Fiction & Poetry Archive
for MT Contributing Authors
The following is a chronological list of the works and authors previously published in the Midnight Times.
SUMMER 2009 - ESCAPE FROM THE DARKNESS (#25)
BESSIE'S TALE BY LARK LUCENTE.
Emma paced behind the library circulation desk dreading what had once delighted her. Beautiful snow. Threatening snow. A sign that she would come... (continued)
CLASSROOM OF THE DEAD BY LAWRENCE R. DAGSTINE.
The room was huge. A cavernous, old turn-of-the-century affair, with twelve-foot-high ceilings and magnificent, large windows that looked out on absolutely nothing worth seeing... (continued)
DREAMWALKER BY ANTONIN DVORAK.
Sometimes when darkness falls, it falls hard, and it's all we can do to keep from being crushed under its weight... (continued)
FEEDING THE EMPIRE BY STEVE HONEYWELL.
"Sir, there are a few hundred Punjabi outside the gates seeking food." Nigel Finchley forced himself to stand at attention under the stern gaze of Dennis Manley Colston-Hewitt, secretary for the British Empire, Amritsar, India... (continued)
THE GIFT BY MEL GOLDBERG.
Kevin and I had just left the drive-through with fresh coffee when we heard the car radio crackle. "Code 10-91. 1520 Pine Trail Road"... (continued)
JOHN ANDERSON'S WIFE BY ELIZABETH CROCKET.
Enid had been lonely for as long as she could remember. She smiled, thinking of how lucky she was... (continued)
LIFE'S BLOOD BY MARK BASTABLE.
Lacroix ran a toothpick around one glinting incisor. "You really ought to give this some thought," he suggested... (continued)
MAN-MADE IN THE HOLY SKY BY MARK JOSEPH KIEWLAK.
I climbed the salt-drenched stony stairs. I held fast to the railing, to my sanity. All around they flew... (continued)
MELANCHOLY 27 and MELANCHOLY 44. POETRY BY STEPHEN MURET.
ON DEIRDRE'S SIDE BY GERALD BUDINSKI.
It all started with a photograph. Not the entire picture--it was just the girl on the right that fascinated me... (continued)
TIME'S VANDAL. POETRY BY MARK JOSEPH KIEWLAK.
TRAJECTORY BY MARK C. FRANKEL.
It begins with a bullet. Lying peacefully, nestled amongst cold steel. Unflinching and unremorseful for its task to come. Its abeyance is ending... (continued)
WHERE THE WATER COMES FROM BY ERIK D. HARSHMAN.
Greg and Dan sat quietly in their apartment; the basic, white-walled kitchen turning their silence into electricity, the electricity, in turn, setting everything in the room invisibly on fire... (continued)
WINTER 2009 - THE BIG NEW YEAR FICTION ISSUE (#24)
. . . BY M. T. KOSUB.
X hesitated. This was his last chance to call it off. Then he sighed, and dialed... (continued)
DECOMPOSED SERENITY. POETRY BY MORBID A.K.A. JASON ELLIS #155497.
HELVELLYN BY DAVID BUCHAN.
October was not long for becoming November, and the last of the summer wind was kicking up a storm on the screes of Helvellyn... (continued)
ICON BY ROLAND ALLNACH.
The critic, he hovered through the sprawling neon night like a dragonfly over a moonlit pond, unseen except for the shimmers he obscured with his outline... (continued)
The IFPA BY ADAM GRAUPE.
Oren felt ecstatic the day an online magazine called Twilighttimes.com published his first short story. The website also published his biography and email address, and Oren anticipated receiving feedback from readers of his story... (continued)
IN A DARK ROOM BY BARBARA DONNELLY LANE.
He casts a fishing line into the river. The sky is blue, and he is up to his hips in rubber waders and calm currents... (continued)
INTO THE PHARAOH BY KYLE LANG.
Two sets of fossil eyes expanded at the onset. Pink and purple peeked from the shoulders of mountains as I watched their yellow Subaru pull up to the Mill Brook Trailhead... (continued)
THE JOGGER BY LIAM BRENNAN.
The cottage was perched atop a steep hill overlooking Cass Lake in Upstate New York. It had been a three-hour drive from Manhattan in Friday morning traffic... (continued)
THE LEAD MINE BY RICHARD VAUGHN.
In late September Dan Teaman and Beata Ryce slipped away from their spouses to party and fornicate from St. Louis into the drear autumn of the Ozarks... (continued)
THE MAN FROM NIGHT CLASS BY RYAN R. ENNIS.
Unsettled by the sights of neglect and disorder, Annette hunched her shoulders and shook her head as she looked around her mother’s apartment in Hamtramck, Michigan... (continued)
MERE ECONOMICS BY MARGARET KARMAZIN.
Clair Stone was fox-trotting with her son Marshall when she slipped from his arms and sank to the floor... (continued)
NIGHTWEB BY JAN MATTHEWS.
Standing hip-deep in the overgrown lawn of late summer, Lucy stared at the glassed-in porch... (continued)
FALL 2008 - LOST IN THE DARKNESS (#23)
ATLANTIN'S HEART BY DONNA MARIE ROBB.
Countless islands sprinkled the oceanic world Atlantin like crumbs but Arryel had no memory of which one she had been born on. The isle of Zathia was the only one she knew, the only one she remembered... (continued)
BLIND DATE, TRAVEL and MASTER OF CEREMONIES. POETRY BY JOHN GREY.
THE BRIDE OF EVIL. POETRY BY NOOR-UL-AIN NOOR.
FIRE EATER BY C. L. LYNN.
Shackled ankle and wrist, the creature barely breathed. He drooped like a wet blanket between the two turnkeys... (continued)
FOR SAKINA BY RIK HUNIK.
