Hate Read online

  Website: jmoranmeyer.net

  Amazon: www.amazon.com/author/jacquelinemoranmeyer

  Remember Me

  by Terri A. Arnold

  I’m nobody. I’m tired of not being noticed. I haven’t even been bullied throughout the years; in truth, I’ve simply been completely ignored. You could ask anyone I grew up with, I bet my life they would have no idea who you were talking about. It wouldn’t even make them stop and think ‘hmm, that name is familiar’. But I can promise you this, they’ll know my name now, they’ll never forget the name Dean Atwood. From this day forward I will stop being a nobody, I will be the topic of many discussions to come, everyone will remember me.

  TERRI A. ARNOLD is an avid reader turned writer from a small town in Nova Scotia, who has spent her life reading and wishing she was writing. Although she has written a lot in those years, she has only recently begun to submit pieces for publication. With ongoing encouragement from family and writing challenges with friends, Arnold felt the urge to try her hand at publishing.

  Smiling

  by Owen Morgan

  She told me I needed to make more money. I smiled.

  She insisted on expensive trips and grand expenditures for our anniversary, the best hotels, and food. I smiled.

  Whenever something bad happened to her family, she insisted on dragging me into the conflict. She said you only live once, who needs to save money?

  Now, at the end, I put my affairs in order. I have prepared my spouse for life without me. When I and all my money are gone, I will leave a note with my executor for her, which reads: I am still smiling, are you?

  OWEN MORGAN writes science fiction, fantasy, and alternate history, and lives in the fishing port of Steveston, British Columbia.

  Website: httpwwwkingauthor.wordpress.com

  Twitter: @owen_morgan1066

  Existing

  by Dawn DeBraal

  Herman hated getting up in the morning. He was thinking about quitting his job. If he quit, he would lose his apartment. If he lost the place, he would live out on the street. If he lived out on the street, he would have to eat from garbage cans and sleep under overpass bridges. If he slept outdoors, he’d get fleas, be cold and wet. Herman would still have to get up in the morning. He picked up the pistol, contemplating suicide. The only thing Herman hated worse than getting up in the morning was pain. So, he got up.

  DAWN DEBRAAL lives in rural Wisconsin with her husband Red, two rat terriers, and a cat. She has discovered that her love of telling a good story can be written. Published stories with Palm-sized press, Spillwords, Mercurial Stories, Potato Soup Journal, Edify Fiction, Zimbell House Publishing, Clarendon House Publishing, Blood Song Books, Black Hare Press, Fantasia Divinity, Cafelit, Reanimated Writers, Guilty Pleasures, Unholy Trinity, The World of Myth, Dastaan World, Vamp Cat, Runcible Spoon, Dark Christmas, Siren’s Call, Iron Horse Publishing, Falling Star Magazine 2019 Pushcart Nominee.

  Amazon: amazon.com/Dawn-DeBraal/e/B07STL8DLX

  Sins of the Father

  by Maxine Churchman

  The frail old man with pain wracked features was just moments from death. She used to call him Dad; he’d seemed so big and strong back then. It took months to track him down after her mother died, a small clue in some old documents giving impetus to her search.

  He’d left them when her body matured, no longer to his taste. She’d found him just in time, before cancer took him.

  Old hurts that had festered raised her ire again, and she twisted the knife in his belly once more. His suffering lasted deliciously longer than she’d dared hope.

  MAXINE CHURCHMAN lives in Essex UK and has recently started writing poetry and short stories to share. Her interests include learning to improve her writing, reading, knitting, walking and teaching yoga. She is also planning a novel.

  Modern Hate

  by David Bowmore

  Do you know what I hate?

  No? Then I’ll tell you.

  Modern films with impossibly attractive lead roles with perfect teeth and hair.

  I hate modern cinemas too; buying tickets online and popcorn that rips my gums.

  Footballers, who earn more in a week than I will in a lifetime.

  And animal lovers who care more about cats than their own grandmothers.

  And eco-activists—let’s all go back to living in mud huts then. Wankers!

  Young people, wearing next to nothing, going to festivals or climbing mountains and gurning into cameras. You didn’t invent it, arseholes.

  And I hate ‘drink-a-fucking-ware.’

  DAVID BOWMORE has lived here, there and everywhere, but now lives in Yorkshire with his wonderful wife and a small white poodle. He has worn many hats in his time; head chef, teacher and landscape gardener. His first collection of short stories ‘The Magic of Deben Market’ is available from Clarendon House.

  Website: davidbowmore.co.uk

  Facebook: davidbowmoreauthor

  Noise Nuisance

  by Jacek Wilkos

  Tim listened to the noise that woke him. It was definitely a washing machine.

