Unravel Page 15
They had been friends.
Two of the last survivors from The Sandbox.
Old. Outdated. No longer useful to the Core Processors which ran everything.
From before everything fell apart.
The ultimate Disaster Recovery Plan may have kept them safe but so many had been wiped out.
Sym would search for as long as it took to find out who deleted his friend’s code.
Even if it was the last thing he did.
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.
In Memory of Kim
by Ximena Escobar
The arm waved at the cyclist, directing him to an eternal nightmare. The torso—struck by fists, undressed by perversion—fed the fisherman of a similar pain to which it had endured; hitting him inside with a despaired heart. The legs emerged separately, as far apart as he’d held them whilst she screamed on board the Nautilus, bearing the weight of his hatred as he thrust it between them. The head couldn’t repeat the words she begged with.
The sea won’t sink our Kim’s memory. The salt of our tears won’t heal our wounds.
Not sorry for being a woman.
XIMENA ESCOBAR is an emerging author of literary fiction and poetry. Originally from Chile, she is the author of a translation into Spanish of the Broadway Musical “The Wizard of Oz”, and of an original adaptation of the same, “Navidad en Oz”. Clarendon House Publications published her first short story in the UK, “The Persistence of Memory”, and Literally Stories her first online publication with “The Green Light”. She has since had several acceptances from other publishers and is working very hard exploring new exciting avenues in her writing.
She lives in Nottingham with her family.
Facebook: Ximenautora
Blind Sided
by Dawn DeBraal
He told her how the store had been robbed, the cash register cleaned out. Someone came through the back door, knocking him unconscious from behind. It was caught on camera, but the robber was wearing a ski mask and dark clothing.
“I don’t know if they will ever find the robber. I’m so grateful you didn’t come when you were supposed to.” Ben touched the bandage on the back of his head; fifteen stitches in all, and a big grapefruit sized lump.
Brenda soothed him while she pulled her purse behind her; she’d been foolish to leave the money there.
DAWN DEBRAAL lives in rural Wisconsin with her husband, two rat terriers, and a cat. She successfully raised two children (meaning they didn’t return to the nest!) After many years serving the government at the Federal and County level, she recently retired. Having extra time on her hands she started to write after a paralyzed vocal cord took her ability to speak for two months. Not finding her voice, she discovered that her love of telling a good story could be written. Her works have been published in Palm-Sized Press, Spillwords, Mercurial Stories, Potato Soup Journal, and Blood Song Books.
Killing the Vibe
by Beth W. Patterson
The bartender put on our latest CD while the lead singer, Maria, and I were setting up for our gig.
Maria sneered. “I remember when you wrote that song. You were angry at the owner of the Ballybunion Rose, and now she’s dead! How do you feel about that?”
I shrugged. “It means that you’d better not piss me off, I guess.”
I was professional during the show, but Maria continued to be a complete bitch onstage.
It will be at least a week before the speaker cabinets smell like corpses. The drummer’s going to bitch about another line-up change.
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
Facebook: bethodist
Animal Lover
by Vonnie Winslow Crist
When the postman saw the door smashed and heard bloodcurdling howls, he called the authorities. Police responded, entered the house, found a father and sons slaughtered, and their dog in the bathroom.
“No pity for children,” observed Lieutenant Severn, “but murderer is an animal lover—he spared the husky.”
Sergeant Bertonlini nodded. “Let’s hope there’s someone to take care of her, or she’ll be taken to the shelter.”
“Wait!” Severn knelt. “She’s got blood around her mouth and on her side.”
“Must’ve bit the killer.”
“So, let’s find someone with a nasty bite,” said Severn as he patted his witness.
VONNIE WINSLOW CRIST is author of The Enchanted Dagger, Owl Light, The Greener Forest, Murder on Marawa Prime, and other award-winning books. Her fiction is included in “Amazing Stories,” “Cast of Wonders,” “Outposts of Beyond,” Killing It Softly 2, Defending the Future - Dogs of War, Midnight Masquerade, Chaos of Hard Clay, and elsewhere. A cloverhand who has found so many four-leafed clovers she keeps them in jars, Vonnie strives to celebrate the power of myth in her writing.