"Please, Jared, visit me when you get out of the army. Now that Aunt Aleena is dead you are the only family I have left." So read the letter I got from my sister Sakina, dated two months ago... (continued)
HERE BE MONSTERS BY CHRISTOPHER MARI.
John Garcia’s earpiece chirped three times and stirred him from his half-conscious dreaming... (continued)
THE HUNTRESS BY BRIDGET R. CARR.
She was a wraith in black leather and silk traveling a thin concrete path that ran along the side of an ancient monolithic building... (continued)
INTRUSIVE DARKNESS BY DAMIEN COWGER.
The woman could not remember her name, but she remembered that she hated the darkness... (continued)
LITTLE BROWN BOX BY LL ADAMS.
Patience. It was a virtue her father had emphasized throughout Martha’s youth, telling her it was an asset and that she would someday be as tall and beautiful as her mother... (continued)
THE LITTLE TOWN OF SENSATION BY KEITH KENNEDY.
He was born on a thorn bush, so they say. The bush had flowered, black and wide, and become dense enough to hold him... (continued)
MANIC IS THE DARK NIGHT. POETRY BY MICHAEL LEE JOHNSON.
OUT OF BODY, OUT OF MIND BY CHRISTIAN ROBERTS.
She's imagining looking down at herself from someplace up near the ceiling. Suddenly she sees herself... (continued)
PIX AND PAN BY JACK YU.
The Twelve Olympians have their comedic duo: Pix and Pan - a pair of halfie, half-brothers. Together, they are part bug, part goat, part man, part God and some have argued complete ass (either the donkey or the other kind)... (continued)
THE SAMURAI AND THE SNOW STORM BY JENETTE LABEL.
The waxing moon shed a pallid light onto the encampment and the frigid wind cut like daggers through tents and bedding, causing men to shiver in their slumber... (continued)
TWITCH BY BENJAMIN GLEISSER.
The lanky stranger slid into the chair across from Geiger. "I saw you twitch"... (continued)
SUMMER 2008 - OF DARKNESS & PURGATORY (#22)
EXCHANGE ALLEY BY WHITNEY LAKIN.
In the city sky, the stars glowed like brand-new Mardi Gras beads. As he hung in the doorway Flint imagined their plastic smell... (continued)
FALL OF THE ESTRELA BY ERIN O'RIORDAN.
Two weeks out from the Gold Coast, the Portuguese slaver Estrela was making good time... (continued)
FIRST CLASS CORPSE BY RYAN POTTER.
Todd Decker’s medication had stopped working and he was thinking about the explosion again. He’d just boarded the 747... (continued)
JACK BE NIMBLE BY BRYAN HENERY.
Brad Parson was unreadable. It wasn’t just his unremarkable appearance, his generic twenty-something face, his plain brown hair, or his common brown eyes... (continued)
THE LAST PATIENT BY GIA FARRELL.
If unable to keep this appointment kindly give 24 hours notice otherwise charge will be made for time reserved... (continued)
MANESGROVE, OR BY ROBERT T. KNIGHT.
Caitlin glanced at the dipping fuel gauge, swearing through her curls of red hair. Giving her head a brief thump against the steering wheel, she peered down the dark road ahead... (continued)
PRIVATE GARDEN and TIRED. POETRY BY AMETHA WILLIAMS.
QUANTIMO BY ROBERT E. BUCK.
Nothing looked unusual in the off-campus apartment at 504 Collegiate Place. Football banners on the wall, dirty dishes in the sink, unmade bed, clothing on the floor... (continued)
STARING INTO THE ABYSS. POETRY BY BILL DEARMOND.
YOU'RE ONLY AS JUNG AS YOU FEEL BY BILL DEARMOND.
Judy Barton stared at her pale reflection in the mirror. She was a plain, though not unattractive, woman in her mid 30s... (continued)
SPRING 2008 - THE VAMPIRE FICTION ISSUE (#21)
CHOICE BY D. KRAUSS.
At noon, Toby's master was staked, his head and heart removed, garlic stuffed in the still living mouth, and then the coffin and remains burned... (continued)
CITY OF THE DEAD BY DAVID BYRON.
Susan sat bolt upright in bed, staring into the darkness, terror in her heart. The taste of vomit in her throat... (continued)
DARK ANGEL BY CATHERINE BANCROFT.
They were almost at their destination, finally. Six year old Tracey was still asleep on the backseat of the Escalade... (continued)
DEATH CHASE BY M. L. ERWIN & T. J. SCOTT.
It was almost dawn. Where was she? There was a crowd of people catching the subway. Most likely people that worked the graveyard shift... (continued)
EVENING WITH A GENUINE VAMPIRE BY SPENCER WENDLETON.
Tonight in Pittsburgh, the vampire enthusiasts are stirring up the night. Look—there’s Perry and Julie Unger. They hide in that alley taking snapshots with their new digital camera... (continued)
GERALDINE'S ADDICTION BY LAWRENCE R. DAGSTINE.
Balancing the bag of refillable glass bottles against one hip, Geraldine Hintz fit the key into the lock with her free hand... (continued)
HOW DO I LOVE THEE, DRACULA? POETRY BY KIMBERLY ROBINSON.
IN THE NIGHT KITCHEN BY MIKE BRINES.
Nothing shows you first-hand the dark side of Humanity like working the drive-thru window of a fast-food place... (continued)
THE LESSON BY HEATHER KUEHL.
My first impression of Phillip was that he was blessed with ignorance. There he was, standing in front of a vampire, brandishing a cross like it was actually going to do something... (continued)
LOST LOVE BY RICHARD LIND.
"Come on Izzy. You need to get up," Sebastian said pulling on Izzy’s arm... (continued)
MIDNIGHT FLOWERS and DREAM IN RUFFLES AND LACE. POETRY BY MARY BRETT.
