Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Nina D’Arcangela @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

Spreading the Writer's Word

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Wrong Side of the Tracks
byNina D’Arcangela

Wrong side of the tracks, my ass. As far as I’m concerned, any side of the tracks I’m on is the right side, and I’ll see to it that I make it so. What happened to Frank? It’s the funniest thing…one minute he was throwing me out on my butt, then haranguing me for packing my bags, then telling me I was a useless piece of trash that was lucky to have him – he was driving me nuts. I don’t know what made me do it, but I took that kaboodle and slammed him up-side the head so hard, he spun in a circle before dropping to his knees, you know, like one of them cartoon characters they show before the pictures. Something about seeing him on his knees infuriated me, but it also made…

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Dr. Smiles

Pen of the Damned

A quiet neighbourhood like any other, with rows of unchanging houses tucked away from the main bustle of the city. The sound of squeaking bicycle wheels and laughing children echoed along streets that held the slight scent of oatmeal cookies and apple pie. The neighbours threw weekend barbeque parties and traded recipes, carpooled and arranged playdates for their children. A picture-perfect slice of suburban heaven.

At the end of a cul-de-sac, nestled back from the road, sat a small, nondescript house. Painted its uniform white with blue trim, boasting a quaint porch and a rocking chair, and a welcome mat by the front door. An older man lived there, retired from dentistry on the back side of fifty. Now he spent his time sipping tea in his porch chair, waving and grinning at the street’s residents.

His neighbours jokingly referred to him as Dr. Smiles.

The quietest of neighbours, polite…

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Pen of the Damned

She sat straight, legs crossed, palms filling with rising moonlight. Each in-breath had the cool chill of autumn night. Each out-breath had the warm hunger of her heart. Breathing in nightfall, breathing out hunger, she reminded herself that she was controlled by neither.

And yet, the moonlight had its plans.

The moon rose higher, and she felt her hunger rising to meet it. Her breath came faster now. New scents, new possibilities drifted on the night air, and she breathed them in, savored them through her sharpening senses. Her savoring turned to panting. As her breathing sped, swift and shallow, she found herself losing all count of in-breaths and out-breaths. Losing all sense of control. All sense of herself.

Her hunger howled within her, and as the last of her humanity slipped away, her limitations went too. She lost herself, but gained the night. She had no need for counting…

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