Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kim Richards @Kim_Richards @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


A Look Into the Eyes
by Kim Richards

A second after the severed head hit the bottom of the basket beneath the guillotine with a thud, shouts rang up from the crowd.
“Look into the eyes!”
“Quickly!”
Some of the peasants drew back, hesitant with fear…of knowing. Others drew near, wanting only to watch. An old woman leaned forward and spat on the ground before hobbling away.
Yarich was not afraid or content to simply view the spectacle. He saw enough of them these past few years. He wanted to see; to know. He shouldered his way past two young men daring one another to pick up the head.
“Come on. There is no curse.”
“Then you go first…unless you have pissed yourself already.”
As Yarich stood over the basket, staring at the bloody, grimy thing, the crowd calmed and grew quiet. He knelt, reached down, took it by the ears, and lifted it to his eye level. One of the head’s blue eyes blinked. He decided it was the one to peer into.
     He leaned closer and realized the lips moved, forming soundless words. He didn’t hesitate to figure out what the dead man said because he knew there were only moments before the eyes closed for good. It is the eyes which are the proverbial ‘windows to the soul’. Thus he looked deep into the wide open blue eye, focusing on the iris.
The pupil instantly transformed into a bright light like the morning sun shining through the forest trees. In fact, a forest came into focus on the edges of the periphery. A grass clearing appeared just beneath the light. In the center of the clearing stood an ancient henge of four stone pillars, topped with a long stone bar. Perched atop the henge a white raven kept watch. It’s head moved from the side to side the way birds often do. Two more flew in the sky, tilting left and right as they soared towards the light.
Yarich gasped as a beautiful young woman stepped into view. Her ivory skin was uncovered except for where her long, red tresses curled to cover her shoulders and part of her back. She paused as if realizing he were there and looked back over her shoulder. Her eyes flashed silver and then red for just a second.
Then the head’s eye closed for good.
Stunned, Yurich gently placed the head back inside the basket. He walked away, not hearing the myriad of questions from the people around him. He knew she saw him and now he was cursed.
Fiction © Copyright Kim Richards
Image courtesy of Pixabay.

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author E.A. Black @ElizabethABlack @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Wrath from on High
by E.A. Black

The first time God put his foot down and ravaged Norwich, Massachusetts, the residents had voted against a referendum to allow a marijuana dispensary to open in town. It wasn’t that God was a pothead, but this was the last straw. The town had voted down a liquor store in favor of allowing a bed and breakfast to serve beer and wine. What got God’s teeth on edge was that the owner of the B&B was the mayor’s son. God frowned upon nepotism, especially since he was personally familiar with how horrid it could turn out. He was also in an especially rotten mood that day because his bunions hurt more than usual.
You would think that God would condemn drug use and alcohol consumption but that was not the case. His word had for too long been misconstrued by preachers with ulterior motives of their own as well as their own cache of Girl Scout Cookies marijuana strains and the most expensive single malt. God generally stayed out of mankind’s hypocrisy but Norwich was his special pet project and he was tired of seeing it go downhill.
There was no warning. No death of the first borns, or plagues of locusts, or a flood. No, his foot simply appeared in the midday sunny sky and descended from the heavens to flatten the First Episcopal Church and City Hall. He left the hookers and blow motel and the casino intact. People ran screaming into the streets, falling to their knees to plead for divine mercy. God was having none of it. Instead of listening to the pleas of the downtrodden, he kicked fire hydrants until the water flowed in the streets. Kids emerged from out of nowhere to play in the water since it was a hot summer day.  God smiled down upon them. They deserved a little joy since the mayor had taken kickbacks from water and sewage, and money pouring into the street was one way to rectify that problem. Then, God’s foot descended from on high again to crush the mayor’s new sailboat and the Governor’s Corvette. He didn’t like it that town officials enjoyed the finer things in life while at the same time they reduced funding for the local food pantry and the schools. God was pissed, and he wasn’t having any of it.
Fiction © Copyright E. A. Black
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from E.A. Black:

Zippered Flesh 3

What horror anthology on body enhancements wouldn’t include gross-out fiction? This book has it in spades. But, this collection of stories goes far beyond that. Here you will also find science fiction, surreal fiction, fantasy, and even a full serving of dark humor. Disturbing, perverse, often gut-wrenching (pun intended) stories—all between the covers of this anthology!
Nineteen chilling tales by some of the best horror and suspense writers today. Definitely not for the squeamish!