SHADPIRE BY RUSSELL H. KRAUSS.
"The subject of our spring research project," Sociology Professor Casie Notwen announced, as he wrote on the blackboard with a flourish: ISAAC NEWTON - STUDIES IN VAMPIRISM... (continued)
VAMPIRE LOVE and DARLING MONSTER POETRY BY A. K. SYKORA.
WHAT I DID ON MY HOLIDAYS BY CATHY BRYANT.
I went on holiday it was to an island. Not like last year a long time ago when we went to a beach and I made a sandcasle... (continued)
WINTER 2008 - THE BIG NEW YEAR FICTION ISSUE (#20)
AN ALTERNATIVE TO REALITY BY ROB MCLEAN.
Martin Wilton sat at his desk and turned on his computer. The hum of the machine soothed his soul like a lullaby. For now everything was better... (continued)
A BOTTLE OF POISON OR A HAND IN THE BOX BY MELISSA SIHAN MUTLU.
The town of Sacharyn was located in the country of Devastis. The district of Gastûsck was the poorest district in Sacharyn. A dirt path, forty feet wide separated two rows of dwellings... (continued)
CHARLOTTE'S COVE BY SCOTT T. BARNES.
We skirted the Mi’Kmaq graveyard and cut through a briar hedge rather than take Fool’s Chance Lane and risk being seen... (continued)
CIRQUE DE FEU BY KYLAN RICE.
A cigarette dangled from the corner of Claude's mouth and smoke curled into the air, coalescing with the gasoline fumes oppressing the tent..." (continued)
FRIDAY BY RIK HUNIK.
"Why can’t you just leave me alone, doc?" Valentine Biggs could tell right away that the woman was a head doctor. "I must’ve told my story a dozen times already"... (continued)
GROUP BY MICHAEL S. MCGUIRE.
I was overcome by the uncomfortable familiarity of anxiety-meets-relief as I entered the room. As usual, the others were sitting in a semi-circle in metal folding chairs, watching at me as I walked over to the lone empty seat... (continued)
PAIN BY KEVIN CRAWFORD.
Brick Warren was in pain. The ache crawled across the surface of his skin, embedded itself in his pores, soaked its way to his heart and poisoned his blood... (continued)
PERFECT DELIVERY BY ADAM GRAUPE.
I rang the doorbell and an elderly white haired woman in a long nightgown answered the door. What really stood out was her beard..." (continued)
PSYCHO ON THE D TRAIN BY MEL WALDMAN.
Coming home to Brooklyn from the South Bronx, I had fallen asleep on the D train. But the young psycho woke me up..." (continued)
THE SILENCE BY D. L. OLSON.
Awashhh-shhhh. Awashhh-shhhh. Again and again the waves made that soothing sound, as they imperceptibly swept away the skinny beach. Despite the rising heat, Jason Hartley was shivering..." (continued)
SOLID JOE'S TROMBONE BY MIKE PHILLIPS.
It was a dark day and the rain that fell from the heavens seemed to weep the passing of a good man. They came to his side, all the people of the little community... (continued)
A VOICE AMONG ECHOES BY JEREMY S. ADAMS.
My brother, Reggie, only wrote in the fury of what our mother called "sublime inspiration." Afterwards, he rarely remembered what he had written,... (continued)
FALL 2007 - INTROSPECTIONS OF DARKNESS (#19)
BONE, MOON, BLOOD AND VINE BY MIKE PHILLIPS.
Slowly it came. A single tendril unfurled, reached into the balmy night air, and made purchase upon an old fencepost... (continued)
CHYNNA'S CALL BY MILAN SMITH.
When I was 11-years-old, I went insane. Until then I had a typical childhood, much of which I remember well until my "incident"... (continued)
THE DARKNESS and THE WINDOW POETRY BY NOOR-UL-AIN NOOR.
THE FIRST ONES BY JOSHUA LEGG.
Doctor Timothy James, log entry: June twenty third, twenty-two, fifty-seven. I think this is going to be my last entry for a while... (continued)
FROZEN HEARTS BY GREG WICKENHOFER.
Jasper took the janitor's job at Cryogen to make some money, not to fall in love. But Jasper was too good at his work... (continued)
HURRICANE EYE BY J. LANG WOOD.
He never meant to ride out the hurricane on the island. He was just checking on security at the complex. It was his job... (continued)
MAKING FRIENDS BY ANTHONY R. PEZZULA.
Everything seemed to be going well for Sharon, so why did she have this feeling in the pit of her stomach? She felt like someone was watching them... (continued)
MAN DYING IN AN OLD MONTANA HOTEL. POETRY BY WILLIAM SCOTT FISHER.
PAINLESS BY NAOMI CLARK.
I don’t get caught out very often, and when I do I end up beaten and humiliated. The beatings don’t faze me; it’s the humiliation that gets to me... (continued)
THE PERFECT DAUGHTER BY DONNA MARIE ROBB.
Phoebe’s heart was pounding so hard that she was certain her husband David, who was sitting next to her in the waiting room, could hear it... (continued)
THE SEVERED CORD BY ADAM GRAUPE.
I will make a profit of $5,000 in the stock market. I will make a profit of $5,000 in the stock market. I will make a profit of $5,000 in the stock market..." (continued)
SUMMER 2007 - THE DARKNESS WITHIN OURSELVES (#18)
BAD EFFIGY BY DANIEL BACHLEDA.
It wakes him up in the night, at the foot of his bed, gurgling helplessly in its crooked squished throat... (continued)
THE DESIGN BY JEAN RUSSELL.
A silver-haired woman in a navy blue suit handed me the book. She smelled like face powder and old roses... (continued)
THE DOPPLEGANGER BLUES BY ANDREW KILLMEIER.