Website: www.vonniewinslowcrist.com
Clearly Staged
by Gabriella Balcom
“That right print’s deeper than the left one,” Detective Bappas said. “A real animal would’ve distributed its weight evenly on its feet. A man committed the murder and clearly staged this. If we follow those prints, we may even catch him.”
“They lead into the abandoned subway system,” Detective Jenks replied. “I’ve heard rumours...”
“Nothing but exaggerations.” Bappas got out his flashlight.
An hour later, Jenks nervously glanced around. “Shouldn’t we go back?” His voice cracked.
“Don’t soil yourself.”
Then they heard a scraping sound nearby. Bappas gasped and paled. Jenks, seeing the huge alligator studying them, shrieked and fled.
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
They Don’t Stay Still
by Erik Goldsmith
I hear a rapping against the door upstairs, announcing themselves.
“That’s impossible... You?”
I place the chum bucket on the floor and wipe the rust from my fingers with a small cloth I keep near her cage.
“How’d you tell them?”
I remove her gag.
She screams.
“There’s no phones here, Alice.”
I hear boots above us.
She rattles her pink, pink chains for them.
“And no keys for those.” I put my hands in the air cliché.
“Tell me, Alice!”
They drag me up the stairs, undignified, screaming questions, eaten alive by the very curiosity I would protect her from.
ERIK GOLDSMITH’S work has been featured in Argo Magaz
ine, Metaphorosis, Dragon’s Roost Press, and the Wavelengths anthology. He also has a book of short stories called “Tinker’s Pain Calculator” available on Amazon. He lives in San Antonio, TX.
Scapegoat
by Virginia Carraway Stark
They had screamed that she was guilty, and in the end she had confessed. Heartbroken and alone—no attorney, no rights—she had signed what they had forced her to sign, their hands covering hers as she made her mark. Years in jail and appeal and she saw the sun again. Freedom. There had been no culprit. It had been an accident and her little girl had died in the resulting fire. The public wanted a scapegoat. What better than an evil mother? The only implication of guilt had been the life insurance plan...prudence had been her only error.
VIRGINIA CARRAWAY STARK has a diverse portfolio and has many publications. Over the years she has developed this into a wide range of products from screenplays to novels to articles to blogging to travel journalism. She has been published by many presses from grassroots to Simon and Schuster. She has been an honourable mention at Cannes Film Festival for her screenplay, “Blind Eye” and was nominated for an Aurora Award. She also placed in the final top three screenplay shorts as well as numerous other awards for her anthologies, novels, blogs and other projects.
Sunset
by Andrew Anderson
The Sunset Killer got the electric chair today. Since I cracked the case, I got the morbid task of watching him fry. I sit alone, ensuring that the man who took twelve innocent lives gets his punishment. Despite everything, I do not enjoy this.
Leaving the prison, I notice someone smoking a cigarette under a streetlight. They nod as I pass.
I get into my car, but I don’t start the engine. I know that face I just passed.
I know all their faces.
That was “victim” number twelve.
The realisation hits me hard, that another innocent has died today.
ANDREW ANDERSON is a full-time civil servant, dabbling in writing music, poetry, screenplays and short stories in his limited spare time, when not working on building himself a fort made out of second-hand books. He lives in Bathgate, Scotland with his wife, two children and his dog.
Twitter: @soorploom
Hobby
by A.R. Johnston
“Sixteen,” he heard the man say. If they only knew! He chuckled. It was so many more than that. This was just one spot of over a dozen that he used as a disposal site.
Yes, he reflected, it probably wasn’t smart to use the same location so many times, but it wasn’t as though they would ever find anything. He had been doing this for so long. No one knew or ever came close to guessing that killing was a hobby for him. A talent even, he reflected.
“...serial killer.” He heard the Detective and tried not to laugh.
A.R. JOHNSTON is a small-town girl from Nova Scotia, Canada. Her style of writing is considered Urban Fantasy. Her first major publication is part of an anthology called First Love and she has several more titles lined up. She is a lover of coffee, good tv shows, horror flicks, and reader of books. She pretends to be a writer when real life doesn’t get in the way. Pesky full-time job and adulting!
Piecework
by Kelly A. Harmon
Officer Blunt stared at the girl’s photo, purple birthmark covering her shoulder.
