Last Kiss

by Caoimhin Kennedy

 

My daughter kisses me. “Heading home,” she says.

Since my cancer, Carrie gives out my treats on Halloween.

I roll my wheelchair to the porch’s edge and watch her taillights dwindle into the night. That’s when I see the girl on my lawn.

“Hello,” the little girl says. She’s dressed as a goat.

“No more candy, I’m afraid!”

“Quite alright,” she answers. “Tell me, did you enjoy your last kiss with your daughter?”

Her eyes go ablaze.

I gape. “You’ve come for me…”

The Devil smirks childishly, in the distance a horn blares; metal crunches, “No. Not for you.”

 

Caoimhin Kennedy

Originally from Ireland, Caoimhin Kennedy has always had a passion for telling stories. He currently lives in Ottawa, Canada, working in the engineering sector. His works can be found in a publication of Every Day Fiction and in multiple Black Hare Press anthologies.

Hal Owen

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

Vengeance

by Mel Andela

 

“Trick or treat.” The childlike voice floats down the darkened street. The sidewalks are empty, costumed youngsters long since gone home. It was far too late even for trouble-seeking teens, yet the voice was there, repeating.

“Trick or treat.” The singsong words pierce his ears, a cold sweat beading on his temples. The voice is familiar; he recalls that Halloween, and the news reports about her disappearance for months after. No one had ever suspected him.

He watches a shadow approach his door, a small claw-like hand raking down the window.

“Trick or treat,” it demands in a hollow rasp.

 

Mel Andela

I fell in love with stories (particularly ghost stories) at a young age, and started writing as soon as I could hold a pencil. I live in a small town in Ontario, Canada, and write short fiction and poetry whenever I get the chance.

Surfacing

by Matt Krizan

 

Karina lingers at the end of the dock, watching for Ryan to resurface. The water shimmers in the moonlight, while cicadas drown out the sound of gentle waves lapping against the pilings. She shuts her eyes as she remembers their early days together, skinny-dipping on summer nights just like this one.

Five minutes of waiting becomes ten, then a half-hour—still no sign of Ryan.

A warm breeze tugs loose the scarf concealing the mark of his hands around her throat. Karina sighs, tension seeps from her neck and shoulders.

She’d been afraid she hadn’t weighed his body down enough.

 

Matt Krizan

Matt Krizan lives in Royal Oak, Michigan, where he spends his days listening to the voices inside his head. Sometimes those voices tell him stories. Sometimes he writes those stories down. 

Website: mattkrizan.com

Open Call – GRIMDARK – Drabbles

GRIMDARK THEME – DRABBLES

Open Call – GRIMDARK THEME

THEME : GRIMDARK

Fishing with Frankie

by Caoimhin Kennedy

 

I bait the hook and toss my line.

Pluksh! goes the sinker.

I look down at my feet into my bucket full of fish. They’re really biting tonight. In fact…

Yep!

I crank the reel. Look at that—another one!

I drop the fish into the bucket and re-apply the hearty bait to my hook.

I think of how that bastard Frankie said I would never catch anything in these waters.

I toss my line.

“Useless pig,” I mutter to myself, still thinking of Frankie.

I realise quickly that statement’s a lie. He’s pretty darn useful as bait.

 

Caoimhin Kennedy

Originally from Ireland, Caoimhin Kennedy has always had a passion for telling stories. He currently lives in Ottawa, Canada, working in the engineering sector. His works can be found in a publication of Every Day Fiction and in three upcoming Black Hare Press anthologies titled: West, Cyborg, and Eerie Christmas Vol. 2.

The Waiting Game

by S.L. Kretschmer

 

I lie prostrate on the ocean floor, clutching the scuba tank to my chest. Silence, except for the exaggerated echo of my breaths. Shafts of hazy, muted sunlight edge tantalisingly close to my supine body. It can’t be more than eight metres to the surface.

Clownfish dart to my left, disappearing into the coral. A seahorse bucks and rears in the ocean current. I check the gauge. My air is running out; soon I won’t have a choice.

The great fish returns, languidly gliding above me. It’s shadow inches along my body, sending a shiver down my spine.

Not yet.

 

S.L. Kretschmer

S.L. Kretschmer is a born and bred South Australian, recently embracing both a tree change and becoming an empty-nester in the beautiful wine region of the Barossa Valley. She finds the local product helps. She has a BA in Creative Writing and a spoilt border terrier named Bee.

Twitter: @SLKay4

Catch and Release

by Robyn Fraser

 

Sunrise, and a misty river. Three trout, hooked and thrown back. He preferred to fish humanely.
Something glittered in the reeds. He reached for it, and metal teeth clamped over his fingers. A line tautened and pulled him into the water, screaming and thrashing.
It felt like an eternity under there. His lungs were bursting, eyes bulging from his head. It seemed—but impossible!—something huge was holding him, measuring him, ripping the trap off his hand, and two fingers along with it.
He was flung up onto the rocks, vomiting water and fighting for air.
Caught.
And released.
Humanely.

 

Robyn Fraser

Robyn Fraser is: a South African living in Switzerland; a writer of horror fiction; a reviewer of dark books and films; a folklore enthusiast; the guardian of guinea pigs and feeder of rats; the cat’s mother.

Instagram @robynfraser66.

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