I first saw it on the Metro Red Line. I had been driven by loneliness from the white crypt of my apartment out into the desolate night... (continued)
A GARDEN FOR WHITE ROSES BY SARA CORDOVA.
I only go to see Stella on dark nights. The no-moon nights, the thunderstorm nights. Even when there's rain and hail pouring down on me, I set up my pots and my shovels..." (continued)
IN THE KETTLE BY RIK HUNIK.
BOOM! Ssssssssssssssssssssss... Jeff saw Billy, "the Old Timer," clutching his ample belly and all but rolling on the floor with mirth... (continued)
LESLIE BY BARRY BRENNESSEL.
I was already five minutes late for the 8:16 bus. Ordinarily, I wouldn't care. But today was my last chance to prove to Dr. Durchschlag that I took my sessions with him seriously... (continued)
SMOKE DEMON BY GRANT MAHER.
Had Ron not whipped his head around suddenly when the phone rang, he might not have spotted the thing for Lord knows how long... (continued)
THE STONES BY MARY THORNBURG.
Some mysteries, it seems to me, are better left unsolved, at whatever cost to one's peace of mind--or, perhaps I should say, to one's faith... (continued)
THE WAY OF THINGS BY KEITH SUTHERLAND.
"What's in the envelope?" I asked, my chin resting safely on my hands. Father put the cigarette in his mouth and used his free hand to inspect the sealed white envelope... (continued)
SPRING 2007 - THE VAMPIRE FICTION ISSUE (#17)
BABY LAMB BY ANNA SYKORA.
Driving up to the rickety mansion, perched on a bluff by itself overlooking the Hudson, I saw shingles were missing, a shutter hung crooked, and even the weathervane stood askew... (continued)
BLOOD DRIVE BY SPENCER WENDLETON.
Blood banks were Jake Clarke’s extra source of income. One percent of the population carried type AB negative blood, and he harbored the rich commodity in his veins..." (continued)
ECHOES IN THE DARK BY DAVID MCBRIDE.
I love her like no one I’ve ever known before. That’s why I stood there in the checkout line of that little convenience store: to prove that I would do anything for her... (continued)
THE HIGHWAYMAN BY LAURA BICKLE.
There had always been monsters in the woods. Wolves glided, thin and supple, through the spaces between trees. Voices of banshee barely unsettled leaves on the ground... (continued)
MOONLIGHT ENCOUNTER BY CATHERINE BANCROFT.
There weren’t many of her kind left in the world. Many had been killed throughout the centuries, slaughtered in their daylight sleep by the ignorant. Butchered for what they were rather than what they did... (continued)
NEW BLOOD BY BOB STROTHER.
Eastern Hungary, 1754: Janos trailed a fingertip along Catalyn’s delicate chin, down her neck to the small hollow at its base. She shivered in anticipation... (continued)
ON SABLE WINGS BY LIBBY FAUCETTE.
Banished. For Maree, it was a lesson in abandonment and humiliation. For her brother the Prince, banishment was a lark... (continued)
THE VAMPIRE HUNTER bY DANIEL J. WIEHN.
Thomas sat quietly, alone in a chamber far below the streets of Vatican City. He had been traveling for weeks and hadn’t slept for the better part of the last two days... (continued)
THE WAKING OF BREE BY CATHERINE FIELD.
Six full moons had set in the sky, along with an over abundance of blazing rounds from the sun, and Bree remained a motionless statue of what she once was... (continued)
WINTER 2007 - THE BIG NEW YEAR FICTION ISSUE (#16)
ALL IN GOOD TIME BY DAVID SEBEK.
"Come on, show me who yo' daddy is. Come on. Come on. That's right! Who's yo' daddy? That's right! That's right! I'm yo' daddy. I'm yo' daddy..." (continued)
DOUBLE TROUBLE BY MICHAEL BARBER.
It was on a Monday morning that she first appeared to him as if in a dream: rising up out of the subterranean gloom below Grand Central Station, the pearl gleam of her hair moving swiftly through dim and changing shapes... (continued)
JEREMY BY ELISABETH HEGMANN.
It’s true that after Jeremy died I hadn’t expected to see him again, yet I wasn’t altogether surprised when he showed up at the Woods’ party the day after his family had buried him... (continued)
MERCURY BONES BY NAOMI CLARK.
Vaughn glanced at the girl who'd appeared on the barstool next to his. She looked too young, too pretty and too clean to be here. The Fox Pelt catered to truckers, hunters and drunks... (continued)
MY BROTHER'S KEEPER BY T. G. SHEPPARD.
I thought it was all over, the long litany of petty sins, so I had removed my stole and was pressing my lips to the little, golden cross when I heard the door to the other chamber click open... (continued)
OCCUPIED BY TREVOR MORRISON.
Damn hideabed weighed a ton. An ordeal just getting it to the front door, made no easier by Phil hollering contradictory commands every few seconds like a drunk sergeant... (continued)
THE SATIN BOX by THERESA PERROTTA.
Finally, finally, a funeral that Angela can't dominate because she's the one in the casket. I know that sounds terrible... (continued)
SIN AND SORROW BY JOHN MEANY.
No, I guess I wasn't the type of child you could easily talk to. I was shy and I didn't really trust many people, especially adults. So when she first started coming around back in 1998-I didn't really trust her either... (continued)
SNAPSHOT BY KYLE LANG.
Bald tires screamed on ancient pavement. Rock music roared at an ear-bleeding volume, rendering it nonsensical. A rusty yellow sign reading "Englebrooke Road" hung crooked and flashed by as we tore through in Charlie's pickup.... (continued)
TWINS BY JOSEPH SALLAZZO.
