Rich Rurshell Archives - Black Hare Press

Namesake

May 19, 2023/by Shawna Rowan

by Rich Rurshell

“The Leviathan!” spat ‘Gunpowder’ McGregor. His motley crew sneered and cackled.

“You think that relic stands a chance against the Cutter? She could take the Leviathan and the entire naval fleet with ease.”

Captain Jack Jones cleaned the dirt from beneath his fingernails with a small pocketknife. He glanced around the impressive top deck of the Cutter.

“I have no doubt of that, matey,” replied Jones, “but I wasn’t referring to that Leviathan.”

As Jones raised the Toothtip Horn to his lips and blew, McGregor paled. A colossal shadow darkened the waters beneath them, and McGregor knew his men were doomed.

Rich Rurshell

Rich Rurshell is a writer of horror, fantasy, and science fiction. Rich likes to ponder the existence of the sinister, the fantastic, and the downright terrifying. He likes to explore the darker side of life and what lies within us, and celebrate the beauty in the world and what lies beyond.

Facebook: @richrurshellauthor

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Cheap-Ass

February 18, 2021/by Anny Saludar

by Rich Rurshell

Dana tore through the Obsidian Plaza Hotel, despatching security with ease. Her body had cost a pretty penny, but her speed, reflexes, and combat capabilities were unrivalled. All four limbs and her torso had been replaced with top of the line Linneman Industries augmentations. It was ironic she was on her way to assassinate their president, Charles Linneman.

Dana burst into the penthouse suite to find Linneman and his entourage eating dinner.

“Nice augs,” said Linneman. “Shame you didn’t buy our firewalls, too.”

Linneman manipulated a holographic interface in his palm, and Dana began dancing.

“Tonight’s entertainment, gentlemen!” he cried.

Rich Rurshell

Rich Rurshell is a horror, fantasy, and science fiction writer. From his Suffolk, England home, he ponders the existence of the sinister, the fantastic, and the downright terrifying, explores the darker side of life and what lies within, and celebrates the beauty in the world and what lies beyond.
Facebook: @RichRurshellAuthor

Prospector

January 21, 2021/by Anny Saludar

by Rich Rurshell

Buzzing filled the air as swarms of impregnators scoured the colony. The colonists were strewn around the settlement, paralysed, and riddled with eggs. Hosts to the next generation.

Sickly moonlight shone from the slick plating of the Prospector strolling through the chaos. It infiltrated the colony’s information network, accessing files documenting the colony’s eighty-seven-year history, before flying to the colony flagpole, incinerating the Fortuna Colony Flag with a pulse of energy, and constructing a beacon in its place.

Ascending to a vessel floating silently above the settlement, the Prospector left the swarms to prepare everything for the hatching.

Rich Rurshell

Rich Rurshell is a writer of horror, fantasy, and science fiction. From his home in Suffolk, England, Rich likes to ponder the existence of the sinister, the fantastic, and the downright terrifying. He likes to explore the darker side of life and what lies within us and celebrate the beauty in the world and what lies beyond.
Facebook: @RichRurshellAuthor

Carrion

December 24, 2020/by Anny Saludar

by Rich Rurshell

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, four colly birds…

If true, then Mother Nature is my true love. I won’t argue with that. I always loved nature.

I’m not sure why I stayed here. Leaving doesn’t seem appropriate.

Not while I’m like this.

These carrion crows are the only living things to have paid me any attention. If I can still call this me. A lifeless corpse staring into the winter sky from this ditch.

Just days ago, I was eating turkey. Now the birds feast on me. Nature’s way of redressing the balance.

Rich Rurshell

Rich Rurshell is a writer of horror, fantasy, and science fiction. From his home in Suffolk, England, Rich likes to ponder the existence of the sinister, the fantastic, and the downright terrifying. He likes to explore the darker side of life and what lies within us and celebrate the beauty in the world and what lies beyond.
Facebook: @RichRurshellAuthor

Razor

February 9, 2020/by Rich Rurshell

by Rich Rurshell

I could see it in his eyes. He knew what was about to happen. It was a look of both fear and resignation. He truly loved me, I now know that for sure. He had accepted me for who I am, despite what I am. Even that never seemed to worry him…until he cut himself whilst shaving this morning.

As I entered the bathroom, he turned to me, that haunted look on his face.

“Elizabeth?”

I saw the blood running down his throat and I lost control. A frenzy. I left him lifeless. Empty.

Those eyes will forever haunt me.

Rich Rurshell

Rich Rurshell is a short story writer from Suffolk, England. Rich writes Horror, Sci-Fi, and Fantasy, and his stories can be found in various short story anthologies and magazines.

Most recently, his story “A Date in the Forest” was published in Full Metal Horror 2 from Zombie Pirate Publishing, “Cody Redman” was included in Storming Area 51 from Black Hare Press, and his drabble “Naïve” was included in Beyond.

When Rich is not writing stories, he likes to write and perform music.

www.facebook.com/richrurshellauthor

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Tag Archive for: Rich Rurshell

Namesake

“The Leviathan!” spat ‘Gunpowder’ McGregor. His motley crew sneered and cackled.

“You think that relic stands a chance against the Cutter? She could take the Leviathan and the entire naval fleet with ease.”

Captain Jack Jones cleaned the dirt from beneath his fingernails with a small pocketknife. He glanced around the impressive top deck of the Cutter.

“I have no doubt of that, matey,” replied Jones, “but I wasn’t referring to that Leviathan.”

As Jones raised the Toothtip Horn to his lips and blew, McGregor paled. A colossal shadow darkened the waters beneath them, and McGregor knew his men were doomed.

Cheap-Ass

by Rich Rurshell

Dana burst into the penthouse suite to find Linneman and his entourage eating dinner.

“Nice augs,” said Linneman. “Shame you didn’t buy our firewalls, too.”

Linneman manipulated a holographic interface in his palm, and Dana began dancing.

“Tonight’s entertainment, gentlemen!” he cried.

Prospector

by Rich Rurshell

Buzzing filled the air as swarms of impregnators scoured the colony. The colonists were strewn around the settlement, paralysed, and riddled with eggs. Hosts to the next generation.

Ascending to a vessel floating silently above the settlement, the Prospector left the swarms to prepare everything for the hatching.

Carrion

by Rich Rurshell

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, four colly birds…

If true, then Mother Nature is my true love. I won’t argue with that. I always loved nature.

I’m not sure why I stayed here. Leaving doesn’t seem appropriate.

Not while I’m like this.

**These carrion crows are the only living things to have paid me any attention. If I can still call this me. A lifeless corpse staring into the winter sky from this ditch.**

Just days ago, I was eating turkey. Now the birds feast on me. Nature’s way of redressing the balance.

Razor

by Rich Rurshell

I could see it in his eyes. He knew what was about to happen. It was a look of both fear and resignation. He truly loved me, I now know that for sure. He had accepted me for who I am, despite what I am. Even that never seemed to worry him…until he cut himself whilst shaving this morning.

As I entered the bathroom, he turned to me, that haunted look on his face.

“Elizabeth?”

I saw the blood running down his throat and I lost control. A frenzy. I left him lifeless. Empty.

Those eyes will forever haunt me.

YEAR TWO

YEAR THREE

YEAR FIVE