It was her eyes that drew him to her. They were odd looking and yellowish.
He whipped the dogs and the sled leaped ahead over the packed and frozen snow.
Fleet as the wind, she ran alongside, among the trees.
She turned, vanishing.
In the distance, the wolves were howling.
William Dart is just a retiree.
Apparently I murdered my twin sister in cold blood.
Since then, every moment torments me with all the agonizing anguish of a psychopathic mind, which sets me adrift in an emotionless world. Yet I feel no compunction. She’ll understand my chilling thirst for blood.
Soon she’ll turn. A bloodthirsty vampire.
Mohammad S. Babaei is a computer programmer who endeavors to discover his bipolar self through literature. Visit his blog on programming at babaei.net.
It’s not that bad, to start with. Then they turn on the lights.
The skin goes a nasty, fluorescent green colour, the teeth a mucky yellow.
Each shift lasts eight hours. The factory itself is running 24/7.
Each shift ends with a howl. Everyone joins in.
Full moons are holidays.
William Shaw is a student, poet and amateur journalist. He is slightly obsessed with the moon. You can find him on Tumblr at themadmanwithablog.tumblr.com.
The vampire stood dead still, just short of his old flame’s threshold.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked, glancing anxiously at the false dawn.
“No,” she said.
She didn’t wait to see him disintegrate on her doorstep, but went to the utility closet to get a broom.
John H. Dromey has a story in the anthology Chilling Horror Short Stories (Flame Tree Publishing, 2015).
Darla’s commute was awful: it took two hours to get from her downtown apartment to the wastelands, where she hunted the secret dragons.
Her friends thought she was a paralegal. They might ask uncomfortable questions if she moved to the suburbs, and it was already hard enough hiding the scars.