Jason wakes to the sound of thunder, surprised that he had slept at all. His eyes are hot and gritty. A dull, meaty headache throbs deep in the center of his brain... (continued)
FALL 2006 - FANTASY, SF & HORROR (#15)
THE CONQUEROR WORM BY JOHNATHON BURCHETT.
The ladies bestirred themselves just before sunset and made ready to go the bazaar. They wore their finest nothings and were the absolute center of attention... (continued)
THE DARKROOM BY RUSSELL H. KRAUSS.
Stan Leever and his fiancée Cassie Walker held hands as they strolled down the center promenade of the Hastings Summer Carnival, cotton candy cones swinging in their free hands... (continued)
THE DEATH OF INNOCENCE BY STEFINE K. PITZER.
Like a lover’s caress the rhythm swayed her body, stirred her passion beneath the snug, black leather. She thrilled and rocked to the throbbing beat, letting it burn through her lithe body and heated soul... (continued)
THE GATHERING BY SARAH TURNBULL.
"You’ve received a letter in the mail," said my fiancée, her soft voice almost hesitant. She handed me the card, staring at the seal that bound it... (continued)
NIGHTWRAITH CREATOR BY DONNA MARIE ROBB.
Lord Randyll’s palace was so enormous that it seemed to be a world itself. Even though she had lived here for nearly a year, Arin still continued to discover new chambers... (continued)
THE SIGHT BY KATHRYN THROCKMORTON.
Her slippered feet whispered across the stone tiles, an endless procession of gray slabs radiating a dank, merciless chill. It seeped into the pads of her toes and she shivered beneath her cloak... (continued)
SINISTER BY WALKER M. HUGHES.
I found Gina and Bone right where I guessed they would be, lying head to toe on the roll-along conveyor near the loading dock of the abandoned Nu-Fizz plant... (continued)
THE TRACKWALKERS BY JEREMY K. BROWN.
"Alright ladies," the foreman growled through clenched teeth. "They ain't paying us by the hour. Move it!"... (continued)
WHY MARILYN MONROE CRIED BY STEPHEN MARKLEY.
The skin surrounding the boil seemed to pulse with a red, inflamed heat; it was hard to the touch, like a disc of bone lay between the skin and muscle of the calf... (continued)
WOMAN'S WORK BY D'ARCY ANN PRYCIAK.
Her slippered feet whispered across the stone tiles, an endless procession of gray slabs radiating a dank, merciless chill. It seeped into the pads of her toes and she shivered beneath her cloak... (continued)
SUMMER 2006 - TALES FROM THE DARK SIDE (#14)
THE BODY HUNT. POETRY BY ERIN NICOLE COCHRAN.
DEAR KATE BY THANE BENSON.
Dear Kate: I’ve been sitting here at the kitchen table with a bottle of bourbon starring at this piece of paper trying to get up the courage to write something... (continued)
EL ESCORIAL BY DANIEL YAZLOVITSKY.
My friend and I who I have not seen for some time were sitting at an upscale café in downtown Madrid... (continued)
GHOST. POETRY BY STEPHANIE NOLASCO.
LOVE, OBSESSION, AND THE DEEP-FREEZE BY GABRIEL BEYERS.
Sandy Higgins stood in her kitchen, wearing her long red robe, and a very large smile. She went to the small window above the sink, pulled up the blinds... (continued)
PURGATORY BY KURT MACPHEARSON AND RICK YENNIK.
The limp rubber tube dangled from the IV bag like a dead snake. "Excuse me, Dr. Bauer," said Nurse Johnston, "but have you seen Mr. Green?"... (continued)
SHADOWS BY RUSSELL H. KRAUSS.
Shadows have lives of their own. That's a mind busting concept, isn't it? Ridiculous, too... (continued)
SHELTER BY JENNIFER BOSWORTH.
Will Alexander awoke shivering and pulled the blankets to his chin. He glanced at the clock... (continued)
THE SOLDIER BY MANUEL RAMOS MONTES (TRANSLATED BY TOSHIYA KAMEI).
The night air is heavy, damp, almost liquid. Despite the enveloping warmth, Leiojan wears a long trench coat... (continued)
A TALE OF HELL BY PHILLIP SLATTERY.
The last face Jack saw was the executioner’s as he slid the needle into Jack’s arm. "I didn’t mean to kill him," said Jack... (continued)
THE WINDOOR BY JACK DAWE.
Luke Farrell’s cough erupted again, like a string of firecrackers popping. Zinnia Slocum seized the steering wheel of the Model A... (continued)
SPRING 2006 - THE VAMPIRE FICTION ISSUE (#13)
THE ASSISTANT: AN AMERICAN GOTHIC BY SHAUN CARNEY.
Strings of garlic lined the door and lintel in the fortress by the sea. Scattered across the walls were eight-penny nails, which held a variety of implements van der Haas had always heard would ward off evil... (continued)
BEAUTIFUL DEAD GIRL BY ROBERT PALMER.
The first time I saw her she was dead in an alley. In that one bitterly sweet moment I fell in love... (continued)
THE BUG BY JUSTIN JACOBSON.
It started with the sniffles. Rook over in Customer Service came in one day sniffling like a dog on a couch stuffed with bacon. He must have caught it off one of those young parents... (continued)
CONFUSION BY MARK C. BULLOCK.
The spot on Mike's neck itched perpetually today. It was getting worse. The two tiny teeth marks were inflamed and oozing a white substance that didn't quite resemble pus... (continued)
CRIMSONS BY NICK MARRANZINO.
Life is much like a butterfly. It flutters in and out of your being, your realm, and if you possess enough luck to capture it and hold it, for even only a moment, you were meant to discover its beauty... (continued)
EMMA BY JENNIFER WISS.