“Hardcore horror that ranges from the socially relevant to the scatologically repulsive—the shock here is like ‘The Scream’ made flesh.” — Mort Castle, editor of On Writing Horror: A Handbook by the Horror Writers Association

“In Zippered Flesh 3, Editor Weldon Burge has done a masterful job of combining work from well-known masters like Jack Ketchum and Graham Masterton with newer writers. But it is the original work by newcomers like L.L. Soares and Meghan Acuri that stands out for me. … Highly recommended.” — Gene O’Neill, author of The Hitchhiking Effect: A Retrospective Collection

“‘Closer by Charles Colyott is a wonderfully poignant and romantic story. … ‘Going Green’ by Christine Morgan is so original, timely, and well-written it deserves special mention. … Kudos to Burge for putting together another fine anthology of cutting-edge fiction.” — Paul Dale Anderson, author of The Instruments of Death series

Available on Amazon!

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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Naching T. Kassa @NachingKassa @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Practice to Deceive
by Naching T. Kassa

I was never much for reading. I mean, what can you learn from books? Some boring dude put down words a hundred years ago and I’m supposed to care? Everybody knows books don’t make you smart. Doing things other people won’t makes you smart. If it wasn’t for Morgana, I wouldn’t have read them at all.
Morgana went to my school. She was a plain girl (not nearly as pretty as me) and a real ass kisser. She sucked up to the teachers like there was no tomorrow. I mean, how else could she win a full-ride scholarship to Maycom University? I should’ve had that scholarship. Not her. There was only one way to fix the problem.
She had to die.
Killing someone isn’t easy. I didn’t want to get caught. I’d watched enough CSI to know I can’t avoid leaving DNA behind. And, hiring someone was out of the question. They’d rat me out, they always do.
I’d almost given up on killing Morgana. Then, I saw a movie and everything changed.
The movie was about Vikings (or something like that. I only remember Jason Mamoa being in it.) Anyway, there was a cool part with a witch (she was Jason’s mom) and she had an enemy. She killed her enemy by drawing Viking writing in the dirt.
I had found the way to kill Morgana.
After the movie, I searched the internet for information on the writing. I found nothing. So, I did the next best thing. I asked my mom (I didn’t tell her I was going to kill someone. I’m not stupid) and my grandma overheard. She said they were ruins and suggested I go to the library. She said if I couldn’t find it on the net, I should look in a book. Grandma’s always saying sarcastic crap but this time she was right. So, I went.
The librarian was a real bitch. She made me get a card before I could do anything. Then, she made fun of me when I asked for a book on Viking writing and spells. She said they were runes, not ruins. She led me to the back of the building and showed me a few books. Then, she left.
The book was a snore. It was written by some professor and he put a warning on every page. Something about writing—I don’t know what it was. I skipped it.
The only interesting parts in the book were about the spells and I found a bunch. My favorite was the Inferno spell. This one set your enemy on fire. According to the book, I had to write the spell on a piece of paper in the presence of my enemy.
Fantasies filled my head. I saw Morgana in the hallway between classes and I imagined her bursting into flame. I saw her eyebrows singed off, her head become a matchhead, her clothes seared off. I heard her screams as her eyes boiled away. Everyone would stare at her, their mouths open, no one moving. No one would think to grab an extinguisher or push her to the ground. They’d let her burn.
I copied the page from the book and hurried out of the quiet and creepy building. When I got home, I practiced writing the spell. Before I went to bed, I knew it by heart. The morning couldn’t come fast enough.
A full hallway greeted me Thursday morning. Morgana stood by her locker with her lame friends. I watched them. No one watched me. My hand shook as I drew in my notebook.
A scream split the air.
Every student in the hall froze as the flame erupted, their mouths and eyes wide. No one moved a muscle as the shrieks grew louder. The odor of smoke and charred flesh filled the air.
Morgana rushed forward.
She threw her coat over my head and pushed me to the floor.
They told me, much later, she saved my life.
It’s been a year since the “incident.” Morgana went to Maycom and I’m finally home.
It took me a while to figure out what I’d done wrong. And, I’m happy to say, I’ve learned my lesson.
I’ll never pick up a book again.
Fiction © Copyright Naching T. Kassa
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Naching T. Kassa:


