Damned Words 44

An all new photo flash collection from Pen of the Damned!

Pen of the Damned

Five-fingered Footprints
Lee Andrew Forman

Blood draws my story on the agate floor. Fresh ink covers dried layers with the repetition of time. My five-fingered footprints scatter across my canvas, for within the cold box there is no room to stand. My freedom, nothing more than an arm’s length in any direction. Slight rumbles shiver the enclosure; new paint will be added soon. I’ve never seen the thing that keeps me here. Only felt its scathing, intimate touch on my naked flesh. The floor tells me it will soon be time. My body trembles as I await the inevitable approach of the stippler.


Witness
Nina D’Arcangela

As he adjusted the range, the minute clicks were barely distinguishable from the constant drone. I could see the look of shock and something akin to terror on his face as he stepped back and stared at me as if to question his own…

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The Bury Box Giveaway! #GETBURIED

And so it begins!

On October 13th, thirteen lucky winners will be announced to win a signed copy of my latest book, The Bury Box, and a bunch of awesome swag to go with it! Five of those winners will receive an even more awesome bundle of stuff, including their very own Bury Box!

I’ve made it quick and easy to enter. All you have to do is comment #GETBURIED on any contest or book related post, on any platform, whether it be this blog, Facebook, Instagram, or YouTube. If you can, tag me @leeandrewforman to make sure I see your entry, but I’ll be looking out for them just in case!

If you tag a friend and they enter the contest as well using #GETBURIED, you’ll get an additional entry! Boom! Double your chances of winning!

If you haven’t seen the launch video for the contest, check it out HERE.

Good luck to you all! There will be more info, some sneak peaks at the super cool prizes, and more videos, so check back for more!

OPEN Call for SUBMISSIONS: The Sirens Call – issue 52 Death of the Year/December 2020 | #Horror #DarkFiction #eZine #OpenCall #Reprints #fiction #stories #flash #poetry @Sirens_Call

OPEN SUBMISSIONS — The Sirens Call eZine — Issue 52

The Sirens Song

Promo_Cover_for_Ezine

Death of the Year/December 2020

As is our custom, we are ending 2020 with our Death of the Year issue. We’re calling for pieces that pay tribute to the end of life in the most heinous ways possible. You may choose to honor death in dark fashion by horrifying with it, respecting it, or fighting it to the bitter end; and we do mean the bitter end as your piece should contain an unnatural death, mortal or otherwise.

We are NOT looking for acts of crime or mundane content. So please, no murdered wives who were planning to file for divorce, or pleasant stories of grandma passing in her sleep – they will be declined.

We’ll be accepting short stories, flash fiction, drabbles, and poetry that fit the theme within the horror/dark fiction genre. We welcome reprints as long as you hold the copyright to the piece.

Your piece can…

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Insemination

My latest flash fiction is up on Pen of the Damned! ‘Insemination’

Pen of the Damned

Nicolette rubbed her hands along her naked belly and knew her barren insides held no place for new souls. Her eyes peered into the mirror. Not to view her meager shell, but to converse with the only soul her body would hold: her own. There existed a question she must both ask and answer. Something dubious and unknown. Possibly dangerous. The doctor who gave her the news explained there was a way, though she may not like it.

As time fell short she realized the debate was only an illusion. Only one choice existed. She’d do what her doctor suggested. Nicolette never believed in alternative medicine, but her want for motherhood not only sent her heart to dark places, but her body as well.

The crumpled address in her pocket led her to an old brick structure, what might have been a factory back when they were a thriving industry…

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I Love Every Part of You

Pen of the Damned

It begins, on a rainy Sunday two days after Olivia’s  funeral, with her left ring finger.

Melanie wakes to a weird little pressure under her ribs and sits up and there it is: nestled into a fold of the sheet, its magenta acrylic nail lying discarded to one side. Melanie picks it up with bile hiking acidly up the back of her throat, sees the smoothness at the base, and can’t help noticing that the rings are still snug. The gap between her fingers is silky and flawless, the skin above the barren knuckle dimples and is only slightly paler than the rest.

She should worry. A part of her knows it. But Melanie is still too numb from Olivia’s sudden passing—you should be grateful, her aunt had said at the graveside, that the cancer worked so fast and she wasn’t in too much pain—to regard it…

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World Without End

World Without End by RJ Meldrum

Pen of the Damned

The wind blew fallen leaves along the street. Grey, leaden clouds lay low in the sky. Phil walked along the row of terraced houses in the same direction as the leaves, travelling just as aimlessly. It was two p.m., the dead time of the afternoon when people had finished lunch but before the kids arrived home from school. The street he walked on was completely empty.

