by D Kershaw
Facebook: GabriellaBalcom.lonestarauthor
From My Cold, Dead Fingers
By Eddie D. Moore
Perry placed the revolver on Mr. Cromer’s desk. “There’s your proof.”
Mr. Cromer’s lips thinned. “That’s his gun, but it doesn’t prove that he is dead.”
Perry grinned and placed a small leather sack beside the gun. A horrible smell filled the room when Mr. Cromer looked inside. Mr. Cromer closed the sack and held his breath until he opened a window.
Perry grinned. “I’m sure you recognised the scar on the back of his hand.”
Mr. Cromer shrugged and counted out twenty gold coins. “This doesn’t prove that he’s dead, but it was his shooting hand, so close enough.”
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
My Little Memento
by Jasmine Jarvis
Amongst the crowd, I stood and watched. Blue and red lights lit up the night as spectators whispered in fear their theories as to what could have happened to her. A police officer brushed by me and I smiled at him. I know they won’t find any trace of me, I made sure of that. I am meticulous. I have been doing this for so long now that it can be considered my profession. My hand clasped her severed finger, my little memento; hidden in my pocket. A rush of joy overcame me as I slipped away into the night.
JASMINE JARVIS is a teller of tales and scribbler of scribbles. She lives in Brisbane, Australia with her husband Michael, their two children, Tilly and Mish; Ripley, their German Shepherd, and indoor fat cat, Dwight K. Shrute.
Crocodile Tears
by Charlotte O’Farrell
“I knew I shouldn’t disturb the scene because it would ruin the DNA evidence, your Honour,” said the officer, solemn. “But I didn’t know if the victim was dead. If there was a chance of saving him...”
The judge approved of his compassion. The poor guy had put humanity ahead of procedure, and maybe made a conviction harder. But who could blame him for trying to help a dying man?
The officer smirked getting off the stand. He’d got away with another one. He’d be reaching double figures by the end of the year if he kept this rate up!
CHARLOTTE O’FARRELL is a lifelong horror fan who writes about all manner of the weird and wonderful. Her work can be found at the Drabble, the Rock N Roll Horror Zine and Horror Tree, among other places.
Twitter: @ChaOFarrell
Adopt
by J.A. Hammer
Cots marched around the edges of the room with their heads against the walls. Mallory, the senior detective on the case, gagged, holding a hand over her mouth. Her partner’s head jerked, and the two exchanged horrified looks.
They weren’t prepared for the sweet scent coming from five of the beds, where blood pooled around tiny corpses attached to their too-still mothers.
Sam left first, Mallory closing the door behind them. The flickering light in the dilapidated hallway was comforting in a strange way. Familiar at least.
“The computer downstairs,” said Mallory, determined. “And adoption records. We’ll find the bastard.”
J.A. HAMMER lives off of coffee (mostly Dead Eyes) and stress in the wild concrete city of Tokyo, where zombies are living and using the train lines every day. Known as CoffeeQuills online, they’re mostly safe to talk to (bites only happen in the name of science) but be wary if approaching before dawn. The cake is not a lie, but you’ll have to get it yourself. If you’re interested in steampunk/paranormal Japan, check out their Patreon, or if you’d like daily drabbles and pictures from Japan, follow CoffeeQuills on either Instagram or Twitter.
Website : www.patreon.com/coffeequills
The Spotless Weapon
by Shawn M. Klimek
The Finley Manor servants all waited primly as Detective Givens read a note handed to him by Constable Barnes. Addressing the butler, he said, “A garden trowel has been found in the hedge below Lady Finley’s bedroom window. Mr. Lovejoy, do you think we’ll find the murderer’s fingerprints on it?”
The butler smirked. “You’re trying to trip me up, Detective, but the constable already let it slip that the murder weapon was a knife, not a trowel, and that no prints were found!”
“The spotless knife proved a clue,” said Givens, “when we found where your bloody glove was buried.”
SHAWN M. KLIMEK is the middle child of seven creative siblings, a globetrotting, U.S. military spouse, an internationally best-selling short-story writer, award-winning poet, and butler to a Maltese. More than one hundred of his stories and poems have been published in digital magazines or anthologies, including BHP’s Deep Space, Eerie Christmas and every book so far in the Dark Drabbles series.
Website: jotinthedark.blogspot.com
Facebook: shawnmklimekauthor
Coming of Age with a Bang
by C.L. Steele
Jack played with friends in the sunset rays of the fresh-mown backyard. His jar held trapped fireflies. Excitement, joy, and barbecue lingered in the cooling air. Soon they’d watch fireworks. Jack wondered where Bobby and Martin went. He took one step toward mom but caught a bug instead, and a view of Bobby and Martin through the window, playing with dad’s gun. Just then, the light of the roman candle whistled upward.
