by Ellen Datlow
His eyes opened. They were still the same clear grey eyes of the son she loved. He looked up at her, panting, silent for a moment, then he scrambled to his feet. “When I’m a big boy you won’t be able to keep me locked in this house or tell me what to do,” he said. “I’ll be able to go where I want and do what I want. You won’t be able to stop me from doing anything. And if I want to have sleepovers I can.” He jabbed a finger at her, a bizarrely grown up gesture from so young a child, then turned and ran from the room.
Rosy laughed and poured herself a glass of wine. “You, my darling boy, have just dragged into the room the exact thing I’ve been trying so hard not to think about for the last year.”
She drank the bottle of wine and opened another, swallowing it down like medicine. It fuzzed the edges of her mind, fluffing them up so that there was a constant light buzz across her thoughts, but the core of her was still cold and sharp. The best kind of drunk, the kind that lowered the inhibitions without clouding the thinking. The pain in her ear had dulled to background suffering, less immediate in its clamour.
The television shouted from the living room, the volume turned so high it was close to blowing the speakers. Tom was trying his best to provoke her into going in there but she barely noticed the roar. In front of her on the table was his ruined drawing; beside it the pot of his tablets. She stared at the severed lion while she rolled the stem of her glass between her palms. “It still looks like a dog to me,” she said to herself, and giggled quickly.
There would be something sickeningly appropriate about casting her beautiful, damaged son into a sleep he’d never wake from. For his sake. For her sake. Surely it wouldn’t take more than the amount of pills in this pot?
Standing too quickly, lurching on her feet, she spilled her wine across the picture and watched the liquid run like blood across the white paper. Better slow the drinking down while she was still coherent, save the rest for later. She’d fetch him now and order him to take the tablets. Wrestle him to the floor and force them on him if she had to. She’d do it right now, before she changed her mind.
“Tom, come here,” she called. Her words were squashed beneath the greater noise of the television show. A moment’s hesitation and this day would tip over into evening, tip over into night, become another day. Do it now.
The boy was playing with his action figures on the sofa when she opened the door to the living room but he threw them from him and buried his face in his arms when he saw her. “I won’t talk to you,” he said. “I don’t have to.”
“I popped out and phoned Uncle Ross just now,” Rosy said, walking to the television and switching it off, “and he wants us to go and visit him as soon as we can. Maybe next week.”
Tom raised his head and looked at her suspiciously. “Really?”
“Yes, really. He was very excited at the thought of seeing you, Boo. He said you had to do one thing first though. Come into the kitchen with me.” She held out her hand and smiled at him.
Her son clambered to his feet and went with her back down the hall, his temper forgotten as though it had never been. He was bubbling with pleasure, gabbling questions. He would do anything she asked, right now, to be allowed to go and visit his uncle. Am I really going to do this? she thought. I wonder if I will. When it comes to it surely I’ll turn away just before opening the pot. If I do open it surely I won’t actually shake the pills out onto the table, feed them to him with a glass of milk, watch him swallow them down. This is just a test, I’m testing myself and my limits. I’ll remember this tomorrow and try to be stronger from now on.
She upended the bottle over the table and the tablets skittered around on the shiny surface, bouncing over each other, spinning in every direction before she stilled them with her hand and swept them into a pile. “There’s eleven tablets here, Boo, and Uncle Ross wants you to take them all to show me that you’re being a good boy and he can trust you to visit him. I know you don’t want to have a long sleep, I know darling, but the sooner you take them and wake up the sooner we can go. What things would you like to pack? You can take as many toys as you want, and choose the best of your comic books to show him how much you’ve been enjoying them.”
Tom’s face fell at the sight of the tablets but he was listening to her, she could tell. He was caught between the immediate unpleasantness of now and the lure of the future treat. Rosy filled a tumbler with milk and handed it to him, pushing on his shoulder so that he was seated in his chair. She took one of the pills and gave it to him. “There you go. Chop chop. I’ll have to try and find your little suitcase, won’t I? I bet it’s under your bed. And we’ll go shopping for presents for him. Good boy, there you go. And again. Good boy.”
