Category: Horror

All Stories, Horror

A Roaming Tat by Frederick K. Foote

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This is without a shadow of a doubt the most disgusting, pig sty of a tattoo shop I have ever had the displeasure of visiting. It’s in the bathroom of an abandoned Shell station about ten miles off Highway 99 just south of Fresno. It reeks of urine and feces and is littered with used condoms and equally used sanitary napkins.

The walls are smeared with what looks like dried feces and graffiti written in the same substance. I hold my breath as I address the two thin, bearded white men in immaculate white doctor jackets with name tags reading, Alphonse and Dupree. Despite the doctor jackets, they are somewhat lacking in bedside manner.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Horror

A Geronimo Moon by Catfish McDaris

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Maybe it was thoughts about Geronimo or the brick smokestack jutting up against the dark Milwaukee night that made me think about the lean times when I was a kid back in New Mexico. I stood outside my parent’s bedroom door and could hear them talking about money, how we’d be lucky to have enough food for the family through winter. My dad said he’d take me and we’d go to California to work in an asbestos factory. A bricklayer friend of his had called the week before telling him about the job.

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All Stories, Horror

She by Ashlie Allen

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My cat suffocated in my hair last night. I could not feel her struggle in my sleep, paralyzed by sleeping pills and anxiety. She loved me with all her life. I was followed no matter where I went. Even when I showered, she sat on the sink and waited. I used to set her on my shoulder while I planted celery seeds.

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All Stories, Horror

Home by Frederick Foote

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I live up off Sorrel Creek road in Gusty Hills. Its eighty acres of good pasture land on rolling hills with majestic Blue Oaks and plebeian scrub brush residing on gentle swells like green clad bosoms in the spring and tanned brown breasts in the fall.

I live in the house that my grandfather, father and I were born in. A solid Oak and Sugar Pine structure with redwood shingles and two stone fireplaces.

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All Stories, Horror

The Violin He Played Downstairs by Ashlie Allen

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He won’t do anything else. All he ever does is sit downstairs and stroke his violin. No one recognizes the notes he plays. Most of the time he makes no effort to play pretty sounds. Maybe pretty noises break his heart because he thinks he’s ugly inside and out.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Horror, Story of the Week

Alfie by Hugh Cron – Adult Content. This may be unsettling for some readers.

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Alfie.

Jean walked over to the carry-cot.

“Ugly wee bastard, isn’t it?”

Graham began to laugh, “That’s whit you get when you shouldn’t have weans.”

She stared into the cot, the kid was sleeping.

“Do you mean about Kylie being a lesbo?”

“Aye. Why did she get herself pregnant, I take it wis fur the money?”

Jean pulled the shawl over the kid.

“Naw! Did she no tell ye?”

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All Stories, General Fiction, Horror

Len Cordy & The Lollipop Guild by Shane Bolitho

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Toothpick balanced on his lip, just so. Hair slicked down with practiced precision. But despite the evil eye and air of menace he fancied he gave off, Rachel Duccini couldn’t help but smile. Gerard Marron, for all his sneering attempts at brooding ominousness, reminded her a hell of a lot of the Lollipop Guild Munchkins from The Wizard of Oz. The way he squinted, the pant legs too short to cover his ankles, and the way he had his hands in his pockets, thumbs out pointing at each other across his groin.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Horror, Story of the Week

The Hobby By Hugh Cron – Adult Content

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Open letter to who can access:

We need to refrain from the hobby. It is with regret that I will implement this. To all involved within my branch, I ask that you cease immediately. I know that may be difficult, especially for the more enthusiastic and extreme members but it must stop.

We have suffered many losses. Some members are now out of circulation and there is going to be a storm regarding others. The protection that this branch guaranteed, unfortunately has to be considered compromised. There will be no more payments taken until our present difficulties are eradicated. I wish to ensure you that we will continue to monitor as much as we can, any future involvements for any potential return to our participation. I would say that the expectation may actually be more exquisite than the involvement.

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All Stories, Horror

The Whereabouts of Mrs Trisha by W D Frank – Adult Content

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I withhold tears as I peer into the furious blue eyes of my runaway lover. His rugged, masculine body is chained to the behemothian memorial stone of a literary legend, yet his murderous vows continue to escape effortlessly. I murmur wryly as I brush my fingers across his exposed nipples and entertain an intense bombardment of blissful necrophilia fantasies.

“What a waste all of this is… I am breaking off another physical relationship and degrading a historical artifact simultaneously. Where did we go wrong, Ed? Why are you acting like such a monumental tosser!?”

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