Cries of King Archer’s death spread forthwith through his empire. His throat slit by an unknown assailant as he slept with his army in the fields of battle... (continued)
LOVE'S A PALE ASSASSIN BY JACK DAWE.
Sweet William: Your letter, with its recollections of the Aulde Lang Syne, was like a breath of springtime... (continued)
NEEDS OF THE MANY BY RHIANNON HELD.
I waited, staring out of the anteroom window, my back to the door of the mayor’s office. The window was barred, of course... (continued)
QUALITY OF MERCY A VIGNETTE BY DAVID SIEGEL BERNSTEIN.
A TASTE OF TRUTH BY KURT MACPHEARSON AND RICK YENNIK.
The first time I heard those words they chilled me to the core like a dive into Lake Superior in February... (continued)
THE VAMPIRE IN THE SITTING ROOM BY HEATHER ALBANO.
She dreamed over and over of that snowy evening. She was again in the sheltered hollow, watching, as Quincey and her Jonathan fought their way through the gypsies to reach His coffin... (continued)
WINTER 2006 - THE BIG NEW YEAR FICTION ISSUE (#12)
CURSED MOON BY JUDE CHAO.
The demons had returned, and we came too late to save the child. A black cloud of flies buzzed around him; death's rot poisoned the air... (continued)
DELETE BY EDWARD RODOSEK.
Anthony Bing had worked at Omnitest Inc. for years. The entire company was engaged in a huge test program of the future interstellar spaceship IS–1... (continued)
ESCAPE BY DONNA MARIE ROBB.
"Why don't you fight this, Elishen?" Blinking away the hot tears that blurred her vision, Trilby glared up at her friend. "The sorcerer race controls us because they think they can... (continued)
THE GIRL WHO LOVED SHOOTING STARS BY KEVIN GRUZEWSKI.
I brought a dark bottle to my mouth just about the time my world started spinning. Around me a prominent bass rhythm blared as several people from my past danced in the fashionable living room... (continued)
LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION BY J. DAMIEN HOOD.
"Are you sure he tests positive?" Mike asked. "Yeah, Wendy’s a Bio major and she ran it herself. Hell, he’s only got a couple of days left"... (continued)
LEVIATHAN'S FISHHOOK BY ARIEL JAMES.
For me there are no "good old days." I don’t look over my shoulder much as a rule. Once you’ve stared a troll or harpy in the eye--much less a dragon--memories are like old debts, best forgotten... (continued)
THE NOTIFICATION BY JOSEPH SOLLAZZO. They were only the second and third dead people Miller had ever seen. The first had been his grandmother, who had died when Miller was eight years old... (continued)
THE OILER BY KIP TOBIN.
By the third week into his stay, he would use olive oil with anything. It began innocently enough; it always does. Even before he moved there, he loved olives... (continued)
THE PATIENCE FACTOR BY RICK MCQUISTON.
Everett Stones was a patient man. He wore the virtue like a coat, immersing himself in it, using it as a tool to deal with life’s unexpected and inevitable twists and turns... (continued)
PREMONITIONS OF DOOM BY REBECCA KANE.
"Kara, guess what?" My best friend Stephanie ignored the library’s code of silence as she rushed towards me. "What?" I was curious. Did she score another bargain at the mall?... (continued)
RETURN TO BRIGADOON BY Russ Walker.
After the old man introduced himself as Jeff Douglas, he sat down, placed a battered briefcase on the floor next to him, and asked Jake Flanagan a question. "Have you ever seen Brigadoon?"... (continued)
FALL 2005 - APPEARANCES CAN BE DECEIVING (#11)
3 AM BY LANA GJOVIG.
I hate people. When I say that, I usually get a barrage of questions which makes me retract the statement when in polite company. So, I don't say it out loud anymore. I just say it in my head, where no one else can hear and judge... (continued)
ALL'S WELL BY ADAM BURNETT.
As I made my way down the lane leading to the Doc’s home I immediately sensed something different about it. There was something unsettling in the way the house sat so quiet... (continued)
THE AMATEUR BY AMY SILLUP-WAGNER.
Way back when Theresa Evans was a skinny, scabby-kneed little girl with a penchant for playing hopscotch and a slight, rather endearing stutter, she already knew exactly what she was going to be when she grew up... (continued)
MAMA'S BOY BY CAROL STOFFEL.
Ten-year-old Bobby Beaujolais held the screened door open wide so his daddy’s giant Cajun cousin could come down the back steps. Jean LaPierre, who had just delivered a block of ice for the icebox, nodded at the boy... (continued)
THE MIRROR A VIGNETTE BY MEL WALDMAN.
THE MOONCALF BY MATTHEW LEE BAIN.
There were three that came from the farmhouse, the last night of every month, to tend it. They made their way out of the yard, past the pens and coops, their outlines lit by the flames of the burn barrel... (continued)
MURDER IN A STUPOR BY REBECCA KANE.
Jessica leaned out the driver’s side window, her flashlight illuminating my way. "Hurry up!" she whispered vehemently. I crept up onto the front step, grabbed the jack-o’-lantern and cradled it in my arms as I made a mad dash towards the car... (continued)
THE RENTAL HOUSE BY LAURIE STEVENS.
The vacation was Dad’s fault. I didn’t want to go to Kauai the summer I was sixteen; I wanted to go on weekend trips to Palm Springs with my high school friends... (continued)
SEPARATE WAYS, ORBIT-BOUND and WRITING FREE-VERSE AT NIGHT IN PRISON. POETRY BY BRYON D. HOWELL.
THE UNICORN THIEF BY ASHLEY BARNARD.
From a distance it appeared that the snow had acquired a life of its own and was moving, so white and pure was the creature approaching them. As it drew closer, features that separated it from its surroundings began to take shape... (continued)
SUMMER 2005 - TALES OF THE SUPERNATURAL (#10)
THE BODACH BY RUSTY CLAYTON.