I could stop now. He’s only had three. He might be sick but he’ll be okay after three, I’m sure. I should put the rest back in the pot right now and take it outside and throw it as far away from us as possible.
“You’re such a good boy, Boo. I love you very much. I didn’t mean to be horrible to you earlier, I was just being cross and silly. Nearly there, darling, just a few more and we’ll be done. Think how wonderful it will be when you wake up and we’re ready to go. Uncle Ross was telling me how proud he is of you and how much he wants to see you.”
I could make him vomit now, before any of them have done any real harm. I could stick my fingers down his throat and turn him upside down. There’s still time to change this.
“Shall we get you upstairs and into your pyjamas now, Boo? Let me carry you.”
His weight in her arms, the smell of his neck, already felt more like a memory than reality. He was somehow lighter than he used to be, a faded version of her son. He burped, a nasty wet sound, and murmured “pardon me,” linking his arms around her. She laid him on his bed and they both went through their routines: curtains closed, pyjamas on, water glass filled. Once he was under the blankets, his face a tiny glow against his pillows, Rosy picked up his old cloth bear and bent over to kiss his forehead.
“Sleep tight, my lovely boy,” she said, tucking the teddy into the space between his arm and ribs. Tom nodded and smiled up at her. “Maybe Uncle Ross will take me to the big park near his house again,” he whispered. He was already starting to slur.
Rosy sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers. “I’m sure he will.”
She waited with him, stroking his hand, until he fell asleep. Then she stood up and walked into her bedroom, leaving the door wide open, lay down on her heap of sleeping bags and closed her eyes.
HONORABLE MENTIONS
Avery, Simon “Why We Don’t Go Back,” Black Static 64, July/August.
Barber, Jenny “Down Along the Backroads,” The Alchemy Press Book of Horrors.
Benedict, R. S. “Morbier,” F&SF July/August.
Bestwick, Simon “Deadwater,” The Devil and the Deep. Bestwick, Simon “The Bells of Rainey,” Great British Horror 3: For Those in Peril.
Braum, Daniel “The Monkey Coat,” Nightscript IV.
Bruce, Georgina “Her Blood the Apples, Her Bones the Tree,” The Silent Garden.
Campbell, Ramsey “The Devil in the Details,” The Dreaming Isle.
Clark, Phenderson Djèlí “The Secret Lives of the Nine Negro Teeth . . .” Fireside Feb.
Cluley, Ray “The Man At Table Nine,” A World of Horror.
Cluley, Ray “Trapper’s Valley,” Crimewave 13: Bad Light.
Evenson, Brian “Leaking Out,” New Fears 2.
Fahey, Tracy “That Thing I Did,” The Black Room Manuscripts Volume IV.
Files, Gemma “The Church in the Mountains,” Lost Films.
Ford, Jeffrey “Thanksgiving,” F&SF November/December.
Grace, Dan “Waves,” Tales from the Shadow Booth vol. 2.
Grant, Helen “Silver,” Supernatural Tales 37.
Grey, Orrin “The Hurrah (aka Corpse Scene),” The Dark 37.
Grudova, Camilla “Hoo Hoo,” Bourbon Penn 16.
Hall, Coy “Sire of the Hatchet,” The Fiend in
the Furrows.
Joiner, Mat “Other Voices,” Night Light.
Kuraria, David “Kõpura Rising,” Cthulhu Land of the Long White Cloud.
MacLeod, Bracken “Pigs Don’t Squeal in Tigertown,” New Fears 2.
Mains, Johnny “The Joanne,” Tales from the Shadow Booth vol. 2.
Malerman, Josh “Tenets,” Hark! The Herald Angels Scream.
Malik, Usman T. “Dear Lovers on Each Blade, Hung,” Nightmare 74 November.
McDermott, Kirstyn “Triquetra,” Tor.com September 5.
McHugh, Jessica “Things She Left in the Woods,” Lost Films.
Oates, Joyce Carol “Miao Dao,” Dark Corners Collection.
Pitman, Marion “The Apple Tree,” The Alchemy Press Book of Horrors.
Pugmire, W.H. “An Implement of Ice,” Weirdbook #38.
