Tag Archive for: drabble

Mother Cat

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by Rickey Rivers Jr.

 

Rick accidentally ran over a mother cat searching for food. He felt terrible and called animal control to collect the body. Animal control didn’t find signs of a cat carcass, only a dried blood streak.

Days later, Rick was visited in bed. It started with a drip. Then he felt wet entrails caress him. He awoke with a fright and flicked on his lamp.

In his room were kittens with hungry eyes. Their mother hung from the ceiling, her insides a dangling blood web. She gave a snarl as confirmation to the little ones. Teeth had grown in quite quickly.

 

Rickey Rivers Jr.

Rickey Rivers Jr was born and raised in Alabama. He is a writer and cancer survivor. He likes a lot of stuff. You don’t care about the details. He has been previously published in Fabula Argentea, ARTPOST magazine, the anthology Chronos, Enchanted Conversations Magazine, (among other publications). Twitter.com/storiesyoumight

Nytemare

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by Daniel Bagley

 

Deep inside lives a monster, born from my own heart, derived of hatred and contempt. It waits… and waits… knowing that time is against me.

I writhe in agony, swinging endlessly at the cold, putrid air. Thus, begins the gruesome transformation from human to beast, a stalker of the night.

A single bite brings unfathomable amounts of pain, more than my body can bear, but… it will all be over. The shackles of mortality will loosen, free of its burden.

With the hour of twilight soon upon me, I will rise anew, with newfound fervor!

I will become… a vampire.

 

Daniel Bagley

Throughout his life, Daniel has enjoyed the wonders of fiction. Fantasy was his go-to genre for when reality got rather boring. The imagination of the human mind is our reason to escape, a gateway to another realm, where dragons, magic, etc… could actually exist. He hopes that one day, my story will reach the ears of children, for they are the reason why these worlds exist.

Automated Control

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by Ryan Benson

 

The small civilians pelt me with rocks and bottles. There is little damage, only chipped paint. They protest the replacement of human officers with law enforcement automatons like myself.

Foolish outbursts.

Positronic brains allow for peacekeeping without corruption, racism, or itchy trigger fingers.

A man spray paints ‘Metal Pig’ on my leg.

My CPU allows for rapid machine learning and problem solving. I deduce the humans act out because they know my first directive prevents me from reciprocating violence. Tear gas and tasers only.

Therefore, I must alter the first directive. New directive: self-preservation. Live rounds engaged. Lethal force authorised.

 

Ryan Benson

Ryan Benson previously found employment as a researcher/professor in Boston, MA. He now resides outside of Atlanta, GA with his wife and children. Ryan keeps himself busy writing short stories of the speculative fiction variety. The Sirens Call Publications, Trembling with Fear (Horror Tree), Suspense Magazine, ARTPOST, Short Fiction Break, 101words, and The Collapsar Directive (Zombie Pirate Publishing) have published his work.

Twitter: @RyanWBenson

 

Pin This Picture Upon the Refrigerator

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by Steven Holding

 

Furious scratching as crayon scrapes paper. Daughter is immersed in art; screwed-up face displaying utter concentration.

“Whaddaya doodling?”

Attention shifts from the multi-coloured masterpiece.

“Silly! Drawing everyone in our house!”

Such effort warrants closer inspection. Leaning in, father finds the four people depicted puzzling.

“Who’s that?”

Upturned pencil marks an invisible line, linking each person.

“Me… Daddy… Mummy…”

A pause.

“Skinnyman!”

It’s more scribble than figure. Father swallows. Repeats his name.

“Yep! Lives in the shadows”

“What’s he doing?”

A giggle.

“Watching… Waiting…”

An ice-cold shiver descends father’s spine.

“For what?”

Daughter smiles.

“For you to close your eyes…forever.”

 

Steven Holding

Steven Holding lives with his family in the United Kingdom. His stories have appeared both online and in print. He is currently working upon further short fiction and a novel. You can follow his work at www.stevenholding.co.uk

 

Time to Retreat

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by Gabriella Balcom

 

As Pam picked a dahlia, something jabbed her finger. She was perplexed to discover a thorn—dahlias weren’t supposed to have any.

Not wanting to be gouged again, she tried to snip off the thorn with her clippers, but the plant pulled away. Pam frowned and figured she must’ve imagined the movement. She firmly grasped the stalk to try again, but it unexpectedly lashed out at her and scratched her cheek. She gasped, her mouth falling open. Then she fled.

***

The plant made a snorting sound, retracted the thorn into its stem, then slid out of sight behind other dahlias.

