Tag Archive for: dark moments

Grandma’s Gift

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by J.D. Bell

 

Weathered hands work the long braid of the witch’s ladder with deft skill.

“My dear grandmother taught me how to use this ladder.” Gnarled fingers tied the first of several knots.

“And her grandmother taught her of its magical powers.”  The woman’s granddaughter studied the pattern.

“Now, I’m teaching you, Lucy.” The woman gave the ladder to Lucy.

“You must concentrate on your intention, wish very hard, and tie the final knot.”

Lucy focused her energy on the ladder, then tied the last knot. Moments later, the man who kicked Lucy’s dog tumbled down his cellar stairs, breaking both legs.

 

JD Bell

JD Bell is an award-winning, internationally published, author of flash fiction and short stories. He recently retired from the world of writing advertising copy and is now enjoying the universe of creative fiction.

What Squirms Beneath

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by Paul Alex Gray

 

Chunks of muck splattered Ernie as he blasted the fatberg with his hose.

“Bloody idiots,” he grumbled. “Flushing leftovers and nappies and God knows what down the drain. Here I am, swimming in it!”

He aimed the spray at a stubborn glob that hung from the sewer walls, smiling with a grim satisfaction as it peeled away. Unravelling, it drew itself up, a squirming snake of glistening fat.

“What the-?” said Ernie incredulously, dropping the hose.

The putrid fatberg lashed out, a revolting maw of muck wrapping around Ernie’s face, suffocating him as it forced its way down his throat.

 

Paul Alex Gray

Paul Alex Gray writes linear and interactive fiction starring sentient black holes, wayward sea monsters, curious AIs and more. His work has been published in Nature Futures, Andromeda Spaceways, PodCastle and others. Chat with him on Twitter @paulalexgray or visit www.paulalexgray.com

 

They Hang

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by John Saxton

 

They hang; some in bunches, others alone. Umbilical cords connect to maternal branches. The progeny sway in the breeze. Sun bakes the forest floor.

Footsteps! In soft grass. The man salivates, eyes glazed. Pauses; inhales; snarls through discoloured teeth. Bloodshot eyes swivel toward a succulent hatchling. Unsheathes his knife.

The scions sense danger. Scream. Agonisingly.

He falls to his knees, knife dropped. Ears covered, bleeding through fingers.

Foetal leeches jump, cords elastic. Countless needled jaws affix. His death is slow torture. They drain him. Withdraw. Bloated. His alabaster corpse stinks in the calescent sun.

They hang.

Until the next feed.

 

John Saxton

John Saxton hails from Yorkshire, UK, where he is happily married, with two sons.  He has had over 50 short horror stories published in the independent press, including his own collection: ‘Bloodshot’.  He writes mainly after dark…

Find him on Twitter @jsaxtonwriter.

 

 

Soul Food

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by Mike Murphy

 

The eternal soul fluttered about the bedroom, waiting for instructions either to return to Heaven or the dying man. Joel’s family clustered around his bed, the lights from the blinking monitors casting off-and-on red shadows on their faces.

Finally, the soul got its orders and began the careful descent to its host. Seconds later, Gravy, with her incredible feline sight, pounced on it – snatching it from the air and pinning it down.

Joel’s blue-haired mother cried out as the heart monitor went flat. In a dark corner, the orange tabby ate happily, knowing she would soon have nine lives again.

 

Mike Murphy

Mike has had over 150 audio plays produced in the U.S. and overseas. He’s won nine Moondance International Film Festival awards in their TV pilot, audio play, short screenplay, and short story categories.

His prose work has appeared in several magazines and anthologies. In 2015, his script “The Candy Man” was produced as a short film under the title DARK CHOCOLATE. In 2013, he won the inaugural Marion Thauer Brown Audio Drama Scriptwriting Competition.

Mike keeps a blog at audioauthor.blogspot.com.

 

Ghulskelche

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by Russell Hemmell

 

“Welcome to The Morgue. At 5 pm, we serve tea. In the evening, different drinks.”

Kelly glanced at the barmaid. The nightclub, hosted in a deconsecrated church, was freezing cold, but the girl, ghastly pale with naked shoulders, seemed unaffected.

“It’s midnight now.”

“And that’s champagne o’clock, sweety.”

The girl poured and Kelly took a sip. It tasted like champagne, bubbles and everything. Only the colour wasn’t right. Carmine red.

“Where?”

“In Hell.”

The barmaid’s face became opalescent, her eyes glaring white. The flute morphed into a snarling serpent, fangs plunging into Kelly’s wrist, blood-like tears on its snout.

 

Russell Hemmell

Russell Hemmell is a French-Italian transplant in Scotland, passionate about astrophysics, history, and speculative fiction. Recent work in Aurelis, The Grievous Angel, Third Flatiron, and others. HWA Active Member & Codexian. Find them online at their blog earthianhivemind.net and on Twitter @SPBianchini.

