Unravel

by D Kershaw

  Genaro wasn’t so lucky. His swollen red blue cadaver lies in bed with me.

  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

  Red Herrings

  by C.L. Williams

  I’m looking for clues to discover who committed the heinous crime. My partner is also looking, but to no avail. We see a candy wrapper with blood in it. We seal it for the crime lab but we both already know what the result will be; the blood of this victim or the next.

  This killer loves leaving red herrings to keep us off their trail. That being said, we cannot afford to leave this behind in case the killer has gotten cocky. The truth is, we’re unable to catch this killer and we know the killer will strike again.

  C.L. WILLIAMS is an independent author from central Virginia. He has written eight poetry books, four novellas, one novel, and a contributor to multiple anthologies, with the most recent appearance being an all-ages anthology titled Temoli from Thazbook. His most recent poetry book, The Paradox Complex, features the poem “Sad Crying Clown” that is now a video on YouTube directed by Matthew Mark Hunter of MMH Productions. C.L. Williams is currently working on his first sci-fi book, an all-ages book titled Novo: Away from Earth. When not writing, C.L. Williams is reading and sharing the work of other independent authors.

  Facebook: writer434

  Twitter: @writer_434

  The Evidence Auction

  by Michael D. Davis

  We were all looking at Ricky as we stood behind the courthouse. He talked about the local killer. The man who slayed seven women. Ricky lived next door to the killer’s old house. He boasted about it every time the creep’s name was uttered. Ricky said he talked to the madman on a daily basis, was damn near friends with him. He said he had some personal items of the murderer who was standing trial this week. Ricky said the bidding would start at ten bucks for the item, then took from his book bag an old bloody house slipper.

  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.

  Bruises

  by Raven Corinn Carluk

  “I never touched them, I swear.” Daddy turned to look at us. “Tell them.”

  We cringed and lowered our eyes.

  The lady from CPS touched my shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’ll never hurt you again.” We nodded, holding each other’s hands tight.

  Mom finished talking to Child Protective Services after the cops drove Daddy away. We played our roles well: shy, like the bruises hurt, like we’re scared to be alone.

  Finally, everyone left, and Mom pulled us into a hug. “I never knew. I’m sorry.”

  We silently agreed to make new bruises if she forced us to eat our vegetables.

  RAVEN CORINN CARLUK writes dark fantasy, paranormal romance, and anything else that catches her interest. She’s authored five novels, where she explores themes of love and acceptance. Her shorter pieces, usually from her darker side, can be found in Black Hare Press anthologies, at Detritus Online, and through Alban Lake Publishers.

  Twitter: @ravencorinn

  Website: RavenCorinnCarluk.Blogspot.Com

  Protection

  by Rich Rurshell

  I showed Vincenzo to a back room, then returned to the restaurant front and displayed the closed sign in the window.

  The Montanari family had insisted I’d be well compensated for ensuring hitman Luis Tafani had easy access to Vincenzo. When he arrived, I pointed out back.

  Pistol drawn, Tafani kicked open the door to find the room empty. I put my pistol to the back of his head and pulled the trigger.

  “Nice job!” said Vincenzo from behind me. “My brother assures me the Montanari family are no more. Consider your establishment under our protection now...gratis, of course.”

  RICH RURSHELL is a short story writer from Suffolk, England. Rich writes Horror, Sci-Fi, and Fantasy, and his stories can be found in various short story anthologies and magazines. Most recently, his story “Subject: Galilee” was published in World War Four from Zombie Pirate Publishing, and “Life Choices” was published in Salty Tales from Stormy Island Publishing. When Rich is not writing stories, he likes to write and perform music.

  Facebook: richrurshellauthor

  Guided

  by Beth W. Patterson

  “Adrienne can’t possibly be responsible for the murders of her husband and his co-worker. They were halfway across the country on a business trip!”

  “I’m telling you, something’s fishy. She doesn’t even seem bereaved.”

  “Maybe she’s in shock. She was friends with the co-worker too. Those two women were so alike.”