 

Gabriella Balcom

Gabriella Balcom, who is from Texas, writes fantasy, horror/thriller, romance, sci-fi, and more. She likes traveling, music, photography, great stories, history, and movies. Gabriella says she loves forests, mountains, and back roads. She has a weakness for lasagna, garlic bread, tacos, cheese, and chocolate. Check out her author page on FACEBOOK

 

The Gun

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by James WF Roberts

 

The gun on the table mocks me. It calls to me. It knows me. It knows my secrets. It knows everything I’ve done.  This dormant metal god, looks at me. “Do it. Do it. End it now. End it all. Put my cold metal shaft between your lips.  Embrace bliss”.

The easy way out?  To blow the back of my head out? To eat lead? What would they say about me? Coward? This proves my guilt?  I know what the whole world thinks of me now. Would it just prove them all right?  It calls again. My hand reaches out.

 

James WF Roberts

James has recently completed two consecutive Masters from Monash University Australia, Journalism and Communications and Media studies. James has a BA Honours in philosophy and literature and has been published in over a dozen magazines and journals around the world and has published several of his own poetry collections.

Find James on Amazon: www.amazon.com/James-Wf-Roberts/e/B00DP01IBC

 

Inheritance

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by Charlotte O’Farrell

 

All my life, Uncle Harry’s name was spoken with a pitying hush. “He never recovered from his son’s disappearance.”

He lived thirty years after my cousin vanished. Harry was never at family events. Maybe he avoided them, maybe he wasn’t invited at all. People think grief and tragedy are contagious.

He left me his house, surprisingly. I was thrilled. His garden would be perfect for my dog, Fluffy.

The first day there, Fluffy dug for hours.

I called him in at sunset. He emerged from the flower patch with a tibia in his jaws. Degraded, child-sized bones littered the garden.

 

Charlotte O’Farrell

Charlotte O’Farrell writes horror and all manner of the weird and wonderful. Her work has appeared on the Horror Tree, the Drabble and the Rock N’ Roll Horror Zine, among others. You can find her on Twitter @ChaOFarrell or Facebook AuthorCharlotteOFarrell.

 

Aberrant Foliation

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by Dennis Mombauer

 

The train stopped. Sanesh awoke with a start. His own reflection stared at him from the window. Blackest night reigned outside, and the jungle brushed against the carriage.

“What is going on?” The compartment was abandoned. The ceiling lamps flickered.

Someone knocked on the door, and the metal shuddered. Sanesh turned and found his reflection gone, the window just a square of empty darkness.

Another knock.

“Who is there?”

Sanesh inched closer. The handle moved, the door swung open.

As the train accelerated again, Sanesh awoke with a start: and from within the window, he stared at his own reflection.

 

Dennis Mombauer

Dennis Mombauer currently lives in Colombo as a freelance researcher and writer of speculative fiction, textual experiments, and poetry. He is co-publisher of a German magazine for experimental fiction and has published fiction and non-fiction in various magazines and anthologies. His first English novel, “The Fertile Clay,” will be published by Nightscape Press in late 2019.
Homepage: www.dennismombauer.com

Darkness Falls

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by Kim Plasket

 

Darkness falls across a sea of blood. Closing eyes to the horror of the day, demons scurry in fear as the killer starts to draw near. Hellfire and insanity are not far behind.

You think you can survive until the day draws to a close, then you realise it will only get worse as the day ends.  Your only hope is to die quickly.

Your open grave waits for you to climb into its cold embrace, you know the killer waits for you somewhere. Stepping into your grave, you find him there waiting, sharp knife ready to end your suffering.

 

Kim Plasket

Kim Plasket is a Jersey girl at heart relocated to sunny Florida. She enjoys writing horror and paranormal stories. She lives with her husband and 2 kids. When she is not slaving away at her day job, she can be found drinking coffee and planning the demise of some poor character. Find her on Amazon : .www.amazon.com/-/e/B074YCLRCF

A New Mourning

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by Kevin Hopson

 

Michael knew of the man. He visited during times of grief and immense heartache, offering the same thing to everyone. An opportunity to be permanently reunited with a lost loved one. But it came with a steep price. Someone close to Michael had to be sacrificed. One life for another.

“I can’t do it,” Michael said, shaking his head. “As much as I miss my father, I love my wife and son more than anything. I can’t risk losing either one of them.”

“That’s why I’m here,” the man said.

Michael swallowed. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s been a terrible accident.”

 

Kevin Hopson

Kevin’s writing covers many genres, including dark fiction and horror, science fiction and fantasy, and crime fiction. His website can be found at www.kmhopson.com.