You can read the DARK MOMENTS archives here

Learn

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by Belinda Brady

 

“Shapeshifters? Why are you reading about them? They’re not real,” my childhood friend, Joshua, scoffs.

 “You know me. I’m always learning something new,” I reply, glancing at the book on my table.

Like how I had learned Joshua was sleeping with my wife. That was new.

“You learn about dumb stuff, man,” Joshua laughs, getting a beer from the fridge.

The bottle shatters to the floor when he turns around and faces himself.

“You could learn a thing or two, man. Like how to stay away from a friend’s wife,” I seethe, lunging forward.

I never did get a reply.

 

Belinda Brady

Belinda is passionate about stories and after years of procrastinating, has finally turned her hand to writing them, with a preference for supernatural and thriller themes; her love of both often competing for her attention. She has had several stories published in a variety of publications, both online and in anthologies. Belinda lives in Australia with her family and has been known to enjoy the company of cats over people. 

It’s So Dark

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by Stephen Herczeg

 

I wake. It’s dark. So dark.

My bed is tight. Snug on both sides. I reach up. There’s something a few inches above me. It’s hard, but covered in soft fabric. It’s like I’m in a box, with soft silk sheets all around. I’m wearing a suit, not pyjamas. Where are my shoes?

I’m falling. Slowly. Very slowly. I land with a thump. My bed is jostled, but I can’t fall out.

Something lands on top of the box, thud. Then even more thuds. I scream but I have no voice.

Then there’s only silence. I’m alone.

It’s so dark.

 

Stephen Herczeg

Stephen is an IT Geek based in Canberra Australia. He has been writing for over twenty years and has completed a couple of dodgy novels, sixteen feature length screenplays and numerous short stories and scripts.

His horror work has featured in Sproutlings; Hells Bells; Below the Stairs; Trickster’s Treats #1 and #2; Shades of Santa; Behind the Mask; Beyond the Infinite; The Body Horror Book; Anemone Enemy; Petrified Punks; Beginnings and Beside the Seaside.
Find him on Amazon

The Rich, The Poor And When Earth’s Time Is Up

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by Aditya Deshmukh

 

An ashamed sun drags itself up the smoky horizon.

Humongous spaceships, built only for the rich, are leaving. The rich ones, the bright ones, the so-called pillars of the society, are leaving.

Their companies, their negligence, their money is what turned Earth into this foul breath, this disease, this nauseating smell of my father’s diarrhoeic stools. The air is black, the rain is acid, my neighbourhood is a graveyard because of them.

And yet they get to leave!

No, I cannot let this happen. I’ll unite my people. I’ll burn their spaceships. They’ll know the power of the working class!

 

Aditya Deshmukh

Aditya Deshmukh is a mechanical engineering student who likes exploring the mechanics of writing as much as he likes tinkering with machines. He writes dark fiction and poetry. He is published in over three dozen anthologies, and has a poetry book “Opium Hearts” coming out soon. He likes chatting with others who share similar interests, so feel free to check him out here:
Facebook : AdityaDeshmukhWrites
Instagram : DeepCrazyShit

 

The Hot Bunk

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by Shawn M. Klimek

 

Lieutenant Kent ached. His leaden eyelids fluttered as he struggled to focus on the faces above him.

“How are you feeling, Lieutenant?” asked Doctor Horn.

“Dying,” Kent croaked.

“The symbiote is weakening, too,” said Horn. “Both of you are dangerously sleep deprived.”

“The symbiote has been communicating with us every night!” enthused Major Owens. “It has finally agreed to share Vancian technology!”

“They can’t both continue sharing the same body,” the doctor clarified.

“But this is a great opportunity for mankind!” pleaded Owens.

“Please,” said Kent, fading. “End this!”

“You heard him, Doctor,” said the major. “We have his consent.”

 

Shawn M. Klimek

Shawn M. Klimek’s stories and poems have been published in scores of e-zines and anthologies, including “Grumpy Old Gods, Volume 1”, Zombie Pirate Publishing’s “World War Four”, and “Gold: The Best of Clarendon House Anthologies, Volume One, 2017/2018. Find more, including links to all his published works at A Jot In The Dark

 

Quick Salvage

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by Eddie D. Moore

 

I found the derelict in a degrading orbit around the fourth planet. With more time, I might’ve salvaged the experimental craft, but the computer gave me a forty-five minute window before it plunged into the atmosphere.

Smears of blood decorated the walls, and I tried not to look directly at the disfigured piles of flesh I stepped over to reach the bridge. I uploaded the memory core and grabbed what tech I could on the way out, while mentally tallying up the payout.

Safely aboard my own ship, I was watching the security video when something moved under my skin.

 

Eddie D. Moore

Eddie D. Moore travels extensively for work, and he spends much of that time listening to audio books. His stories have been published by Jouth Webzine, Kzine, Alien Dimensions, Theme of Absence, Devolution Z, and Fantasia Divinity Magazine. eddiedmoore.wordpress.com