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  “How big are you?”

  “7’1”

  The girl undid her top, “$1000 is a lot for just a lap dance. Want anything else?”

  “No. I was taught my manhood is evil. I shall not touch, nor have it touched.”

  The girl unwittingly giggled, causing Wyndryk to reach over and wrap his hand around her throat.

  “Do not laugh at me!” Wndryk felt her neck snap in his hand. He picked up the phone, “Front desk, I will need another girl.”

  MARCUS COOK, lives in Cleveland, Ohio native with his wife and cat. He loves Sci-Fi and thrillers. His short story, Ava Edison and the Burning Man was recently published in Burning: An Anthology of Short Thrillers by Burning Chair Publishing which can be purchased on Amazon.

  Facebook: ReadMarcusCook

  Camping Celebration

  by J.M. Meyer

  David proposed in a tent five years ago. We celebrate the anniversaries of our wedded un-bliss by camping.

  We woke at dawn to hike.

  At the peak, David knelt presenting a velvet box, revealing an emerald ring.

  “Sue, I will spend the of my life being a better husband.”

  David stood by the edge and snapped pictures of me with his phone.

  “What’s that?” I gasped, pointing at the sky behind him.

  As David turned, I pushed him with all my strength.

  He hadn’t lied, for once. Hearing him scream to his death were the happiest moments of our marriage.

  J.M. MEYER is writer, artist and small business owner living in New York., where she received her master’s degree from Teacher’s College, Columbia University. Jacqueline loves the science fiction and horror genres. Reading Ray Bradbury was a mind-blowing experience for her in 8th grade. Alfred Hitchcock and Rod Serling were the horror heroes of her youth. Mercedes M. Yardley is her current horror writing hero. Jacqueline also enjoys the company of her husband Bruce and their three children, Julia, Emma and Lauren. Jacqueline’s mantra: The only time it’s too late to try something new is when you are dead.

  Website: jmoranmeyer.net

  Twitter: @moran_meyer

  Chompers

  by Shelly Jarvis

  The sight before me sets my teeth on edge. Gore spreads throughout the room: a pulpy heart in the centre of the bed, a head near the window, intestines pulled long and looped around the neck of the other victim. Spatters of blood line the walls like a Rorschach test.

  Those things don’t bother me. It’s the teeth I can’t stand.

  Lined along the windowsill are sixty-three teeth. They’re cleaned and polished, pristine. They taunt me. Just like last night, when I placed them.

  “Third one this month,” my partner says. “Looks like a real psychopath.”

  I nod. “Looks like.”

  SHELLY JARVIS is a speculative fiction author from West Virginia, US. She found a life-long love of sci-fi and fantasy in the 3rd grade when she found Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time.” Shelly is an avid reader, a Whovian, the ideal viewer of dog rescue videos, and undoubtedly Ravenclaw. She currently has three YA sci-fi books available for purchase on Amazon.

  Website: www.ShellyJarvis.com

  Not How it Seems

  by Gabriella Balcom

  “About fifty painkillers were in Jeffries’ stomach,” Doctor Harris said.

  “Twenty were prescribed,” Investigator Cruz replied. “Maybe he was given leftovers, too.”

  “That was his first prescription ever.”

  Cruz frowned. Jeffries had died of an overdose. But he’d journaled about his wife’s affair and seeing her messing with his food. She’d had access to his medicine, a motive, and no alibi. However, her denials had seemed genuine.

  Getting an idea, he grabbed his phone.

  Later, Cruz told Harris, “Jeffries got more painkillers from a distant pharmacy.”

  “So, she’s innocent?”

  “He wanted her to look guilty. Revenge for cheating, I believe.”

