Fate of the Dreamer By Nick Curry
Shadows danced upon my walls, purging the light from every corner of the room.
“What will happen to me?” I whispered, quivering.
Curls of fetid breath poured between the dagger-like teeth, swirling in a glimmer below the glowing green eyes as the face twisted to a wily grin.
“Nothing,” it tittered, “Forever.”
“A Lovely Evening Stroll” by Jennifer Hauff
Jennifer was walking her dog Zoe, when Zoe stopped to take a dump. Jennifer pulled out a plastic bag and picked it up when Zoe was finished. While walking, she passed her ex boyfriend’s house. Jennifer dumped the contents of the bag on the sidewalk in front of his gate.
“Dreaded Duty” by Lia Fairchild
Harvey entered the dimly-lit room, froze when light from the closet hit him. Heâd been spotted. His strength had been waning, his confidence at an all-time low. Could he pull it off? Sweat formed on his brow. He stepped toward her. âNo, honey. Those pants donât make you look fat.â
“LOVE “by Dr. Whitefield
She died Monday, and buried on Thursday.
I felt her loneliness. I dug her up, it was easy.
I sat her in the car holding a bouquet.
We drove home and I carried her over the threshold.
No one will ever know.
“Loyalty” by Dave Brudie
The woman loved cats, and she had quite a few; cleaning was madness for her.
Hair, dust and litter box dirt made her sick, in a mean sort of way. She died one morning before they could eat, but the cats helped her out; picking her bones neat and clean.
“Digits” by Dave Brudie
âWatch the house big puppyâ, she said, while leaving. When she returned, her dog couldnât breathe. A pet ambulance drove the dog in for help. Soon after her phone rang. âGet out fast!â The policeman said, âThey found a finger in his throat! The killer must still be inside!â
“Novel” by Dave Brudie
The antique store was one of a kind and specialized in very unique items…
A man came in and found a strange, old, typewriterâŠ It created and typed up stories for you… What a novel idea, he thought…
“Death of a mother…” by Sherry Leslie
Part of me taken and never returned. He paid them secretly then murdered me publicly. With no solice I walked away bleeding. The life I’ve known taken. The gifts of life stripped from me with no guilt or mercy. Repeated in my mind. I long to live again.
“By God” by Dave Brudie
Cool laundry room, belowâŠ
An awful smellâŠ
Slipping in and outâŠ
A loud noiseâŠ
Door bursts openâŠ
Something behind me…
Grisly, I shoutâŠ
âHE MAKE ME TO LIE, IN GREEN PASTURES!…â