Rickert, M. “True Crime,” Nightmare 72 September.
Stufflebeam, Bonnie Jo “The Men Who Come from Flowers,” F&SF Sept/Oct.
Tredwell, Lela “My Eye, Eye,” The Pinch.
Walters, Damien Angelica “The Last Wintergirl,” Monsters of Any Kind.
Warren, Kaaron “Sick Cats in Small Places,” A World of Horror.
Wehunt, Michael “The Pine Arch Collection,” The Dark, May #36.
Wilkinson, Charles “The November House,” Vastarien 2.
Wise, A. C. “In the End, it Always Turns Out the Same,” The Dark 37.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Dale Bailey is the author of eight books, including In the Night Wood, The End of the End of Everything, and The Subterranean Season. His short fiction has won the Shirley Jackson Award and the International Horror Guild Award, and has been nominated for the Nebula and Bram Stoker awards. He lives in North Carolina with his family.
“The Donner Party” was originally published in the The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, January/February.
Laird Barron spent his early years in Alaska. He is the author of several books, including The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All, and Swift to Chase, and Blood Standard. His work has also appeared in many magazines and anthologies. Barron currently resides in the Rondout Valley writing stories about the evil that men do.
“Girls Without Their Faces On” was originally published in Ashes and Entropy edited by Robert S. Wilson.
Anne Billson is a writer, film critic, and international cat-sitter whose books include Billson Film Database, Cats on Film, and four horror novels: Suckers, Stiff Lips, The Ex, and The Coming Thing. She lives in Belgium.
“I Remember Nothing” was originally published in We Were Strangers: Stories Inspired by Unknown Pleasures edited by Richard V. Hirst.
Siobhan Carroll is an Associate Professor of English at the University of Delaware where she teaches graduate courses on 19th Century Ocean Cultures, SF and Ecology, and Literatures of Empire. A writer as well as a critic of speculative fiction, she contributes stories to magazines like Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Lightspeed, and Asimov’s Science Fiction, and to anthologies like Children of Lovecraft and Fearful Symmetries. For more of Siobhan Carroll’s fiction, see voncarr-siobhan-carroll.blogspot.com
“Haunt” was originally published in The Devil and the Deep edited by Ellen Datlow.
Adam-Troy Castro’s twenty-seven books include the Andrea Cort trilogy and six middle-grade novels about the dimension-spanning adventures of young Gustav Gloom. January 2019 saw a release of his audio collection, And Other Stories (Skyboat Media). Adam’s works have won the Philip K. Dick Award and Japan’s Seiun Award, and have been nominated for eight Nebulas, three Stokers, two Hugos, and, internationally, the Ignotus (Spain), the Grand Prix de l’Imaginaire (France), and the Kurd-Laßwitz Preis (Germany). Adam lives in Florida with his wife Judi and a rotating collection of cats.
“Red Rain” was originally published in Nightmare #68, June.
Ray Cluley is a British Fantasy Award winner (Best Short Story) with work published in various magazines and anthologies. He has been translated into French, Polish, Hungarian, and Chinese. His collection, Probably Monsters, was shortlisted for a British Fantasy Award and is available from ChiZine Publications. His novella, Water For Drowning, was published by This is Horror and was also shortlisted. Ray’s second collection is currently looking for a home while he works on two novels, one for himself and another for a gaming company. He blogs occasionally at probably monsters.wordpress.com.
“Painted Wolves” was originally published in In Dog We Trust edited by Anthony Cowin.
Bill Davidson is a Scottish writer of mainly horror and fantasy, living in England. Three years ago, he left a successful career in local government to concentrate on writing something more exciting than strategies and reports. In that time, he has written three novels, as yet unpublished, and placed short stories with around thirty high quality publications, mainly in the US and UK. Find him on billdavidsonwriting.com or @bill_davidson57.
“A Brief Moment of Rage” was originally published in Thrilling Endless Apocalypse Short Stories edited by Josie Mitchell.