  GABRIELLA BALCOM lives in Texas with her family, loves reading and writing, and thinks she was born with a book in her hands. She works in a mental health field, and writes fantasy, horror/thriller, romance, children’s stories, and sci-fi. She likes travelling, music, good shows, photography, history, interesting tales, and animals. Gabriella says she’s a sucker for a great story and loves forests, mountains, and back roads which might lead who knows where. She has a weakness for lasagne, garlic bread, tacos, cheese, and chocolate, but not necessarily in that order.

  Facebook: GabriellaBalcom.lonestarauthor

  Revolver

  by Sam M. Phillips

  The door to the restaurant doesn’t have a bell like it used to; I come in unnoticed. The place is open, but it’s the quiet lull between lunch and dinner. Up the back, the boss sits at a table, sucking spaghetti. The man opposite him sees me coming but I pull the revolver from my coat, put two in his chest.

  I pistol whip the boss around the head as he turns. The snub nose goes into his mouth as he tries to rise.

  “You messed with the wrong family.”

  Loud bang. Snaking tendrils of smoke swirl as blood pools.

  SAM M. PHILLIPS is the co-founder of Zombie Pirate Publishing, producing short story anthologies and helping emerging writers. His own work has appeared in dozens of anthologies and magazines such as Full Moon Slaughter 2, 13 Bites Volumes IV and V, Rejected for Content 6, and Dastaan World Magazine. He lives in the green valleys of northern New South Wales, Australia, and enjoys reading, walking, and playing drums in the death metal band Decryptus.

  Website: zombiepiratepublishing.com

  Blog: bigconfusingwords.wordpress.com

  Too Much

  by Nerisha Kemraj

  She forced the knife into him over and over, twisting with each thrust. Betrayal deserved death.

  Blood spilled from his mouth, choking him. James couldn’t fight back. She watched, bewitched, as the light in his eyes faded away. His body hit the ground with a heavy thud. But she didn’t stop there. Raging, Lucy kicked and hammered his bloody corpse, only stopping when they pulled her off of him. She fought them, her anger uncontrollable. Growling like an animal, she bit at the officers. Breaking free, she ripped off James’ ear, clenching it between her teeth as they restrained her.

  MULTI-GENRE (SHORT-fiction) author, and poet, Nerisha Kemraj, resides in South Africa with her husband and two, mischievous daughters. She has work traditionally published/accepted in 30 publications, thus far, both print and online. She holds a BA in Communication Science from UNISA and is currently busy with a Post-Graduate Certificate in Education.

  Facebook: Nerishakemrajwriter

  Yellow

  by Umair Mirxa

  Yahya stumbled backwards and crashed hard into the bookshelf behind him. He ignored the pain and stepped forwards again.

  “Look, you can take everything you want,” he pleaded. “Just leave the yellow journal, please. It’s of no value to anyone but myself.”

  “Shut up, old man,” said one of the robbers, shoving Yahya aside violently.

  An hour later, Sergeants Carr and Rowe stepped into the house, responding to a 999 call.

  They found two men in masks dead in the study, and Yahya sitting calmly in the armchair, covered in blood and holding a yellow journal close to his chest.

  UMAIR MIRXA lives in Karachi, Pakistan. His first published story, ‘Awareness’, appeared on Spillwords Press. He has also had stories accepted for anthologies from Zombie Pirate Publishing, Blood Song Books, Fantasia Divinity Magazine and Publishing, and Iron Faerie Publishing. He is a massive J.R.R. Tolkien fan, and loves everything to do with fantasy and mythology. He enjoys football, history, music, movies, TV shows, and comic books, and wishes with all his heart that dragons were real.

  Website: www.umairmirxa.com

  Facebook: UMirxa12

  The Donor

  by Jason Holden

  Deborah has an easy manner; it puts the people who come to d
onate blood at ease. The lady with her now was nervous, her first time. Deborah looks over her forms while chatting about whatever comes to mind. “O negative, we’re lucky to have you.” The lady smiles, Deborah asks if she can take her picture for the website. “To help with the drive” she explains.

  Snapping the picture on her phone, she sends it to the men that wait in the van around the corner. A message appears on her phone. One thousand has been credited to her account.