He reached a junction with the main road and saw there was a park on the opposite side. He might as well waste time in there rather than wandering the empty, depressing roads. Phil could see the local Council had recently tried to make improvements in the park; the railings were all freshly painted, the small tea-shop was actually open, the grass was freshly cut, and the beds and pond well-kept. He felt cheered at the sight. It would have been easy to let…

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Drop Off

Drop Off, a zombie tale by author Mark Steinwachs, on Pen of the Damned.

Pen of the Damned

Janice turned the wheel hard. Tires squealed over Freddy Mercury’s soaring vocals from the car stereo as the vehicle shuddered down a two-lane road leading into suburbia.

“I’m on Crescent. There’s a small horde behind me, but I should be safely back to you guys before they catch up,” Janice said.

Her voice, mixed with Queen, sounded in Tim’s earbuds. Tim stood on the balcony of their apartment with their fifteen-year-old son, Steven. Both of them scanned the area for zombies as the summer sun beat down, intensifying the stench of rotted flesh. “You’re clear all the way to the drop-off. Then we’ll cover you the rest of the way to us. Can you turn off that music? It’s not—”

“It’s the only time I get to listen to anything,” Janice interrupted her husband. “Do you really think it’s any more likely to draw out our friends than a car…

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OPEN SUBMISSIONS: The Sirens Call – issue 51 Halloween/Fall 2020| #Horror #eZine #OpenCall #Reprints Welcome #fiction #stories #poetry @Sirens_Call

The Sirens Call eZine is open for submissions!

The Sirens Song

Promo_Cover_for_Ezine

Halloween/Fall 2020

For the 51st issue of The Sirens Call eZine, we’re looking for short stories, flash fiction, drabbles, and poetry of horror or dark fiction that are well crafted, and since this issue publishes in October – feel free to slam home a Halloween theme!

We have a few taboos listed below, other than that, as long as you write a quality piece intended for an adults audience, we’d be happy to consider it.

We also welcome reprints as long as you hold the copyright, however, no attribution is offered though you are welcome to include a credit to the original publisher in your bio.

Your piece can be scary, sullen, emotive, freaky, elegant, bizarre, have a dark-humor twist to it, or be flat out creepy as hell!

The basic rules:

  • Write the piece well.
  • It must be primarily horror/dark fiction oriented
  • Don’t break our set-in-stone taboos –…

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This Broken Love Story

This Broken Love Story by Mercedes M. Yardley, on Pen of the Damned

Pen of the Damned

She loves him in pieces, in separate parts.  A sliver of this, a morsel of that.  He is tasty and delicious and she savors him bit by bit by bit.  There could always be enough to go around, maybe.  If she is careful.  If she only sups a little at a time, just enough to whet her taste.  If she keeps her hunger sharp enough to appreciate, but never to devour whole.  She keeps a spare collarbone in her back pocket.  She warms her hands on it, nibbles it delicately with sharp teeth.  When the desire becomes too strong, she puts it away again.  Anything else would be untoward.  Anything else would be far too terrifying.

He doesn’t nibble, or take dainty sips, or deny himself.  Anything.  He takes mouthfuls of bone, of meat, of soul.  When you’re starving, it’s difficult to hold back. When the gas tank or stomach…

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Damned Words 43

10 pieces of flash fiction inspired by this photo, by the authors of Pen of the Damned!

Pen of the Damned

Skeleton_Grin_resizedFate
Nina D’Arcangela

Jabba-jaw, raking claw, with haste to the frenzy you did make.
The fray engaged, you are quick to slay any beast brought to slaughter.
Fierce clashing, teeth snapping, bones split beneath hammering rage.
Yet fleet of feet, it has you beat, as it fells your carcass to ground.
The battle fought, fury spent naught; your grin the jester’s call.
With placid lips and eager sips, it sups where you did fall.


The Bones of Her Earth
Charles Gramlich

Her name at ten was Melody. She lived amid the avocado green woods on Millstone Mountain in Arkansas, near a town called Liberty. Melody had hair like a thicket of weeds and eyes no one ever looked into. She had thoughts no one offered a copper penny for, and all her words she kept in her mouth so they couldn’t be slapped away by Mama.

Her name at twelve…

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