Kristi DeMeester is the author of the novel, Beneath, and Everything That’s Underneath, a short fiction collection. Her short fiction has appeared in approximately forty magazines such as Pseudopod, Black Static, Fairy Tale Review, and others, and have been reprinted in Ellen Datlow’s The Year’s Best Horror Volume Nine, Stephen Jones’ Best New Horror, and in Year’s Best Weird Fiction Volumes 1, 3, and 5. In her spare time, she alternates between telling people how to pronounce her last name and how to spell her first. She has recently finished the edits to her second novel. Find her online at kristidemeester.com.
“Milkteeth” was originally published in Shimmer #44, July, 2018.
“Golden Sun” was originally published in Chiral Mad 4 edited by Michael Bailey and Lucy A. Snyder.
Born in England and raised in Toronto, Canada, Gemma Files has been a journalist, teacher, film critic and an award-winning horror author for almost thirty years. She has published four novels, a story-cycle, three collections of short fiction, and three collections of speculative poetry; her most recent novel, Experimental Film, won both the 2015 Shirley Jackson Award for Best Novel and the 2016 Sunburst Award for Best Novel (Adult Category). She is currently working on her next book.
“Thin Cold Hands” was originally published in Lamplight Volume 6 Issue 4.
Orrin Grey is a writer, editor, and amateur film scholar specializing in stories about monsters, ghosts, and sometimes the ghosts of monsters. He’s the author of several collections of spooky stories, as well as a couple of volumes on vintage horror cinema, and his film writing has appeared online in places like Strange Horizons, Clarkesworld, and Unwinnable, to name a few. You can follow him on social media or check out his website at orringrey.com.
“No Exit” was originally published in Lost Highways: Dark Fictions From the Road edited by D. Alexander Ward.
Sam Hicks lives in southeast London. “Back Along the Old Track,” her first published short story, was originally published in The Fiends in the Furrows: An Anthology of Folk Horror edited by David T. Neal and Christine M. Scott.
Joe Hill is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Fireman, Strange Weather, NOS4A2, and others. He won the Eisner Award for Best Writer for his ongoing comic book, Locke & Key, created with artist Gabriel Rodriguez. He insists he quite enjoys flying.
“You Are Released” was originally published in Flight or Fright, edited by Stephen King and Bev Vincent.
Carly Holmes lives on the west coast of Wales, UK, and is an award-winning writer, with numerous publications in journals and anthologies for her short prose, including Ambit, The Ghastling, and Black Static.
Her debut novel, The Scrapbook, was shortlisted for the International Rubery Book Award in 2015.
An Associate Editor and Director with Parthian Books, Carly also runs writing workshops.
“Sleep” was originally published in Figurehead.
John Langan is the author of two novels and three collections of
stories. He lives in the Mid-Hudson Valley with his wife and younger son.
“Haak” was originally published in New Fears 2 edited by Mark Morris.
Amelia Mangan was born in London and currently lives in Sydney, Australia. Her debut novel, Release—a Midwestern Gothic tale of love, death, guilt, and madness—was published in 2015, and her short stories have been published in many anthologies. Her story “Blue Highway” won Yen Magazine’s first annual short story competition in 2013; The Book Smugglers selected her story “The Bridegroom” as their website’s first annual featured Halloween tale in 2015.
“I Love You Mary-Grace” was originally published in In Dog We Trust, edited by Anthony Cowin.
Ralph Robert Moore’s fiction has been published in America, Canada, England, Ireland, France, India and Australia in a wide variety of genre and literary magazines and anthologies. His latest novel, The Angry Red Planet, was published last year. He and his wife live in Dallas, Texas.
“Monkeys on the Beach” was originally published in Tales From the Shadow Booth: A Journal of Weird and Eerie Fiction Vol. 2 edited by Dan Coxon.
Thana Niveau is the author of the story collections Octoberland, Unquiet Waters, and From Hell to Eternity, as well as the novel House of Frozen Screams. Her work has appeared in numerous anthologies and has frequently been reprinted in The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror. She has twice been nominated for the British Fantasy award. Originally from the States, she now lives in the UK, in a Victorian seaside town between Bristol and Wales. She shares her life with fellow writer John Llewellyn Probert, in a crumbling gothic tower filled with arcane books and curiosities. And toy dinosaurs.
