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Last Call

by Stephanie Scissom

 

Jackson called at 9:57 a.m. Still sulking from last night’s argument, Freya almost didn’t answer.

“Babe!” he gasped. “Something bad’s happened. A plane hit my building. There’s a fire and I might not—I love you, Freya.”

The line went dead. She ran to the television and screamed as she watched the south tower fall.

Why hadn’t she turned him? He’d begged her. Now he was gone.

Her centuries weighed upon her. Devastation. Grief. She was done with this evil world.

If Jackson was burning, she’d burn, too.

Freya stepped into the September sun. Her skin began to smoke.

 

Stephanie Scissom

Stephanie hails from Tennessee, where she works nights in a tire factory and plots murder by day. She’s currently working on an apocalyptic trilogy. You can stalk her at 
https://www.facebook.com/stephaniescissom2019/

 

The Hunger

by Stephanie Scissom

 

Elspbeth peered through her keyhole. Four masked faces peered back.

Teenagers.

“C’mon, old lady,” one said. “Give us some apples.”

Elspbeth loved Halloween, had gifted her candy apples to the neighborhood for fifty years now. She unlocked the door.

They pushed past her, entering her home.

“Check this out!” one of them said, grabbing an expensive figurine from its display.

Elspbeth merely smiled. Times and technology changed, but kids didn’t. These were much like Hansel and Gretel. Once you figured out what they were hungry for, it was easy.

Elspbeth was hungry, too. She’d waited on this night all year.

 

Stephanie Scissom

Stephanie Scissom hails from Tennessee, where she works nights in a tire factory and plots murder by day.  She’s published in romantic suspense and horror, loves Halloween, and attends a ridiculous number of concerts. She’s currently working on an apocalyptic trilogy, when she’s not cheating on it with flash fiction. 

www.facebook.com/stephaniescissom2019/