You noticed me?
Some notice their noon-dark shadows don’t move quite right. Others, when they stare into the gloom, see eyes looking back. I’ve been called a house settling, while others swear I live in darkness just beneath the bed.
But you’ve seen me outright.
We’ll have to fix that.
Solomon Knight is an avid reader and writer based out of Louisiana. He has been published by Silent Spark Press. Most days, he can be found daydreaming about grand adventures.
My friends mock me for constantly checking my reflection.
But they don’t know about the woman who gave me a hickey two nights ago. That my skin prickles in the sun, or that I cut myself while I was flossing this morning.
They don’t see that my reflection is fading.
Phil W. Bayles has lived in Paris and London, where he’s written everything from movie reviews to mattress adverts. These days he lives in Derbyshire with his wife, his daughter and his cat. His words have been published at 50 Word Stories and Twisted Ink.
A red thread is on the ground. You’re surrounded by the walls. Somewhere in this labyrinth there’s a monster hiding.
Suddenly there’s a sound – a step.
It’s just behind the angle.
You come out first.
That’s a young man with a shield in his hand.
He sees you – he screams.
Vera Podell is a Russian-born writer and photo artist. She writes in three languages which are English, Russian and German. Vera tends to experiment a lot with her writing style, primarily focusing on the themes of memory and how to forms our identity.
Making out in the dark woods never ends well. But kids still do it.
I watch them.
Sometimes they’re nervous. I like the nervous ones best. They’re easiest to scare.
Sometimes they laugh and say, “What if there’s something out there?”
And then I laugh and give them the answer.
Nissa Harlow lives in British Columbia, Canada where she dreams up strange stories and writes some of them down. She is the author of a number of novels and novellas, all embellished with a touch of the fantastic. You can find her online at nissaharlow.com.
Revenants streamed out of the TV.
Tom attempted to vault over the couch, but they fell upon him, tearing him to shreds.
As putrefying hands reached for her, Kelly stumbled over the coffee table, accidentally stepping on the remote.
The horde flickered into sitcom characters.
Everyone started laughing.
Except Tom.
Tim Boiteau is a Writers of the Future winner and Editor at Every Day Fiction. His third novel, The Nilwere, is slated to be published by Grendel Press in 2024-25. See more at timboiteau.wordpress.com.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
The slow barrage echoes down the empty hallway, bouncing off the battered lockers and the scuffed tile floor. Heavy footsteps clank closer; you huddle under a teacher’s desk, hoping, praying.
Metal glints at the doorframe; claws, long and spindly, bite into the soft wood.
Tick.
Tock.
Millie is an aspiring Australian author with far too many finished stories collecting dust on her harddrive, who is finally trying her hand at this whole being published thing.
Say his name three times (they said forbiddingly) and the boogeyman appears, manifesting your worst nightmares: snakes, spiders, failing French class, forgetting to clean your room, the blur of your father’s bony knuckles.
We tiptoed, mute, terrified of our own voices,
unaware that it was our silence that fed him.
Michelle Wilson’s words have appeared in Potato Soup Journal’s Best of 2021 Anthology, Rejection Letters, Maudlin House, Litro Magazine, The Drabble, 50-Word Stories, Literally Stories, Flash Fiction Magazine, and Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood, among others. Her story ‘Fish Brain’ has been nominated for a Best of the Net 2022 Award. She lives with her partner in Miami Beach, Florida.
Her bloody fingernails finally reach air. She digs herself out, emerging into the glorious star-studded night. She gasps. Delicious oxygen fills her desperate lungs. The breeze is divine on her filthy skin. The promised land. She is free.
“Demon!” the human bellows.
A wooden stake pierces her heart.
She weeps.
Angie Andriot is a sociologist, artist, and aspiring weaver of words.
When the girl turned into the deserted alley, his sadistic heart thrummed with anticipation. She was beautiful and innocent. Perfect for the taking.
Or so he thought.
She leapt on him like a feral animal, all teeth and claws. Humans are always so clueless, she thought. Perfect for the taking.
G.R. LeBlanc is a Canadian haiku poet and fiction writer who has always been fascinated by the otherworldly and unexplained. Learn more about her at sleekbio.com/grleblanc.
“There’s safety in things,” the therapist explains, noting mile-high clothing, bric-a-brac, and boxes. “They won’t abandon you like the husband who vanished eight years ago. You’re filling the void with objects that can’t love you.”
But he’s wrong. The thing in the basement corner loves me.
When I feed him.
Michelle Wilson’s words have appeared or are forthcoming in Potato Soup Journal’s Best of 2021 Anthology, Rejection Letters, Maudlin House, Litro Magazine, The Drabble, 50-Word Stories, Literally Stories, Flash Fiction Magazine, and Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood, among others. She lives in Miami Beach, Florida.