The police are coming to interview me again. I don’t know what to tell them. I tried to talk to Maggie, but she’s been out and won’t return my calls. It’s like she disappeared.... (continued)
EXORCISM OF MY HUSBAND BY DORIS DHILLON.
On March 6, 1962, while relaxing in the living room of our house at 4, Pine Drive, Cleveland, Ohio, I asked my husband, Rughby who had emigrated from India in 1957, "Do you believe in ghosts?"... (continued)
THE FATAL KISS BY AARON RAYBURN.
Lightning stabbed aimlessly at the earth as Victor McCullough peered outside his huge, bay window--the only window in the entire house... (continued)
HARVEY AND ETHEL BY BRIAN HOLTZ.
Nine-year-old Arkansas boy missing for three days The voice interrupted Harvey’s thoughts, loudly and abruptly, as it did every day... (continued)
MISSING THE BUS BY KREVENCY FROGG.
A fly was walking around on my face. I could feel its tiny legs playing on my nerves as it crawled from my lip to the corner of my eye. That fly was the only thing that got me moving.... (continued)
THE PENNY LADY BY C. ALLEN REED.
The only time Gary Pardy ever dipped into his beer money was to buy his son, Gary Jr., a few pieces of candy at The Penny Lady’s store... (continued)
SESTINA FOR NEW SKIN. POETRY BY KERI NEWMAN.
THERE BE WOLVES BY DEBORAH MAYHEW.
"There be wolves there little girl, mind yourself near the woods." I paused in the doorway. "Yes grandfather." "Remember, they run in packs. Stay near the edge or you’ll be gobbled alive"... (continued)
VACANCY BY J. M. ANDERSON.
The fog was crawling in when they heard the scream. It wavered for a few seconds then become echoes, then became silence. Krista checked her watch. 9:45. She turned to David. "Did you get that?"... (continued)
WOLFSHEIM BY PHILLIP SLATTERY.
As he stood in the growing twilight with cold rain dripping from the brim of his hat, Drake was nervous about continuing into the Alpine village of Wolfsheim... (continued)
SPRING 2005 - THE VAMPIRE FICTION ISSUE (#9)
BRACED FOR THE BITE BY JEFF KOZZI.
As the waitress brought the drinks, a tropical rum mix for her and a Bloody Mary for him, Jennifer began to relax. She'd hesitated when this new neighbor had asked her out... (continued)
THE DRAINING GAME OF DATING BY ERIC BONHOLTZER.
"I just can't believe this view." She said it with that sultry smirk, thrown so casually over one milky shoulder, that he'd found so alluring all night... (continued)
ETERNAL ECHOES BY JENNIFER WISS.
Hunter bowed his head and released a breath of frustration. He could feel the residue of rage powerful enough to have blown the room apart... (continued)
FATHER BARSTOW CAN'T RUN FOREVER BY DAVID CONNOR.
Despite the years of dedicated exercise and conditioning, Father William Barstow discovered that walking, actually more like hiking, completely stressed out his body... (continued)
FRIENDS OF DRACULA BY THOMAS J. MISURACA.
I arrived at my parents' house shortly after sunset. Hesitation overcame me as I motioned to knock on the door. After my last visit, I was unsure what type of welcome I would receive... (continued)
REVENANT JUSTICE BY ROSEANNE GARRETT.
The woman pressed her foot against the man's throat, and pinned him against the dew-covered ground. His arms flailed and ripped at the wet grass... (continued)
SCENT OF BLOOD BY GARY WILBANKS.
Julius Toleman stepped through the heavy glass doors into the front lobby and gave his secretary a friendly but tight-lipped smile. He removed his hat as the door clicked shut behind him... (continued)
TEMPTATION. POETRY BY P. J. BITTINGER.
VAMPIRE HUNTER KEVIN BY MICHAEL KANUCKEL.
Industrial music pounded the young crowd filling the abandoned warehouse. A light show filtered through smoke from a dry ice and fan system... (continued)
THE VAMPIRE WHO SOLD HOUSES BY MICHAEL WARD.
Being a realtor is an excellent cover if you're a vampire. I'm good at both my jobs. I have been feeling a little hungry for a day or two... (continued)
WINTER 2005 - THE BIG NEW YEAR FICTION ISSUE (#8)
BURNING LEAVES BY MICHAEL HOYT.
"The people call him God. Not President, not Papa, not The Supreme Leader. Just God." Girbeau yelled over the noise of the propellers. "It's rumored that he's a cannibal." (continued)
A CROSS TO BEAR BY G. ALLEN WILBANKS.
Pastor David Aramis settled himself into his chair behind the battered oak desk in his tiny office. He glanced at his watch briefly and sighed with tired contentment. 11:24 PM. David smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the brief reprieve from his daily duties. (continued)
EVERYONE'S AN ARTIST BY MIKE ROBINSON.
During the break-in, I fell and my leg screamed with pain. I'm not entirely sure what I did to it (thankfully it wasn't broken, as I could still maneuver), but during the climb through the gallery window I had somehow miscalculated in the dark. (continued)
HARVEST OF BONE BY DENNIS SJOLIE.
Fingers of late afternoon sunlight stretch through the dust and press down the startled ghosts lingering near the freshly killed when War-In-Her-Breast and I journey into the coulee. (continued)
THE RED DOG BY DON MEERS.
"Your position is hopeless," said Mrs. Nott, the head of the bureau. "You admit you smoke cigarettes in bed. The articles of the Child's Safety Act specifically outline the new rules, Mrs. Marten." (continued)
SONG OF THE WINTER WALKER BY JAMES STEIMLE.
