by Evan Baughfman


They returned with a vengeance, with a hive mind sharing a singular goal:  the eradication of the human race.

They came back bigger than before. Meaner. Angrier.

They had every right to be furious with us, of course.

We’d let them all die. Ignored scientists’ warnings for decades. Caused the creatures’ untimely demise with habitat loss and pesticides.

Now, their swarms were massive and many. They attacked with two-inch-long, mutant stingers. Their venom rotted our brains. Turned us into bloodthirsty, mindless cannibals.

They’d found a way to exterminate us.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t figure out how to exterminate them.

The zombees.

Evan Baughfman

Evan Baughfman is a middle school teacher and author. Much of his writing success has been as a playwright. A number of his scripts can be found at online resources, Drama Notebook and New Play Exchange. Evan also writes horror fiction and screenplays. More information is available at his website

An Honest Review

by Galina Trefil


Centuries ago, he’d killed her.

She hadn’t let it go.  Skulking in the back during her book signing, he flipped through the hard copy whose glossy cover was a sensationalized rendition of his medieval portrait. 

Many smear campaigns had been launched against him over time, but he wouldn’t abide one from her, regardless of whether she knew why she was so drawn to hate him.

In the parking lot afterwards, he malingered near her car.  “What do you want?”  She demanded.

“An honest review,” he replied, exposing her throat for the upcoming feast.

Centuries from now, would she write again?

Galina Trefil

Galina Trefil’s work appears in the anthologies “Flock: The Journey,” “First Love,” “Sea of Secrets,” “Coffins and Dragons,” “Organic Ink volume One,” “Curses & Cauldrons,” “Unravel,” “Hate,” “Love,” “Oceans,” “Twenty Twenty,” “Forgotten Ones,” “Suspense Unimagined,” “Mythica,” “Faeries,” “Dark Valentine Holiday Horror Collection,” and “Scary Snippets Valentine Edition.”

Facebook: Rabbi-Galina-Trefil-535886443115467


by Andreas Hort


“Mm, Liam,” purred the raspy voice. “You look so delicious…”


Thunderous footsteps. Dad barged into the room.

“What’s going on? Liam?”


“Again?” Sighing, Dad switched on the light. “Where do you want me to look first?”

Liam wanted him to look in the closet. Empty. Under the bed? Also empty. Outside the window? Nothing.

Liam felt safer; maybe it had only been a dream after all. Dad killed the light, wished Liam goodnight, and left. Liam slid his feet under the covers and closed his eyes.

“So delicious…” Muffled. Under the covers.

Sharp teeth sank into his belly.

Andreas Hort

Andreas Hort resides in the Czech Republic. In his free time, he writes and takes steps toward his goal to move to an English-speaking country. His works have been published in several anthologies. He likes chatting with people with similar interests, so feel free to get in touch:

Family Reunion

by Joel R. Hunt


The months after she died felt like a thousand lifetimes, and each one was unbearable without her. When she appeared at the foot of my bed, I knew she had returned to release me from my torment. Her eyes glowed. Her face shone. Her finger beckoned.

God, how I missed her.

“Join me,” she sang.

“Yes, my love,” I answered. I rose, grabbed the nearby razor and snapped it in two. She smiled as my trembling fingers took the blade.

“We’ll be a family again,” I whispered.

I pushed open the door. Walked over to the nightlight.

“All of us.”

Joel R. Hunt

Joel R. Hunt is a writer from the UK who dabbles in the darker aspects of life, particularly through horror, science fiction and the supernatural.

He has been published in a number of short story anthologies (including the Black Hare Press ‘Dark Drabbles’ series), and hopes to have released his own anthology of short stories later this year.

You can find his daily ‘very short stories’ on

You Came To Me

by Paula R. C. Readman


In the depth of a cloudless night, you came to me. Your cheeks all aglow and lips slightly parted.

“A Whiter Shade of Pale” tunelessly ran through my head. I reached for your hands. Cold to the touch, I cared not.

“Come. Lay beside me, my darling, for I shall warm you up.”

Wordlessly, you climbed in. I ignored the odour of decay that perfumed your skin and the worms and dirt that fell from your hair.

As the moonlight shone off my gravestone, I wrapped the shroud around us; glad to have you finally back in my arms again.

Paula R C Readman

Paula R. C. Readman lives in the UK. Her fiction has mainly been published in anthologies in Britain, Australia and America. Overall winner in two writing competitions and soon to have her first crime novella ‘The Funeral Birds’ published by Demain Publishing in February 2020.    