Final Masquerade

It’s the Final Masquerade and it’s your turn to dance.

The evening is ending and the guests are ready to leave, but the final event of the evening is just beginning — the unmasking.

Welcome to Final Masquerade where no one is who they seem.

Stories written by Daniel I. Russell * Ken MacGregor * J.C. Delisle * Joshua Chaplinsky * Lori Safranek * D.S. Ullery * Samantha Lienhard * Thomas Kleaton * Josh Strnad * Naching T. Kassa * Roy C. Booth & Axel Kohagen * Sheldon Woodbury * Craig Steven * Gregory L. Norris * Jay Eales * Dale W. Glaser * R.K. Kombrinck * Jonathan Cromack * Brian C. Baer * Adrian Chamberlin

Available on Amazon!

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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author H.R. Boldwood @SuzieNBruce2 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror

Hubris
by H.R. Boldwood

The Ancients returned and sat among the ruins, heads bowed in sorrow.
“Foolish, foolish Man,” they cried. “What have you done?”
A lone tree, gnarled and withered, towered above the concrete carcasses and septic seas; its blighted branches giving witness to Armageddon as it burst across the horizon.
In the blink of an eye, Man, the instrument of his own undoing, had come and gone, leaving a legacy of ash in his wake.
And then the Ancients prayed.
Prayed for new life to spring forth from that ash—a life of hope, enlightenment, and stewardship—a life devoid of arrogance, greed, and hubris.
But most of all, a life devoid of Man.
Fiction © Copyright H.R. Boldwood
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Author H.R. Boldwood:

Hyperion Theia: Saturnalia (Volume 1)
Short Story: In the Shadow of Fire

The inaugural volume of the Hyperion & Theia anthology series features stories, poetry, and art that encapsulate festive revelry and otherworldly reversal: Gods and Goddesses of old prepare for destruction. A demonic circus delivers a haunting finale. The Shebeast lurks in the forest and pulls at heartstrings. Alien diet supplements wreak havoc in near-future San Francisco. Three women conspire to break an oath with a wicked witch. The Herculaneum Scrolls reveal the role of ancient aliens. A Roman warrior and a warrior turned slave venture into the territory of a Queen of ancient Egypt. Two cowboys track dark magic in the Wild Wild West. Ghosts stuck in the mortal realm high off drugs. You are a lone radio jockey after the apocalypse.

Available on Amazon!

 

 

 

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The Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Marge Simon @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