  “Including their penchant for sharing hotel rooms with the husband.”

  “Maybe they were trying to cut down on business expenses.”

  “Now you’re really reaching. Adrienne’s the most charismatic tour guide in town. She can get people all over the world to do her bidding. It pays to be charming.”

  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

  Disposal

  by Cameron Marcoux

  “Well, what are we going to do now?” a voice asked.

  “Let’s take a vote,” a second voice said.

  “Fine. I vote the river,” a third voice said.

  “River? No way. Too reckless,” said the second voice.

  “Let’s just dig a hole then,” said the first.

  “Where? Your backyard?” the third voice asked.

  “No. Course not. I don’t know,” said the first voice.

  There was a sigh and then silence.

  “What about acid? I saw them do it on Breaking Bad,” said the third.

  “That could work,” the second agreed.

  All three stared down at the body on the floor.

  CAMERON MARCOUX is a writer of stories, which, considering where you are reading this, makes a lot of sense. He also teaches English to the lovely and terrifying creatures we call teenagers. He lives in the quiet, northern reaches of New England in the U.S. with his girlfriend and scaredy dog.

  Better Luck Next Time

  by Wondra Vanian

  How the body ended up in the locker room was a mystery to everyone but Dougie—and he wasn’t talking.

  Oh, he wasn’t worried about being caught (perks of being the police chief’s son), he just wasn’t interested in Coby Lange’s death. He was only interested in Jasmine.

  Dougie had spent months waiting for his chance to get close to her. Now, Jasmine needed a shoulder to cry on and he was ready to provide it.

  But, before he could, Coby�
�s best friend was there, hugging her. Dougie’s eyes narrowed.

  Looked like there was going to be a double funeral...

  WONDRA VANIAN is an American living in the United Kingdom with her Welsh husband and their army of fur babies. A writer first, Wondra is also an avid gamer, photographer, cinephile, and blogger. She has music in her blood, sleeps with the lights on, and has been known to dance naked in the moonlight. Wondra was a multiple Top-Ten finisher in the 2017 and 2018 Preditors and Editors Reader’s Poll, including ithe Best Author category. Her story, “Halloween Night,” was named a Notable Contender for the Bristol Short Story Prize in 2015.

  Website : www.wondravanian.com

  Trouble in a Tight Skirt

  by Aiki Flinthart

  The broad was classy. Ruby lips. Garnet nails. Hair like white diamonds. But maybe the heat made me reckless. Summer of ‘29 everyone drank themselves into a stupor on bathtub gin to forget they had no dough.

  Including me.

  So, when she offered greenbacks to find her husband, Snorky, I lit a cigarette and said, “Swell, babe.”

  Shoulda known. Too good to be true.

  Last place I checked was a speakeasy on Chicago’s southside. Strippers, whiskey, cigars. My kinda place.

  The muscle looked me over. “Boss, your missus sent a private dick.”

  Al Capone sneered. “Shoot him.”

  I fired first.

  AIKI FLINTHART has had short stories shortlisted in the Aurealis awards and top-8 listed in the USA Writers of the Future competition, as well as published in various anthologies and e-mags. She has 11 published spec fic novels and has edited 2 short story anthologies. She regularly gives workshops on writing fight scenes at conventions. Lives in Brisbane. Does martial arts, archery, knife throwing and lute-playing.

  Website: www.aikiflinthart.com

  Transform

  by Nicola Currie

  “Congrats, Sarah,” my manager says. “Caseworker of the Year. You deserve it!”

  I say thanks for the hundredth time as I close the car door, waving her off.

  It’s not why I do it, of course. I see women who come to us purpled and broken transform, I help them escape from partners who are more monsters than men.

  I enter my front door clutching my plaque and champagne, glad my life has meaning.

  My layabout husband jumps from his messy sofa as I throw my bottle against the wall.

  “What the fuck have you done all day?” I ask.