  It was after midnight. The neighbour above was very problematic when it came to quiet hours.

  I’ll kill her, Tim thought, leaving the apartment.

  He came back bloodstained and smiling. She won’t bother him again. Ever. He left her body in the bathroom – on the floor, in the bathtub, some pieces even on the walls.

  Tim took off his pyjamas, tossed into a laundry basin and soaked in warm water.

  I’ll wash it tomorrow, he thought, I won’t turn on the washing machine at this hour.

  JACEK WILKOS is an engineer from Poland. He lives with his wife and daughter in the beautiful city of Cracow. He is addicted to buying books, he loves coffee, dark ambient music and riding his bike. His work was published in Drablr, Rune Bear, Sirens Call eZine.

  Facebook: Jacek.W.Wilkos

  Nightmares

  by K.T. Tate

  I hate you. They said to let it go, that you were just a feeble old man, but I couldn’t. The nightmare of crocodile smiles, corrupting hands and panting breath ever present. So, I studied. Not law but lore, forbidden and dangerous.

  Now I watch as your face cracks with agony. As your skin blisters in eldritch patterns. It’s simple really, I found your teeth and sold your soul. They’re coming for you. Not demons, worse. Things that have tainted me to call, but nothing compares with the stain you left.

  You took my childhood, now I’ll take your eternity.

  K.T. TATE lives in Cambridgeshire in the UK. She writes mainly weird fiction, cosmic horror and strange monster stories.

  Website: www.eldritch-hollow.com

  Heartbeat

  by David M. Donachie

  A sane world wouldn’t harvest the body of a victim to save the life of the driver, but seriously, I don’t mind. When they put him on the operating table, his heart stopped, but mine was still beating even though I was dead. What were the doctors to do?

  Now my heart beats in his chest. My blood rushes in his veins. Every day, he will hear the life he took thudding in his head. At night, I’ll scream my name in his dreams. What’s he going to do? Die? It’s an excellent sort of revenge, I hope you’ll agree.

  DAVID M. DONACHIE is an artist, author, and games designer. He has written short stories of countless types since he was old enough to hold a pencil — many are very embarrassing, the others appear in his self-published anthology The Night Alphabet, and in numerous anthologies. He lives in a garret (really a top-floor flat, but a garret sounds a lot more romantic) in Edinburgh with his wife Victoria, two cats, more reptiles than mammals, and more invertebrates than either.

  Daydreams

  by G. Allen Wilbanks

  Bart walked slowly, stealthily through the house. The pistol felt cool and solid in his hand. Tiptoeing into the living room, he saw the back of Linda’s head over the couch as she watched her daytime soap operas.

  He raised the gun, levelled the
sights on his wife’s head, and pulled the trigger. The explosion of the weapon was loud and satisfying.

  “Hey, stupid,” shouted Linda, rousing Bart from his pleasant reverie. “What the hell are you smiling about? You imagining your dick is bigger than your thumb?”

  “Was I smiling?” asked Bart, the gunshot still echoing in his mind.

  G. ALLEN WILBANKS is a member of the Horror Writers Association (HWA) and has published over 100 short stories in various magazines and on-line venues. He is the author of two short story collections, and the novel, When Darkness Comes.

  Website: www.gallenwilbanks.com

  Blog: DeepDarkThoughts.com

  Akazawa A’avik’s Revenge

  by Vonnie Winslow Crist

  Haunted by her husband Hanzan’s murder, Akazawa A’avik journeyed across the galaxy in a near light-speed vessel. She’d plotted revenge for years. Now that their younglings were adults, she’d repay the species which had shot down Hanzan’s observation shuttle over the North American desert.

  Hanzan had done no harm. Still, Earthlings had slaughtered her beloved.

  When her ship sliced into Earth’s atmosphere, Akazawa turned on a pre-recorded soundtrack. With crashing cymbals and hymns of jubilation ringing in her auditory receptors, Akazawa delivered cylinders of flesh-eating bacteria to the planet’s seas.

  Humans should be more careful who they offend, she mused.

  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

  Fresh Herbs

  by Eddie D. Moore

  Jason tripped over his muddy boots and nearly dropped the steaks. His ex-wife gasped and then chuckled.

  “You still leave your shoes lying in everyone’s way. I’m glad you didn’t drop the food.”

  “This is my way of saying that we can be friends.”

  “I think so too. I’m sorry our breakup got ugly, but everyone exaggerates to gain the upper-hand.” Jason placed a bottle on the table. “How special, you even remembered my fifty-seven sauce.”

  Jason smiled as his ex covered her food with the sauce and mumbled, “But it’s the herbs I picked that make this meal special.”