“Oooh...aaaah...”
Excitement faded when the bang came too soon. A splattered spider-looking blood print smacked the window. Everyone rushed to the house. Shattered, Jack set his fireflies free.
C.L. STEELE creates new worlds and mystical places filled with complex characters on exciting journeys. Her typical genre is Sci-Fi/Fantasy, where she concentrates on writing in the sub-genres of Magical Realism, Near Future, and Futuristic worlds. Published in numerous anthologies, she looks forward to the release of her debut novel. In the interim, she works on other novels and continues to write short stories, novellas, and poetry. She is featured as one of five international authors in ICWG Magazine through Clarendon Publishing House and is a contributing author to Blood Puddles Literary Journal. Follow her career at:
Facebook: author.CLSteele
Instagram: @clsteele.author
Crime Doesn’t Always Pay
by Isabella Fox
“Only one more transfer and I’ll be able to retire to the Bahamas,” Richard said to himself as he siphoned another million dollars out of the old duck’s account. Mrs Klutz had trusted him to manage her estate after her husband died. Safely tucked away in a nursing home, she had no idea she was almost penniless.
Richard answered the knock at his door. A distinguished man said, “Morgan and Morgan solicitors. Mrs Klutz passed away last week. I’d like to see the details of her account for probate.”
Richard knew where he was heading wasn’t to the Bahamas.
ISABELLA FOX teaches primary aged students to love writing by making it challenging. In her spare time she reads, goes for long walks with her husband and works hard on her farm.
Steal My Sunshine
by Steven Lord
“You want to do what?”
“You heard me. I wanna steal the sun.”
“But why?” Mike tried to focus on keeping his beer in the glass as he brought it to his mouth.
“You kidding? Think of the ransom! People would pay anything to get it back.”
“That.” He paused to belch. “That is a good point.”
“Besides. S’annoying. Too bright.”
“Tom, you’ve convinced me. Now, how are we going to do it?”
Tom giggled. “Already have.”
Mike looked blearily at his watch, at the dark streets outside his bar. Then he unmuted the TV as
the emergency broadcast started.
STEVEN LORD is a debut author based in the south of England. He is currently attempting to cram writing in alongside a busy day job, with varying levels of success. While his long-term aspiration is to get a novel published, at present he would be pretty pleased with a drabble or two.
Somewhere in the Night
by Destiny Eve Pifer
Beneath the trees they gathered around a circle of leaves, camera’s flashing in the darkness as the chatter of voices got louder.
In the circle she lay, her faded blue dress covered in blood and her flesh torn.
Uniformed officers prowled the forest, searching for answers and searching for the truth.
But outside that circle a detective crouches. Reaching out a gloved hand to a clenched up fist holding on to a piece of paper. The only clue to a story with an unhappy ending. Somewhere in the darkness a killer lurks, hiding in wait. Two wicked evil eyes watch.
DESTINY EVE PIFER is a published author whose work has appeared in Angel’s: A Divine Microfiction Anthology, and has been accepted into the Unravel Anthology. Her work has also appeared in Single Mothers Anthology, River Tales Anthology, Kiss and Tell and Summer Fling. Her work has also appeared in FATE Magazine, Spotlight on Recovery, Country Magazine and True Confessions. She resides in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania with her son Dartanyan.
Appearances
by Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
There had been a series of killings with the same modus operandi. All the victims were healthy, attractive individuals, and their internals had been scooped out. This time, there was a piece of paper trapped underneath the body.
“A suicide note?” Inspector Larsen exclaimed.
“It’s impossible!” Detective Olsen said. “No one could do that to themselves.”
“Unless they sold their insides,” Larsen suggested.
All the victims attended an exclusive medical clinic days before their deaths. The demand for organs outstripped supply, with transplanted organs only lasting a limited time. Immortality was available for a price, and so apparently, was death.
CECELIA HOPKINS-DREWER lives in Adelaide, South Australia. She has written a Masters paper on H.P. Lovecraft, and her weird poetry has been published in THE MENTOR (edited by Ron Clarke), and SPECTRAL REALMS (edited by S.T. Joshi). Her novels include a teenage vampire series comprised of three volumes, MYSTIC EVERMORE, SAINTS AND SINNERS & AUTUMN SECRETS. Short stories have been published in WORLDS, ANGELS & MONSTERS (Dark Drabbles anthologies edited by Dean Kershaw).