  NICOLA CURRIE is 34, from Cambridge, UK where she works in educational publishing. She has published poetry in literary magazines, including Mslexia and Sarasvati, and has also completed her first novel, which was longlisted for the Bath Children’s Novel Award.

  Website: writeitandweep.home.blog

  The Axe Artist

  by Nerisha Kemraj

  His axe drives in deeper and deeper, his adrenaline fuelling him as he slashes her to shreds. A distant wolf howls at the full moon in all its silvery glory, breaking his spell as his eyes finally register the bloody pulp lying before him. Mincemeat, he smiles, remembering breakfast that morning. Mince for breakfast with her, and now mince that was her. Thrilled, he throws his head back in a fit of laughter.

  But the wolves will be here soon.

  Quickly gathering his beloved collection of killing toys, he takes one last look at his masterpiece, before she becomes nothingness.

  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

  Jane

  by David Bowmore

  1958—The first murder case I was in charge of was the brutal knifing of a prostitute in an underpass. I’ve seen many corpses, but no one deserved to die the way she did.

  Her name was Jane, and she left a daughter behind.

  Unfortunately, there were no fingerprints and the murder weapon was not in the immediate vicinity, but from the spray of blood, the angle and height of blade entry, her killer must have been a woman. Old-fashioned police work did the rest.

  I rested my hand on the streetwalker’s shoulder, and Jane’s daughter turned around.

  “You’re nicked.”

  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

  Marked

  by Dawn DeBraal

  Arriving at the station late for work that evening, Detective Andrews was sent to the local hospital to get the victim’s statement; a woman had been violently attacked and left for dead.

  From her hospital bed, the victim haltingly told the detective what happened. She had been beaten badly.

  “I scratched him good on his left hand. I am certain you will find the man who did this to me has some open wounds,” she reported.

  The detective nodded sympathetically. He continued to write her testimony as he quickly put his left hand down on his leg, wincing in pain.

  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.

  Street Justice

  By Eddie D. Moore

  The windows rattled as motorcycles parked in front of the diner. The men that came inside laughed riotously and verbally jabbed each other with stinging quips. Leather creaked as they took their seats.

  The waitress took their orders and avoided wayward hands with a practised skill. The grill was sizzling when a man walked in and pulled a gun.

  “Give me all the money in the drawer and no one gets hurt!”

  One of the bikers knocked the gunman out with a single punch, and said, “No need to call the law. We’ll take care of him after we eat.”

  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

  Capone and the

  Accordion Man

  by Sue Marie St. Lee

  The brothers formed a trio of accordion players. Dad was the leader, Jock and Rand played backup. Tonight, they would play at Cicero, in Al Capone’s nightclub. Blue Moon was the first song requested and played, followed by Little White Lies. When Dad struck the secret chord, guards, employees, and attendees froze in time. Entering the cash room, Dad expanded his accordion’s bellows, and neatly placed stacks of cash within concealed openings. Bellows full, Dad returned on stage, releasing the chord and people from their inanimate state. Capone never suspected the musicians, who left the nightclub whistling a happy tune.

  SUE MARIE ST. LEE is a retired Finance Manager who has been freelancing, researching, writing content, designing corporate websites and brochures over the past fifteen years. She also started a small business specializing in digital photo restoration. Born and raised in Chicago, she moved to Canada w
here she and her husband raised their sons until her husband’s untimely death. As a young widow, Sue Marie employed her skills, tenacity, strengths and wisdom to support her young family. Currently, Sue Marie contributes to several blogs, is a ghostwriter for numerous online publishers and corporate websites. Her sons are grown, productive adults.

  True Justice

  by Crystal L. Kirkham

  Thought I’d seen the worst of humanity after thirty years on the force. Until Amy Kershaw. She was barely recognisable when we found her. I can’t even describe the horrors that had been done to her.

  Evidence pointed to her boyfriend, but he had a hell of a lawyer.

  I couldn’t let a monster like that go free, so I grabbed him one night and took him to a place he’d never be found.

  I wanted him to suffer as she had, but that kind of cruelty was beyond me. I did my worst though, and I never regretted it.