  EDDIE D. MOORE travels hundreds of hours a year, and he fills that time by listening to audiobooks. When he isn’t playing with his grandchildren, he writes his own stories. You can find a list of his publications on his blog or by visiting his Amazon Author Page. While you’re there, be sure to pick up a copy of his mini-anthology Misfits & Oddities.

  Website: eddiedmoore.wordpress.com

  Amazon: amazon.com/author/eddiedmoore

  Stayin’ Alive

  by Shelly Jarvis

  My girlfriend went out last night and didn’t tell me. At the bar, shitfaced, sexy as hell. I didn’t know until this morning when she wasn’t home. I keep wondering whose bed she slept in.

  I think about her all day, seething as my mind conjures images to spiral through my head. At home, I’m so worried about my girlfriend, I can barely acknowledge my wife.

  I send Sarah a quick text while I take a bite of burger. Her phone’s ringtone, Stayin’ Alive, plays in my wife’s apron.

  “Oops,” Amy says. “You were supposed to finish eating her first.”

  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

  The Long Con

  by N.M. Brown

  We celebrate our ninth wedding anniversary this week. I’m thankful he married me even though we’ll never have children.

  He doesn’t remember me from before, but I remember. I remember the red glare of his taillights after he realised he’d hit something. I remember screaming into the night air as my sister bled out into the street. And I remember the cigarette butt he tossed out the window as he drove away and left her there. The puddle of mud it landed in ruining all chance of DNA evidence.

  I inject five of his veins with concentrated nicotine. Happy anniversary!

  SINCE N.M. Brown 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. N.M. Brown’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

  Bluebeard’s Bloody Test

  by McKenzie Richardson

  My new husband’s blue-toned beard crinkles in a grin as he entrusts me with the keys and shows me the door that I must never open. There is a malicious gleam in his eye, a playful sort of evil like an unspoken dare, a challenge, an invitation.

  He places a scratchy kiss on my forehead before departing. I recall tales of the string of previous wives, their disappearances, how this castle reeks of blood. He thinks I will fail his test. But it will not be my blood spilt in this castle upon his return. I will avenge my predecessors.

  MCKENZIE RICHARDSON lives in Milwaukee, WI. Her horror stories have been featured in various anthologies including Evil Lurks, Pandemic, and After: Undead Wars. She has also published a variety of poems and flash fiction pieces.

  Facebook: mckenzielrichardson

  Blog: www.craft-cycle.com

  The Hate You Make

  by Liam Hogan

  I find the witch pouring away a cauldron of noxious green slime.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  She pauses. “Hate potion, I guess.”

  “Hate potion?”

  “When I make my love potions, I separate the hate from the love. But no-one wants hate potions, so...”

  I think about my contacts—in America, in Europe, in the Middle East. Politicians, mainly, always on the search for new ways to control the masses.

  I whip out my chequebook. “I’ll take all the hate you make.”

  She looks at me wide-eyed. “What for?”

  “Oh,” I say, casual as I can. “I might have a buyer.”

  LIAM HOGAN is a London based short story writer, the host of Liars’ League, and a Ministry of Stories mentor. His story “Ana”, appears in Best of British Science Fiction 2016 (NewCon Press) and his twisted fantasy collection, “Happy Ending Not Guaranteed”, is published by Arachne Press.

  Website: happyendingnotguaranteed.blogspot.co.uk

  Twitter: @LiamJHogan

  Laughter

  by Rhiannon Bird

  She was laughing at me again; she would look at me then giggle with the other girls. The pencil was already in my hand, the scissors shaving off layers of wood.

  My knuckles whitened around it. I couldn’t hear anyone else, just her laughter echoing in my ears.

  When the bell rang, I was out of my seat and sprinting through the woods behind school. I stopped when I reached the corner of Mason street. There I waited for her, then I could finally stop the laughing. Her voice floated towards me, and my grip on the sharped pencil tightened.

  RHIANNON BIRD is a young aspiring author. She has a passion for words
and storytelling. Rhiannon has her own quotes blog; Thoughts of a Writer. She has had 4 works published. This includes 3 short stories and 2 poems. These are published on Eskimo pie, Literary yard, Down in the Dirt Magazine and Short break fiction. She can be found on Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest.

  Inconvenient

  by Chris Bannor

  They thought they were punishing him, sending him to the mining prison that circled Earth. They called him an eco-terrorist, but he was just a soldier in a war that humanity refused to take notice of. It was too inconvenient for them.

  Too inconvenient to stop filling the oceans with plastic.

  Too inconvenient to stop filling the skies with pollution.

  Too inconvenient to stop filling the land with their population.

  He wasn’t alone though. Soon, they would act and humanity would see. The only humans left would be those off-planet. They would never return to inconvenience their Mother ever again.