  AFTER GIVING UP A FULL-time job as a quarry operator so that his wife could follow her dream career as an academic in the field of chemistry, Jason Holden and his family left England and temporarily moved to Spain where they currently reside. While there, he took on the role of full-time parent and began to create stories for his daughter. Now that she is in school, he creates stories for himself and hopes to share those stories with others.

  Spiritual Confession

  by Sinister Sweetheart

  Operator: 911; What’s your emergency?

  Caller: *static hissing* Hel... hello?!? Can you hear me?

  Operator: I can hear you ma’am. What’s your emergency?

  Caller: I’ve just buried a body. (Inaudible)

  Operator: What?!? I’m sorry Ma’am; you’re breaking up. I’m tracking your location.

  Caller: Thank you. There’s no hurry; nothing can be done for him now.

  OFFICERS ARRIVED ON scene to find a large, bare patch of dirt. After digging, they unearthed a male body that was well passed the advanced stages of decomposition.

  His dental records matched a Mr. Logan Charles, who’d been presumed dead for the past four decades.

  SINCE Sinister Sweetheart made her first post to a popular Internet forum, she’s taken the horror community by storm. Her ability to create, terrify, and drive home her stories is insurmountable. Sinister Sweetheart’s published works can be found in multiple anthologies for all to read, but be forewarned, if you do... you may want to call your therapist after, her stories are terrifying, disturbing and devilishly unsettling. She is not only a fright visually, but also has a creepy tentacle in horror podcasting as well. Sinister Sweetheart writes, voice acts and is the media director of the Scarecrow Tales podcast.

  Website: Sinistersweetheart.wixsite.com/sinistersweetheart

  Facebook: NMBrownStories

  Nostalgia Burns Bright

  by Stuart Conover

  As a young vampire, Ophelia had used fire to drive humans from their homes.

  Townsfolk had learned not to invite strangers in.

  Not being able to get in, she had to get residents out.

  Driven by flame meant they were but lambs to the slaughter.

  That was all in the past.

  Thanks to technology, it was easy to have a smart home invite you in.

  For someone able to hack at least.

  Still, Ophelia still enjoyed her fires.

  Only these days it was to cover up her crimes and not start them.

  You couldn’t see fang marks on charred corpse.

  STUART CONOVER is a father, husband, rescue dog owner, published author, blogger, journalist, horror enthusiast, comic book geek, science fiction junkie, and IT professional. With all of that to cram in daily, we have no idea if or when he sleeps or how he gets writing done! (We suspect it has to do with having evil clones.) Stuart is a Chicago native and runs the author resource Horror Tree.

  No Leftovers

  by Claire Count

  “Whatcha make of it, Constable?”

  She choked as she struggled not to gag. “Don’t think we will be finding ‘em alive, Sir.”

  “Aye, think you have the truth of it.”

  “Shall I call Child Protection Services?” A dirty child sat back pressed against the wall, protected by her beloved mutt—both too thin and clearly abused. Dog watched them warily.

  “Nyah, not yet. Hey, would you and your dog like to stay with me?”

  Silent nod.

  “Maybe after some food and sleep, she’ll explain this.”

  “He’s not hungry now,” answered a timid voice.

  Sergeant smiled. “Okay, just food for you then.”

  CLAIRE COUNT, acclaimed writer of short stories and sometimes poet, lives in Metro Atlanta, Georgia, USA. She turns her love of puzzles into twisting plots of mystery and suspense. She is a life long role-playing gamer, which shows in her imaginative fantasy works. Her theatre background enriches her characters and creates unusual settings in her multi-genre tales.

  Website: ClaireCount.com

  Twitter: @ClaireCount

  No Rest for the Wicked

  by E.L. Giles

  Eddy Thompson sat on the wooden chair, the electrodes fastened on his head. He glared at the window next to him. The spectators gazed back at him with horror.

