Evan Baughfman Archives - Page 2 of 3

Fragile

September 11, 2020/by Anny Saludar

by Evan Baughfman

Glass slippers sparkled on Cinderella’s feet.

“They’re beautiful! Perfect! Thank you!”

“Hurry along, now,” urged Fairy Godmother.

“Shouldn’t be late for the ball!”

Cinderella stepped towards the pumpkin carriage. The right slipper’s fragile heel snapped under her weight. In fact, the entire shoe cracked.

Cinderella’s foot shifted backward, slicing against broken glass. The girl fell, writhing in pain.

Her severed Achilles tendon sprayed blood.

Panicked, Fairy Godmother struggled to mend the wound with stitching spells.

Cinderella didn’t dance with the Prince that night—or ever, for that matter.

She became an old maid, hobbling to the end of her days.

Evan Baughfman

Evan Baughfman is a middle school teacher and author. Much of his writing success has been as a playwright. A number of his scripts can be found at online resources, Drama Notebook and New Play Exchange. Evan also writes horror fiction and screenplays. More information is available on his website www.evanbaughfman.com.

Oil Slick

September 9, 2020/by Anny Saludar

by Evan Baughfman

Glistening, black goo coated the surface of the penguins’ pool.

Albino birds huddled, squawked on land. Though blind, the gentle giants could sense the presence of something unnatural.

I thrust a cattle prod into the “slick,” zapping the dark mass, startling its many eyes open.

Tentacles formed, flailed.

Ragged mouths cried, “Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!”

Then, silence.

I radioed other keepers. “Shoggoth escaped its tank again. Stunned it. Bring barrels for transport. Don’t forget the lids.”

Had to discover how the creature was getting loose!

Its jailbreaks were giving the Deep Ones needless confidence and always threw Nctosa and Nctolhu into frenzies.

Evan Baughfman

Evan Baughfman is a middle school teacher and author. Much of his writing success has been as a playwright. A number of his scripts can be found at online resources, Drama Notebook and New Play Exchange. Evan also writes horror fiction and screenplays. More information is available on his website www.evanbaughfman.com.

Exterminate

May 27, 2020/by Evan Baughfman

by Evan Baughfman

They returned with a vengeance, with a hive mind sharing a singular goal: the eradication of the human race.

They came back bigger than before. Meaner. Angrier.

They had every right to be furious with us, of course.

We’d let them all die. Ignored scientists’ warnings for decades. Caused the creatures’ untimely demise with habitat loss and pesticides.

Now, their swarms were massive and many. They attacked with two-inch-long, mutant stingers. Their venom rotted our brains. Turned us into bloodthirsty, mindless cannibals.

They’d found a way to exterminate us.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t figure out how to exterminate them.

The zombees.

Evan Baughfman

Evan Baughfman is a middle school teacher and author. Much of his writing success has been as a playwright. A number of his scripts can be found at online resources, Drama Notebook and New Play Exchange. Evan also writes horror fiction and screenplays. More information is available at his website www.evanbaughfman.com

Evan Baughfman

February 15, 2020/by Black Hare Press

Evan Baughfman works in a very scary place: a middle school! He writes all genres, but horror is where he’s most comfortable. His short horror fiction has been published in various anthologies and magazines.

Tag Archive for: Evan Baughfman

by Evan Baughfman

Glass slippers sparkled on Cinderella’s feet.

“They’re beautiful! Perfect! Thank you!”

“Hurry along, now,” urged Fairy Godmother.

“Shouldn’t be late for the ball!”

Cinderella stepped towards the pumpkin carriage. The right slipper’s fragile heel snapped under her weight. In fact, the entire shoe cracked.

Cinderella’s foot shifted backward, slicing against broken glass. The girl fell, writhing in pain.

Her severed Achilles tendon sprayed blood.

Panicked, Fairy Godmother struggled to mend the wound with stitching spells.

Cinderella didn’t dance with the Prince that night—or ever, for that matter.

She became an old maid, hobbling to the end of her days.

by Evan Baughfman

Glistening, black goo coated the surface of the penguins’ pool.

Albino birds huddled, squawked on land. Though blind, the gentle giants could sense the presence of something unnatural.

I thrust a cattle prod into the “slick,” zapping the dark mass, startling its many eyes open.

Tentacles formed, flailed.

Ragged mouths cried, “Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!”

Then, silence.

I radioed other keepers. “Shoggoth escaped its tank again. Stunned it. Bring barrels for transport. Don’t forget the lids.”

Had to discover how the creature was getting loose!

Its jailbreaks were giving the Deep Ones needless confidence and always threw Nctosa and Nctolhu into frenzies.

by Evan Baughfman

They returned with a vengeance, with a hive mind sharing a singular goal: the eradication of the human race.

They came back bigger than before. Meaner. Angrier.

They had every right to be furious with us, of course.

We’d let them all die. Ignored scientists’ warnings for decades. Caused the creatures’ untimely demise with habitat loss and pesticides.

Now, their swarms were massive and many. They attacked with two-inch-long, mutant stingers. Their venom rotted our brains. Turned us into bloodthirsty, mindless cannibals.

They’d found a way to exterminate us.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t figure out how to exterminate them.

The zombees.