Tag Archive for: Steven Holding

Choose Who You Accrue to Crew the Cruise Carefully

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by Steven Holding 

I didn’t sign up for this ship!

I was press-ganged; seduced by drink and the promise of riches. Slipped a mickey, woke afloat upon the ocean.

Luckily, the cretinous captain doesn’t realise mutiny’s nothing new to me. Quick compliments (YOU’RE NO OAR BORE, YOU’RE B.O.A.T!) and I’m soon first and best mate.

Using behind his back distraction tactics (AKA parrot poisoning) I slyly ply the crew with boozy truths. “This captain’s seafood! It’s the plank, then he’s plankton!”

A pirate’s pact is made; blades break skin, crimson drops diluting our drinks.

Us bloodthirsty lads raise a toast.

“Murder a redrum!”

Steven Holding

Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. Most recently, his stories have appeared in the collections Annihilation from Black Ink Fiction and Year Four from Black Hare Press. You can follow his work at:

Website: stevenholding.co.uk

Dirty Boulevard

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by Steven Holding

 

Skid Row: rock bottom of the barrel and the bottle. A place where every kind of bad dream has been and gone. Here, the dregs dredge up their sins; beg to escape the pain of sadness, seeking absolution from a damned mad god that’s seen all a man is capable of.

The spirit of the street itself.

Under its sacred gaze the scared and scarred are cared for, tightly held within the deity’s embrace of hazy nights and crazier days. Who would willingly choose such confusion?

Perhaps those few who know that what we feel to be real is illusion.

Steven Holding

Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. Most recently, his work has appeared in CTRL ALT DEL from Black Ink Fiction. You can follow his work at www.stevenholding.co.uk

 

Into Every Life Falls a Little Rain, Dear

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by Steven Holding

 

‘Tis goodwill season and the Devil’s fuming.

Despite different addresses (one red-hot, another ice cold), post destined for the pole keeps appearing. Incorrect grammar’s the reason: lists from mixed-up kids who can’t spell S-A-N-T-A. Both wear red, keep company with knee-high entities, but there the similarities end.

Sickened, Old Nick’s quick to teach Saint Nick a lesson: Christmas isn’t white, but crimson.

Come the twenty-fifth, he’s found the sleigh, sniggering, “Naughty or nice, everyone’s due a surprise. Something shocking in their stocking—not Jingle bells, but Hell’s bells and buckets of blood!”

Hidden in Santa’s bed—nine severed reindeer heads.

Steven Holding

Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. Most recently, his work has appeared in HENSHAW FOUR from Henshawpress and HALLOWEEN FRIGHTS from Black Ink Fiction. You can follow his work at www.stevenholding.co.uk

 

Hal Owen

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by Steven Holding

 

Introducing Mr Owen (Hal to his friends, if he had any…) Date of birth: October thirty-first.

Born ugly as sin, but it’s how he was treated that paved the way for later behaviour, not what’s within. Beaten and abused, he decided to choose a suitably horrifying revenge against those who had wronged him.

Every birthday, he slips out into the night, frightful features finally fitting in as he stalks, slices and dices one unlucky trick or treater, only to disappear for another year.

One night.

One life.

A tradition begun aged seventeen.

This year Hal turns seventy-three.

He’s still sprightly.

 

Steven Holding

Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. Most recently, his work has appeared in 666: A Dark Microfiction Anthology from Black Hare Press and Legends of Night: Reaperman from Black Ink Fiction.

Website: stevenholding.co.uk

Gaze Upon a Mountain Face

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by Steven Holding

 

Panting, we reached the summit of the hill. My guide gestured towards the horizon. The stunning mountain range snatched my breath away even further.

“They call that ridge ‘The Sleeping Giants’,”

I could see why. Trapped within its topography were familiar looking shapes: monstrous, slumbering creatures.

“Legend say it’s the Nephilim… Spawn of fallen angels, waiting to be called to paradise…”

Suddenly, I stumbled, as the ground surrounding us shook.

Earthquake? A landslide?

A chorus of a thousand trumpets echoed as the peak before us split open.

The dreaming beasts had been awoken.

And God have mercy…

They looked hungry.

Steven Holding

Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. Most recently, his work has appeared in the collection Dark Moments Year Two from Black Hare Press and the anthologies Trembling with Fear Year Three and Trembling with Fear More Tales from the Tree Volume Two. You can follow his work at www.stevenholding.co.uk

Yule Dig It!

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by Steven Holding

 

He loathed the season of goodwill, but festive choirs congregating upon his doorstep really got his goat.

Red-cheeked warblers, arriving unannounced, expecting pennies for their impromptu performance!

Dozing, jarring harmonies awoke him. “The Twelve Days of Christmas”! He grimaced, determined to ignore the lyrical list of gifts being delivered at his door.

It got worse with each verse, until line number five. Like a broken record, the same three words repeated.

Barging outside, he shuddered at the sight of pale strangers bearing presents.

Five gold rings on five severed fingers, held in the cold dead hands of five carol singers.

Steven Holding

Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom with his family. Most recently his work has appeared in the collections Oceans and Ancients from Black Hare Press and the anthologies Trembling with Fear Year Three and TWF More Tales from the Tree Volume Two. You can follow his work at www.stevenholding.co.uk

The Old Switcheroo

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by Steven Holding

 

All it took was one look at her hook nose and Danny knew that his granny was a witch.

A familiar black cat, dark pointy hat, although her number of nipples remained firmly under wraps, despite Danny lurking on the landing at bath time, desperate to administer a dunking.

He took no risks, smashing his eggshells at breakfast, stopping her from setting sail upon the seven seas, sinking fleets using sorcery.

Granny was suitably distressed.

“Don’t you love me?” she pleaded. “Warts and all?”

“Oh, Nanna!” sighed Danny.

She hugged him.

Then bunged the little bastard straight in her oven.

Steven Holding

Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. His work has appeared both online and in print. Most recently, his piece Route Thirty-Three won the 2019 H.E. Bates Short Story Prize award for best story from a Northamptonshire-based writer. You can follow his work at www.stevenholding.co.uk.

Bleeding, Blending, An Ending With The Living Dead

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by Steven Holding

 

Slow shuffle, like a senile senior citizen. Shoulder to slumped shoulder. Your own odour, Eau de decay, bothers you no longer.

You’re at one with the crowd now.

Amidst this apocalypse, you experience an acceptance never found in life: not inside, doing time, nor in padded asylums.

The herd swerve, having heard a scream, moaning, closing in.

A young girl swings, smashing skulls, crushing brains. It’s not enough to save her.

The pack collapses while attacking.

As she’s torn in two, you catch her eye, offering a smile as you dig in.

Happy that your appetite can finally be satisfied.

Steven Holding

Steven Holding lives in the United Kingdom. His work has appeared both online and in print. Most recently, his short story “ROUTE THIRTY-THREE” won the 2019 H.E. BATES SHORT STORY COMPETITION prize for best story from a Northamptonshire writer. You can follow his work at www.stevenholding.co.uk

YEAR ONE

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YEAR TWO

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