Amazon: amazon.com/Cecelia-Hopkins-Drewer/e/B071G968NM
Website: chopkin39.wixsite.com/website
Not Far from the Tree
by Beth W. Patterson
“Young man, we’re trying to find a Tommy Calligeri. Do you happen to know who he is?” The private investigator flashed an ingratiating smile and stared at the collection of mutilated toys—mostly plastic army men missing limbs or heads—under the oak tree.
The little boy beamed. “He’s my daddy. I’m gonna be just like him someday! He’s probably in his basement workshop. Wanna see?”
The investigator fought back the contents of his stomach as he entered the basement. The stench was unbearable.
The slam of the door behind him, total darkness, and the sound of chainsaws were worse.
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
Another Quiet Small-Town Diner
by Michael D. Davis
He was freaking out. Pacing back and forth, he repeated to himself, “I didn’t mean to.” I took ahold of my son, hugging him tight, and said I knew he didn’t mean it. The girl lay on the diner’s linoleum with her head nearly ripped off. I sighed then sent him for some garbage bags and got to work.
Only three days later, a couple of officers came in asking about her. I kept my answers simple and demeanour calm. It was a cinch. Funniest of all, being in a small town, they waved at the garbage man while leaving.
MICHAEL D. DAVIS was born and raised in a small town in Iowa. A high school graduate and avid reader he has aspired to be a writer for years. Having written over thirty short stories, ranging in genre from comedy to horror from flash fiction to novella. He continues in his accursed pursuit of a career in the written word and in his hunt Michael’s love for stories in all genres and mediums will not falter.
Ransom
by Jodi Jensen
Tara woke in the pitch blackness to the sound of total silence. She tried to sit up but banged her head on something solid.
What—
It all came rushing back. Shopping with her sister. Loading the bags into the car. Her son strapped in his seat. A white van with the side door open and two armed men.
The last thing she heard was the baby, and her sister, screaming.
Laying trapped in a casket, locked in a storage shed was a helluva time to remember her mother’s warning about marrying into the Gambino family.
Anthony better pay the ransom...
JODI JENSEN grew up moving from California, to Massachusetts, and a few other places in between, before finally settling in Utah at the ripe old age of nine. The nomadic life fed her sense of adventure as a child and the wanderlust continues to this day. With a passion for old cemeteries, historical buildings and sweeping sagas of days gone by, it was only natural she’d dream of time traveling to all the places that sparked her imagination.
Good for Somethin’
by Brandy Bonifas
Gravel crunched as the sheriff drove up the driveway. Vicky watered her garden as he sauntered over.
“Any word on Ed’s disappearance?” she asked.
“Nope. Stopped by to see if he’d tried to contact you.”
“Nah, you know Ed, always drinkin’ and gamblin’. Probably tangled with the wrong sort and lost.”
He nodded. “Garden’s looking good. Those’re some fine tomatoes.”
“Secret’s good fertiliser.”
She recalled the last night Ed staggered home drunk, smelling of cheap perfume. That was the last night he’d hit her. Turned out Ed was good for somethin’ after all. Her tomatoes had never been so red.
BRANDY BONIFAS lives in Ohio with her husband and son. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in anthologies by Clarendon House Publications, Pixie Forest Publishing, Zombie Pirate Publishing, and Blood Song Books, as well as the online publications CafeLit and Spillwords Press.
Website: www.brandybonifas.com
Facebook: brandybonifasauthor
Unspoken
by Claire Count
I rest and wait in the dark forgotten place. I am the one who fell through the cracks, the one who is a faded memory. Protected from sight in my dusty niche, spiders tickle as they walk over my steely skin.
The saturnine detective will never have his answer unless he asks me. I know the answer to his question. Who killed his love? I know the secret of his best friend, who hid me so well, so close.
Sometimes, I want to call out, “Move the shelf! I am here!” But my silence is as sharp as my edge.
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-genr
e tales.
Website: ClaireCount.com
Twitter: @ClaireCount
Entropy
by Jacob Baugher
I dropped my phone at the exchange. I check my pockets. Empty. Stupid.
The dope bulges under my Ravens jacket. Risky job, but Nikki and I need the money.
I retrace my steps, but the night’s dark. Spaceships glimmer in the sky. Wish I could join them.
The phone’s gone.
I move on and sell the dope to a white-ass college kid. In the morning I go back to the corner. The cops carry a scared-looking kid away. He’s got my phone.