The Girl in the Glade
by Marge Simon

He had come to claim the feral girl. She must be seventeen by now, all ripe for the taking. The brochure proclaimed that many a rich hunter has tried to capture her and failed. He’s paid well for the hunt in this Reserve. It was huge, only parts of it were open for free range hunting. From what the brochure said, it was a hunter’s paradise for a celebrated trophy hunter like himself. There was something in the description of the Reserve about birds of prey to watch out for, but his guide, Dunkan, assured him they were no problem.
His bride, Sheila, had never approved his hobby. She hadn’t realized how serious he was about it when they wed. She’d begged him to remove the trophy heads of moose, elk, zebra, and the tiger skin that adorned the living room. When that didn’t work, she moved her bed into another room, ending all connubial visits. Shortly after that, he heard of the Reserve. The prize would not be another head for his walls. This time, it would be a young native virgin. To be sure, Sheila wasn’t privy to that part. Nor did she dream that he planned to bring his trophy virgin back to serve as his mistress. When Sheila mentioned that the area he would be hunting in was rather weak on details, he’d laughed. “But why are there no reports or mention of this place by any reputable hunters you know?” He’d said she asked too many questions.
As promised, the machan was well stocked with cold ale and sandwiches, essential to insure a pleasurable hunt. He smiled and nodded a thank-you to his guide, making a mental note to give him a generous tip.
The temperature rose by mid-morning. Sub-tropics humidity, but he was used to various climes. DunKan pointed south, where the undergrowth is thickest. Two hours later, he caught a glimpse of pale skin weaving through the leaves. Time for the pursuit.
Down and around she wound, disappearing and reappearing. Suddenly, she was much closer, as if teasing him with a taste of what soon would be in his arms. He licked his lips. The air was very still except for an occasional flapping of wings. He barely noticed the strange vulture-like birds alighting in nearby trees. And then, there she was, just ahead in the glade! Bushes rustled, parted. She crossed before him in bright sunlight, chestnut curls cascading past her shoulders. Insouciant eyes glanced his way – the perfect moment! He fired the stunner and she dropped out of sight.
“Now! The net!” he yelled, but Dunkan wasn’t there. Or rather, he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. The net suddenly fell on him and tightened.
Fiction © Copyright Marge Simon
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Marge Simon:

 

Satan’s Sweethearts
by Marge Simon and‎ Mary Turzillo

Satan’s Sweethearts – a collection of poems by Marge Simon and Mary Turzillo featuring the most monstrous, evil women throughout history!

Available on Amazon!

 

 

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Selah Janel @SelahJanel @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Misstep
by Selah Janel

It came at dawn. It came quite literally across the horizon, the toes, the foot, the giant attached to it. It blocked the sky, snuffed the sun, crushed every living thing to runny pulp that dribbled off corn and bunion. There was word that whole cities had been leveled. It was legend made real: a being so tall and monstrous all anyone saw were its feet, often only one foot because it’s stride was so vast.
And then people didn’t hear from those cities anymore, or those towns, or that relative. A killer giant, death by foot – it was laughable, until it was real.
The small rural town held its breath. It was worried, of course, but it had read the old stories, polled all the ancient, half senile geezers gathered in homes or locked in attics for the most outlandish tales of yore. The course of action was clear, obvious even.
They found the most put upon child, the least likely hope of salvation, the most teased and tormented – a little girl – and put her right in the giant’s path on the outskirt of town, well before the city limits, before even the really good farmland (they could sacrifice the mediocre). They sent the scrawniest, most awkward, most looked down upon child. The one stuck in her head, maybe half in another world, who also happened to have the talent of song.
It wasn’t really them being cruel, they reasoned. She volunteered. It worked out. The underdog always comes out ahead in stories after all, especially the musical ones. And if it didn’t work, well, they’d all die anyway, her included.
The earth trembled so hard the girl nearly bounced off the hill where she’d been left. She looked up at the cruddy, splintered nails, the limp, squished bodies flailing between the toes, the film of building and forest decay on the sole. And she sang.
It was a little off-key and quiet, but amazingly, the beast stopped. Maybe there really was something magical about an underdog’s vocal ability. Maybe they had some secret link. The giant paused long enough for the girl to climb right onto the gnarly hangnail quivering over her head, for her to scamper up, singing all the way.
Sure, she was afraid, but what did she have to lose? It was the only opportunity she’d get, take it or leave it. She held her purpose dear, hung on for dearer life, and kept singing.
The whole county breathed a sigh of relief, for the giant stayed frozen, transfixed at whatever words came out of the mouth of someone no bigger than a tick clawing up its massive ankle.
At some point, it lifted her high above the trees between two monumental fingers – it was wonder she stayed alive.
Magic, the elders assured. The uppity cities would have to believe the country folk now! Magic.
Songs from a downtrodden heart can make the biggest beast listen. This is a fact.
It was also a fact that the first thing the girl said to the giant when he plopped her into his pocket, words that he somehow heard from his massive height, was “Kill them all and make it hurt.”
Her second was “I want to watch.”
The screams didn’t reach her height (or her ears weren’t keen enough to pick them up). The bloodshed wasn’t as spectacular as she’d hoped. She couldn’t actually see familiar faces twisted in agony, but the overall effect was nice enough and she figured she’d get to see more of the same til the giant forgot about her.
It was the highlight of her short life so far. It was also why yes, you can listen to elders, but sometimes they aren’t wise enough to realize the whole town may be the villains to some, and aren’t old old enough to know to be wary of volunteers and even warier of a girl with a bone to pick.
Fiction © Copyright Selah Janel
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Author Selah Janel:

Mooner

Like many young men at the end of the 1800s, Bill signed on to work in a logging camp. The work is brutal, but it promised a fast paycheck with which he can start his life. Unfortunately, his role model is Big John. Not only is he the camp’s hero, but he’s known for spending his pay as fast as he makes it. On a cold Saturday night they enter Red’s Saloon to forget the work that takes the sweat and lives of so many men their age. Red may have plans for their whiskey money, but something else lurks in the shadows. It watches and badly wants a drink that has nothing to do with alcohol. Can Bill make it back out the shabby door, or does someone else have their own plans for his future?

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kathleen McCluskey @KathleenMcClus4 @Sotet_Angyal #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!


Penelope
by Kathleen McCluskey

Penelope lived on the isle of Corfu and loved frolicking in the surf of the Aegean. She was a happy and carefree soul. Frequently removing her tunic so the sun could kiss her skin, she would sleep on the sand and dream of Helios, God of the sun.
On a typical sun worshipping day she once again slumbered on the beach. She dreamt of Helios. She was willingly allowing herself to be seduced by the God. He wrapped his muscular arms around her and lifted her into the clouds. He only released his grip when they arrived on Mt. Olympus. They made love upon the altar of Zeus. The ancient writing on the archaic shrine began to twist in a circular pattern. Penelope was oblivious to anything happening except for the love of Helios.
As Helios and Penelope lay out of breath she realized that this was not a dream. She tried to scream but no sound would come, panicked she looked at her lover longingly for help. Helios placed his finger across her lips and smiled. He stood and waved his hand. As the clouds parted she could see all the gods standing around the altar. Embarrassed by her nudity she tried to cover herself but could not move. She was being restrained by invisible hands.
As the winds began to howl and lightning flashed a loud booming voice spoke, “You have opened yourself up to my son. You dream of him and summoned him. Now my children gather to witness the birth of a new Phoenix. You have been chosen by Helios to enjoy some of his power over the sun and flames.” Zeus commanded the winds to lift Penelope, lightning struck her from opposing directions. Her long, beautiful, black hair began to singe and smolder. Flames erupted from her as she climbed higher and higher into the heavens. Helios smiled as once again the love of the phoenix would be his.
Fiction © Copyright Kathleen McCluskey
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Kathleen McCluskey:

The Long Fall: Book 1: The Inception of Horror

Lucifer always cunning and intelligent challenges father to a battle of wits. Being the angel of light he casts a judgemental eye upon mankind. He begins a war with his fellow archangels and God. Michael, along with his siblings defend their home and mankind from their deranged brother. Broad swords and hand to hand combat drench heaven in blood. The four apocalyptic steeds are released, each having their own destructive power. Betrayal and lust are at biblical levels. Understand the very creation of evil and the consequenses that transpire in the first of THE LONG FALL series.

Available on Amazon!

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