their conversation.

     “Baseball sucks, and so does your team!”

     “Good thing you don’t play then.”

     “Why not?”

     “You’re an orphan, mate, so you don’t know where home is.”

     My son is now grounded.

 

Alanna Robertson-Webb

Alanna Robertson-Webb has been in love with horror and mythology since the dawn of her time. She lives with a fiance and cat, both of whom take up too much bed space (but that she loves dearly.) She’s a writer, a DND player, a reader and a LARPer.

https://www.reddit.com/user/MythologyLovesHorror/

Under the Bed

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by A.R. Dean

 

Bedtime was here again. Billy shook in fear. The scratching came from under the bed. He pulled the covers up high as the creature climbed out from beneath.

Long fangs and dripping jowls. The things rough wet tongue caressed his cheek.

“Hi there, Michael.” It rumbled. Its fangs glowed in moonlight.

The boy sobbed. “My name is Billy.”

“Oh, man sorry.” The creature laughed. “Wrong house.”

Billy let out a sigh of relief as the thing crawled away and back under the bed. “See you next week, Billy.” It chuckled as it disappeared.

Billy screamed loudly while wetting his bed. 

A.R. Dean

A.R. Dean is a dark and twisted soul. Dean has spent their whole life spreading fear with the tales from their head. Best known for stories that terrify and show the evilest side of human nature. Dean will have drabbles being published soon in the Beyond and Unraveled anthologies with Black Hare Press.

https://www.facebook.com/ghoul.demon.orghost.a.r.dean

Dying With Laughter

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by Tracy Davidson

 

If you’re gonna die, die laughing, that’s what I always say. I make sure all my clients go out that way. I prefer to call them ‘clients.’ It sounds so much more professional than ‘victims.’

Not that it’s genuine laughter of course. Poor things are usually far beyond that kind of reaction. But I’ve perfected a cocktail of gas and drugs that reduces them to hysterics. Literally. So much so, it’s too much for their weakened hearts.

My latest client has stopped laughing. His wide grin is frozen in place, forever. I cut it out, to add to my collection.

 

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, Writing Magazine, Modern Haiku, The Binnacle, A Hundred Gourds, Shooter, Journey to Crone, The Great Gatsby Anthology, WAR and In Protest: 150 Poems for Human Rights.

 

The Probe

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by Colleen Anderson

 

Frank awoke, staring into the large, green faceted eyes of a pale grey alien. He shrieked, scrabbling backward on the steel table where he had been lying.

The creature held a long cylindrical tube in its four-fingered hand. “Greetings, being of Earth. We welcome you.”

“A-are you going to probe me?” Frank squeaked.

Another shorter, bluish-black alien behind the other one sighed. “I told you so.”

The alien grinned, showing a ridge of cartilage. “Actually, we were hoping that you would probe us.” It turned around, bending over. The other alien handed Frank the probe.

Frank screamed and promptly fainted.

 

Colleen Anderson

Colleen Anderson’s new and forthcoming fiction and poetry are in The Pulp Horror Book of Phobias, By the Light of Camelot, Canadian Dreadful, Tesseracts 22 and others. In 2018, I edited the Alice Unbound: Beyond Wonderland anthology, and a collection of my dark fiction, A Body of Work, was published by Black Shuck Books (UK). www.colleenanderson.wordpress.com.

 

Blaster of Puppets

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by Beth W. Patterson

 

“What’s wrong? Did your sense of humour dump you too?” I was too preoccupied with my skinned knees and bleeding palms to answer Jason. Portia, his ex for whom he’d left me, continued her annoying hyena laugh.

I slowly rose from the pavement to face him. “Not at all,” I said evenly, alarm bells going off in my mind: don’t do it!

My left arm burst from my sleeve in its true tentacle form, impaling Jason where the sun didn’t shine, wetly ripping and tearing, exiting from his mouth.

“I still think hand puppets are funny,” I replied. “Don’t you?”

 

Beth W. Patterson

Beth W. Patterson was a full-time musician for over two decades before diving into the world of writing. She is the author of the books Mongrels and Misfits, and The Wild Harmonic, and a contributing writer to twenty-four anthologies. Patterson has performed in eighteen countries and never sleeps.

 

Forever Hungry

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by Jason Holden

 

It waits, making low groaning noises. It’s been trapped in this old house for countless years. It sustains itself by tormenting the living souls that visit here. So, it waits. It builds the fear by shaking the jars on the shelf, emanating harm from every part of its essence. It tastes their fear in the air and finally reveals its ghostly form. This should be the best part, yet once more the living are no longer afraid. It’s hard to feed off fear when you were murdered by your spouse for cheating and she glued your dick to your forehead.

 

Jason Holden

Jason is a real human. He left his old life behind so his wife could follow her dream. In doing so he found his own dream in writing. Currently he is working hard to make his dream a reality by spending any spare moment he has working on his craft.  

 

In the Middle of the Night

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by Jacek Wilkos

 

He woke up in the middle of the night. Felt a strong need to get out of bed which led him to the kitchen. He stopped by the fridge.

Hunger?

Opening the door, he heard a creak. He turned around and noticed a silhouette. A pale phantom, illuminated by the dim light from the refrigerator, smiled, revealing unnaturally long fangs.

Looking around in panic, he noticed a garlic sauce. Grabbed a bottle and, with trembling hands, aimed at the intruder. The sauce fired from the bottle splashed onto the vampire’s face.

Nothing happened. The phantom grinned and grunted: “Artificial flavour”.

 

Jacek Wilkos

Jacek Wilkos is an engineer from Poland. He lives with his wife and daughter in the beautiful city of Cracow. He is addicted to buying books, he loves coffee, dark ambient music and riding his bike. His work was published in Drablr, Rune Bear, Sirens Call eZine.

Keep up-to-date with Jacek on Facebook: www.facebook.com/Jacek.W.Wilkos/

 

Gallows Humour

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by Joel R. Hunt

 

Gonzo the Clown trembled on the gallows. The rope rubbed his throat raw, tighter with every nervous gulp.

“You know the law,” declared Judge Jolly, “If you make me laugh, you go free.”

“Right…” Gonzo squeaked, “Erm… what do you call-”

“Louder!”

“What do you call a mime in a blender?”

“I don’t know,” said Jolly, “What do you call a mime in a blender?”

Gonzo opened his mouth as the trapdoor fell away beneath him. He rasped and spat, but no words escaped.

Jolly stroked his chin.

“Not a bad set-up,” he said, “but the punchline was left hanging…”

 

Joel R. Hunt

Joel R Hunt is a writer from the UK who dabbles in the darker aspects of life, particularly through horror, science fiction and the supernatural.
He has been published in a number of short story anthologies and hopes to have released his own anthology later this year.
twitter.com/JoelRHunt1