The old Irishman pushed the tavern door in and fell to the floor. By the time the others closed the portal and dragged him to his feet, the blizzard outside had painted a white outline of his body on the ground and the shape didn't melt away all evening. (continued)
SUICIDE JIM VS. THE KARAOKE KILLER BY BRYAN REILLY.
An ominous grin smoothed his sly advance. He waded through a tall shadow and showed his glistening teeth to the moon. This was the moment he enjoyed most; when his haunted appetite smelled satisfaction, the moment his body transformed. (continued)
A TOWN FULL OF HOLES BY GABRIEL BEYERS.
Nobody liked to talk about it. The strain of trying to remember seemed to bring an instant weariness. There were nightmares for awhile. Fragmented images that vanished with the rising sun, leaving only a thin residue of alarm. (continued)
FALL 2004 - A BIZARRE TWIST OF FATE (#7)
BORN STOUTS BY JENNIFER COX.
Fletcher and Nevada walked away from their hardscrabble house. It sprouted like a gray mushroom on Whiskey Creek's oldest corner. It had a sagging shingle roof, moss crept up its walls, and stunted trees scratched at the windowpanes with their bony fingers... (continued)
DALE'S NIGHT BY RYAN POTTER.
Dale Marion never felt comfortable around other staff members. Seemed they all had spouses, kids, new homes, and lakefront cabins north of West Branch. Dale had none of that and never wanted it. He wanted something different, something to replace the boredom of it all... (continued)
HALF-EMPTY BY KRISTA LESTER.
Even he didn't know why he said it. He was only partially aware that his voice kept repeating the same thing to her in a slow, drunken drawl: "You never do anything spontaneously..." (continued)
NO WITNESSES BY SEAN BARON.
Frank Marshall opened the door. Standing on his front porch were two crisp young men in their early twenties, each wearing nearly identical black suits, each wearing nearly identical expressions on their faces... (continued)
TRANSPARENT BY C. ALLEN REED.
Dana and I were pushing our carts of garbage to the hole in the wall when she introduced me to the bread man. He was arranging trays of bread on a tall metal rack as we passed by... (continued)
SUMMER 2004 - GHOST STORIES (#6)
THE GHOULS OF CHARON BY LAWRENCE R. DAGSTINE.
"Ready for the big show?" Captain Aramis was standing beside a power winch that fed cold fusion through a generator extending out the side of the rocket’s hull and down into the strange icy mists surrounding the chunk of ice better known as Charon... (continued)
SARAH SMOKES MARLBOROS BY KATHERINE M. SIEBENALER.
When I was a good girl I had blond hair and white knee socks and a secret taste for Marlboro Lights. I attended an all-girls Catholic high school of enough notoriety in town that our navy blue and gold uniforms were instantly recognizable and the even modestly-devout would go out of their way to stop us on the street... (continued)
TO KEEP SOMETHING IN BY RICK MCQUISTON.
Dylan sat quietly in the rear seat of his father’s Oldsmobile. The car hummed a monotonous drone as an endless sea of corn stalks, trees and unevenly dispersed foliage flew past the windows. It was another trip to Grandpa’s cottage... (continued)
VENGEANCE FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE. POETRY BY JOHN MEANY.
THE WATERGHOST BY DONNA MARIE ROBB.
"Why must you always be so serious, sister?" Leyrra asked Faylith in her annoyingly cheerful manner. They, along with some of the other students at the Guild House, were helping the kitchen women peel tubers, stuff mushrooms and gut fish in preparation for tonight’s feast... (continued)
SPRING 2004 - VAMPIRE FICTION ISSUE (#5)
IN BLACK LEATHER BY TIM SCOTT.
She had the body to pull it off. Most females over the age of eighteen would have looked slightly (or more) ridiculous in a look that owed so much to Goth. Wisely, she did not go for the whole Goth Girl Image. She wore no makeup to make her look a whiter shade of pale... (continued)
TEARS SHE CRIED BY JENNIFER HETTENBACH.
"You stupid bitch!" Martin shouted as he struck Susan’s tear stained face with his balled fist. He watched with a smile as she fell against the dining room table like a child’s forsaken toy. The contents of an untouched dinner scattered to the floor with a crash of broken dishes... (continued)
WEDDINGS... BY JASON ARBOGAST.
As far as Jim was concerned, family was no big deal. To paraphrase the saying, families were like assholes: everyone had one. He knew his existed, he knew he came from one, he even sort of knew where they lived, but that was about the extent of it... (continued)
WINTER 2004 (#4)
BAGS OF GARBAGE BY CAROL MICHAELS.
They lie in the shadows of the early dawn, like giant lumps of coal, in various shapes and sizes. Innocent enough, they are accepted as part of the scenery, silently blending into the landscape. It is landscape that is ever-changing and unpredictable... (continued)
ECHO SIGH. POETRY BY JOSEPH GRIFFIN.
LOGICAL IMPOSSIBILITY BY GERRY DOYLE.
John Ortega found that his surroundings had begun to swallow his thoughts. The details' familiarity did nothing to diminish how fascinating they were in comparison to the work piled in front of him. His office reminded him of his dorm room from his first two years at Columbia... (continued)
FALL 2003 (#3)
THE HIT BY JJ COLLINS.
Max Kimball wanted to die. He put a gun in his mouth, closed his lips around the solid barrel, probed the dark hollow with his tongue and clicked the trigger...nothing. The gun had a single bullet in the chamber, but he didn’t have the nerve to spin it a second time and try again... (continued)
SUMMER 2003 (#2)
HARBINGER BY JJ COLLINS.
All my life I’ve had dreams that revealed things to me before they happened. So when I received the call from the HR department of Interlink Communications telling me I got the job, I wasn’t surprised... (continued)
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