The Shape of Darkness

by K.B. Elijah


At first, I thought it was the real estate agent. Who else bothered to come onto the property but Sandy White, her box of cheap biscuits in one hand and annual lease documents in the other?

But Sandy was pink cardigans and curls, not this hunched figure that loomed in the shadows of the moonlit driveway. Why did the shape of its head angle so? Was it just a trick of the darkness that lent it a gaping hole instead of a mouth?

I switched on the headlights, preparing to laugh at myself.

But the thing was wearing my face.

K.B. Elijah

K.B. Elijah writes for various international anthologies, and her work features in dozens of collections about the mysterious, the magical and the macabre. Her own book of short fantasy novellas with twists, The Empty Sky, is available on paperback and Kindle now: see her website at


by Raven Corinn Carluk


Maggie stirred the stew, staring vacantly at it. Daddy would be home soon, would expect dinner to be hot and beer open and on the table. She didn’t want another spanking; her behind still had welts from the last time.

Daddy stomped in through the back door. “Smells just like your momma’s cooking.”

You look like your momma. You taste like your momma.

Maggie had learned a lot from Momma. Cooking. Cleaning. When enough was enough. Where to forage in the woods. What could be eaten or not.

Momma had always said all mushrooms could be eaten. Some only once.

Raven Corinn Carluk

Raven Corinn Carluk writes dark fantasy, paranormal romance, and anything else that catches her interest. She’s authored five novels, and has appeared in various short story and microfiction anthologies. Keep up-to-date with her and enjoy many free reads on RavenCorinnCarluk.Blogspot.Com


Lady in White

by Harry J. Canis


“Headless horse-riding monk! Really?”

Harry gazed into the flames “It’s true! And then there’s the Lady in White story.”

The group of teenagers looked uneasily at each other. The Abbey ruins were spooky enough at night, without ghost stories.

“She promised her only love that she’d walk this trail every day until he returned from a voyage. He never did. Legend says she still walks here, waiting. Anyone who blocks her path dies.”

“The path we are sitting on?”

Harry grinned “Yep!”

Police found all but one of the missing group, dead beside a burnt-out fire, seawater in their lungs.

Harry J. Canis

Harry J. Canis is a writer based in the beautiful English Lake District. You can often find him running or hiking within the area and being immersed in nature. His genre is Fantasy/Sci-Fi/Horror, with strong environmental and natural survival themes. Within his writing, he tries to bring an understanding that our planet is precious and needs our care and respect.

I Can’t Stand the Rain

by Frances Tate


“And the dreams?” the psychiatrist asks.

“Stopped,” I lie, won’t admit the rain still brings them on. Worse than ever.

I drive home, wipers dancing.

Cooking makes me feel better; a romantic meal for one. Italian. Plenty of wine. I go to bed feeling relaxed.


I wake, soaked and shivering.

In my dream, a monster entered a random family’s home. Tore the children apart first.

Shredded Mum as she tried to reach them. Took a bullet, didn’t stop. Ripped Daddy asunder.

Rising, whimpering and sore, I see the blood-streaked monster at the bare first-floor window: Scream.

At my reflection.

Frances Tate
Frances Tate is a British self-published writer of vampires and drabbles who has recently rediscovered short stories. She has been published in The Dark Sire, CommuterLit and The Drabble. She’s had drabbles accepted for a number of Black Hare Press Anthologies.  

She enjoys gardening, historical sites, cinema, reading and travelling.


Night Drive

by R.J. Meldrum


He woke, disturbed.  The dream had been vivid, violent. Their car had crashed; metal, glass and flesh, all ripped apart.  His mood changed when he saw everything was the same.  The same road, the same darkness.  His wife was still driving, staring out the windshield into the night.

“I just had the strangest dream.”

She didn’t answer.

“I dreamt we crashed.  That we died.”

She turned to look at him.  The front of her face was a bloodied mess, her eyes missing.  Blood oozed out of her wounds.  She grinned with a toothless mouth.

“That was no dream, my love.”

R.J. Meldrum

R.J. Meldrum has been published by Culture Cult Press, Trembling with Fear, Black Hare Press, Smoking Pen Press, Tell Tale Press, and James Ward Kirk. He’s had stories in The Sirens Call eZine, the Horror Zine and Drabblez Magazine.  His novella “The Plague” was published by Demain Press.

Facebook: richard.meldrum.79