  “Eddy Thompson, you have been convicted of the murder of five young women,” said the executioner. “Before we proceed, do you have any regrets?”

  Eddy turned to the executioner and then back to the crowd.

  “I do,” he said.

  “Do you have anything to say to the families gathered here today?”

  “I am sorry”—a malevolent smile appeared on Eddy’s face—“that I didn’t finish off the bitch who escaped me.”

  E.L. GILES is a dreamer, passionate about art, a restless worker and a bit of a weird human. He started his artistic journey as a music composer until the need to put his thoughts and stories down on paper grew too strong for him to resist it any longer. He lives in the French Province of Quebec, Canada, with his girlfriend and two boys.

  Facebook: elgilesauthor

  Website: www.elgilesauthor.com

  Aorta Red

  by Jacob Baugher

  I mix poison with the nail polish. It glitters aorta red. Theodora’s favourite. Revenge is best served bloody.

  The tritone doorbell jingles. She’s blue-eyed, beautiful. Hitler would have loved her. She’ll say hello to him in Hell.

  “Usual, Theodora?”

  She crosses to my station.

  “Usual.”

  I paint, careful not to touch the polish. A drop falls on her skin. I wipe it away. She ignores me; tips on her way out. I should feel bad, but I don’t. She killed Evan.

  I wish I could see the blood leak from her eyes tonight. I content myself with a smoke instead.

  JACOB BAUGHER teaches Creative Writing at Franciscan University of Steubenville. When he’s not teaching or coaching the track team, he can be found in the Cuyahoga Valley hiking with his wife and son or brewing beer on his front porch. He’s received honourable mentions for his work in the Writers of the Future contest and he co-edits a series of Fantasy and Science Fiction anthologies titled Continuum.

  Nightstalker

  by Jacob Baugher

  I peer through your window. You’re with him, smiling. I’d join, but the crucifixes over the doors prevent me. Mother said: never disturb a religious house. She’s rotting in my garden.

  At Mass, I hold your hand during the Our Father. “Thine is the kingdom, the power...”

  Hollow words.

  “They mean nothing,” the voice in my head whispers.

  Later, you’re together again, laughing on the sofa. I’m invisible in the mirror-dark window. Above, the crucifix glows.

  Thursday, I try for redemption. “Bless me, Father, I have sinned.”

  But I’m addicted.

  Back outside, I watch, like Grendel. Shameful in the murk.

  JACOB BAUGHER teaches Creative Writing at Franciscan University of Steubenville. When he’s not teaching or coaching the track team, he can be found in the Cuyahoga Valley hiking with his wife and son or brewing beer on his front porch. He’s received honourable mentions for his work in the Writers of the Future contest and he co-edits a series of Fantasy and Science Fiction anthologies titled Continuum.

  Animated

  by Beth W. Patterson

  I’d told her that if I saw one more dancing teddy bear or wolfhound chasin
g a leprechaun, I’d slit her goddamned throat. That doesn’t mean it was me who did it. But she knew I hated those stupid e-cards, especially ten or more each day.

  It was getting to be too much. I understand that she was lonely, but for fuck’s sake, I had work to do, and if I ignored those flowers swaying to classical music, email reminders would pile up. It was driving me crazy.

  Someone else must have cut her with fragments of her shattered computer screen.

  BETH W. PATTERSON was a full-time musician for over two decades before diving into the world of writing, a process she describes as “fleeing the circus to join the zoo”. She is the author of the books Mongrels and Misfits, and The Wild Harmonic, and a contributing writer to thirty anthologies. Patterson has performed in eighteen countries, expanding her perspective as she goes. Her playing appears on over a hundred and seventy albums, soundtracks, videos, commercials, and voice-overs (including seven solo albums of her own). She lives in New Orleans, Louisiana with her husband Josh Paxton, jazz pianist extraordinaire.

  Website: www.bethpattersonmusic.com