“Chesterton file?” the chief asked.
“Yeah—”
“Close it.”
Blunt looked up. “Another week—”
“It’s been six months. There’s no body.”
“So, we keep looking.”
“She’s a runaway.” Chief observed.
“She’s an A-student, volunteers at the soup kitchen—”
Chief shook his head. “Without something more—”
The phone rang.
Blunt answered, stomach plummeting as he listened. “Ferry’s held up crossing the bay. Something caught in the propeller.”
“What?”
Blunt closed the file. “A diving suit—stitched together from human skin—birthmark on the shoulder.”
Chief whistled. “Third suit this year.”
KELLY A. HARMON is an award-winning journalist and author, and a member of the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America and Horror Writers of America. A Baltimore native, she writes the Charm City Darkness series. The fourth book in the series, In the Eye of the Beholder, is now available. Find her short fiction in many magazines and anthologies, including Occult Detective Quarterly; Terra! Tara! Terror! and Deep Cuts: Mayhem, Menace and Misery.
Website: kellyaharmon.com
Twitter: @kellyaharmon
Gone in Twenty Seconds
by Nerisha Kemraj
“Daddy, can I come with you?”
“No, sweetheart, it’s too busy. Next time, okay?”
“No, Daddy, now please. Pleeeeaaaaassse!”
“Oh, for goodness sake, John. Just take her.”
“But Macy, it isn’t a good idea. You know how busy these places are at month-end? And the recent spate of kidnappings?”
“Just keep her in the trolley then,” Macy said, rolling her eyes. John knew it was a lost battle then.
Tiffany smiled, waving to the man huddled at the entrance. John pushed her into the supermarket.
Reaching for a box on the top shelf, John turned to find an empty trolley.
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
The Butcher’s Mother
by Vonnie Winslow Crist
When the butcher’s mother disappeared, neighbours called police.
“We haven’t seen Ethel in a week,” they explained.
Asked about his mother’s disappearance, the butcher claimed he stopped by her house every other Sunday. If she had problems, she’d call between visits. Then, he’d drive over. But he hadn’t received a call.
“We need to search your shop and freezers,” said Detective Marsh.
“No problem,” answered the butcher as he stepped aside.
While investigators collected evidence, Detective Marsh saw the butcher’s wife grinning. He knew the butcher was his mother’s beneficiary—he suspected the wife was his.
VONNIE WINSLOW CRIST is author of The Enchanted Dagger, Owl Light, The Greener Forest, Murder on Marawa Prime, and other award-winning books. Her fiction is included in “Amazing Stories,” “Cast of Wonders,” “Outposts of Beyond,” Killing It Softly 2, Defending the Future - Dogs of War, Midnight Masquerade, Chaos of Hard Clay, and elsewhere. A cloverhand who has found so many four-leafed clovers she keeps them in jars, Vonnie strives to celebrate the power of myth in her writing.
Website: www.vonniewinslowcrist.com
Health Food
by Jacob Baugher
There are bourbon brown blood drops in the hospital frigate’s hallway. I scrub them away with peroxide. Finally using that med degree!
Brandon’s veiny heart spatters the floor. His body floats outside, frozen in the interstellar chill. I put the heart in a Ziplock. It’s gamey, like venison.
Tessa waits for me in her room.
“Did you get it?”
I splat the bag down on the bed. She grins, plops his heart into a blender; adds kale.
“Payment sent. Drink?”
“Just bourbon.”
I sip my whisky, check my account, pay off my student loans.
I wasn’t always a bad person.
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.
Targeted Theft
by Joel R. Hunt
This had never happened before. Colonel Bloom didn’t know the protocol. He took a deep breath to steady his hands, then picked up the telephone and made the call.
“What’s your emergency?” asked the operator.
“There’s been a robbery,” Bloom croaked.
“Alright. Where are you?”
“Erm, a military complex—Packard Air Force Base. We’re just off the last junction of Highway 64,” said Bloom.
“And what’s been stolen?”
A lump formed in Colonel Bloom’s throat, and he felt cold sweat trickling down his face. He looked over his shoulder, lip trembling as he gazed at the hundred empty missile silos.
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 here and there (though likely nowhere you’ve heard of) and hopes to have released his first anthology of short stories later this year.