Tag: Horror fiction

‘The Ancestors,’ a Horror Story, Chapter Ten

“Oh, my God!” Hannah screamed. “Al! What the fuck are you doing?”

Al dropped the baseball bat on the floor. It bounced a few times, rattling by his feet.

He was shaking and weeping.

“Oh, God, Hannah,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t me who killed your brother. It was–“

“Sorry?” she yelled. “What do you mean, it wasn’t you? I just saw you kill my brother, you crazy bastard! Why?“

“It wasn’t me. It’s…the ancestors. Their spirits are taking control of our bodies.”

“What on Earth are you talking about, Al?”

“This is why…I didn’t want you to come here…and meet my family. They’re worse than crazy. They’re cursed…by the spirits of our ancestors.”

“None of this is making any sense, Al,” she sobbed. “Why did you just bash my brother’s brains in with that baseball bat? What did he do to you? Why did your family kill my mom and dad? What did they do to you?”

“When we moved…from China to here, my family decided…they didn’t want to pray…to the family ancestors anymore. I knew that would bring bad luck to us. I continued praying to them, but it wasn’t enough. The spirits of our ancestors have been plaguing us with bad luck for not praying to them anymore, but it always looks like it’s my fault. Only I pray to them, but I’m blamed for our problems. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.”

“Al, you’re trying to tell me that ‘spirits’ are why you helped your family murder my entire family?!“

“I killed my father, too…to stop him from killing your brother. I never stopped you from killing my mother, so you could save yourself.”

“And then you killed Doug yourself! Do you want a medal, or something?”

“Hannah, you don’t understand…the spirit of Mei, one of the family ancestors, took control of my body. She made me hit your brother with the bat. She killed him, not me.”

“You expect me to believe this nonsense?”

“When my mother tried to kill you, and she said, ‘Goodbye, Hannah,’ she spoke with a man’s voice, remember? Too low to be a woman’s voice. That’s because a man’s spirit, Meng’s, was controlling her body! The moans in the attic are also the voices of the spirits, luring you all up here. You gotta believe me, Hannah!”

“Oh, what does any of that prove, Al? Face the facts: your whole family is insane, including you. I’ve known lots of Chinese who were wonderfully nice people, and I thought you were one of them–the man I fell in love with was certainly one of them, but…” She looked down at the bodies of her family and resumed weeping. “Oh, my God!”

“The spirits tricked me into thinking that if…I gave them your family, they wouldn’t cause the two of us any bad luck, then…”

“There is no more ‘the two of us,’ Al.”

He wept louder. “Then I killed my father…to try to save your brother. The spirits saw that I broke my pact with them, and now they’re trying to ruin my life, to destroy our love! Mei came into me, and made me kill your brother. I’m so sorry, Hannah! I didn’t want any of this!”

“‘Sorry’ won’t fix this, Al. You and I are through.”

“Oh, no, NO!!! Hannah!” He was shaking and wincing.

“Bawling at me isn’t going to fix this either, Al. We shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

“No, you don’t understand. Mei…is coming into me…again. Go! Run! She’ll make me…kill you!”

He was fidgeting before her as if in pain.

All she saw was a crazy person.

He buckled to the floor, then reached for the bat.

“Run, Hannah! Get out…of the house!”

“Al, you need psychiatric help.”

In his pained voice, he said, “Mei will…” Then, with the bat in his hand, Mei hissed, “kill you!”

Hannah sneered at the creepy feminine voice coming out of his mouth.

With a crazed look in his eyes, and all of his teeth showing like bared fangs, Mei made him get up and raise the bat to his left, ready to crack it on Hannah’s head.

She screamed and ducked as Mei had him swing the bat from Hannah’s right to her left. The bat missed its mark, then she kicked him hard in the balls.

She ran for the pull-down attic stairs and got down to the third floor. Then she ran down the hall for the stairs to the second floor, but she heard two voices coming up from there.

“I’ll bet Al’s fucked this all up,” Freddie said to Emily as they were coming up from the stairs to the third floor.

“Without a doubt,” Emily said.

Hannah yelped, then ran back and found Mr. And Mrs. Dan’s bedroom. She looked around frantically for a place to hide as she could hear Freddie’s and Emily’s approaching steps, then she saw the bottom of the bed. She quickly slipped under it.

“Hannah,” Emily said with a smile as she and her brother reached their parents’ bedroom. “I know where she went.”

‘The Ancestors,’ a Horror Story, Chapter Nine

Hannah could no longer contain herself.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” she said, rising from her seat.

“What’s your problem now?” Freddie asked with another of his smug smirks.

“What’s my problem now?” she said, sneering at his attitude with incredulity. “I can’t believe this family of yours!”

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Dan said.

“Yes, I’m saying that without holding it back this time,” Hannah said, her face red, not with embarrassment from making the Dans lose face, but with anger. “Mrs. Dan, my entire family has been missing for the past…what, half-hour at least? Not even Al has returned! What is going on here? Since when is this even remotely how guests are treated?”

“Hanna, please, calm down,” Mrs. Dan said.

“Calm down? All my dad did was go to the upstairs bathroom! All my mom and brother did was go up to find out what happened to them. They should all be back by now! Why aren’t they?”

“I’m sure there’s a simple explanation for all of this,” Freddie said, then, with an unmistakeable tone of contempt, “Take it easy.”

“Don’t you tell me to take it easy, Mr. Brother-bully!” Hannah shouted. “You can’t even do a simple thing like treat Al with respect, and you expect me to be cool when my entire family and boyfriend have gone missing for no good reason? There’s a simple explanation for this? You’ll need an extraordinary explanation for all of this, which–if I get it, if I actually get it–will get an extraordinary apology from me. I don’t see any of my family coming back. I don’t see Emily, or your dad or your brother coming back. What secret are you hiding from us?” She glared at both of them.

Mrs. Dan was laughing nervously. “Let’s go upstairs together, my dear,” she said to Hannah as she rose from her seat.

Hannah frowned at her. “And it will be my turn to disappear, I suppose,” she hissed. “At least you won’t have anyone else to complain about your less-than-stellar hospitality, will you, Mrs. Dan? And I’ll finally know the truth…with a knife in my back, I suppose?”

Mrs. Dan laughed again. “I assure you, my dear, at my age, I lack the strength to harm you even if I wanted to. Let’s go up the stairs and find them.”

“Or is this some elaborate prank, and I’m going to find them all up in the attic or something, laughing and partying,” Hannah said with a scowl as she followed Mrs. Dan out of the living room.

You’ll find them all in the attic, all right, Freddie thought. But they won’t be doing anything but bleeding, as you soon will be, you crabby little bitch.

“Please don’t take it too personally if I stay behind you the whole way up, Mrs. Dan,” Hannah said coolly.

“As you wish, dear,” Mrs. Dan said, then thought, Not that staying behind me will do you any good, of course.

“Of course, you’re not the only one I need to worry about, as far as possibly getting a knife in my back is concerned.”

That’s right, Mrs. Dan thought as they reached the second floor. “Would you like to look around the rooms on this floor, my dear?”

“No, I wouldn’t. I’d like you to show me around, while I keep my eyes open for any…surprises.”

“Very well,” Mrs. Dan said with another giggle, then she opened the door to the nearest of the rooms. She went in first, then Hannah followed, her eyes darting around everywhere for possible attackers. Mrs. Dan turned on the light.

Hannah quickly scanned the room for her family, and of course she found nobody. Then she went back to looking out for any lurking dangers.

“Nothing here,” she said with her permanent pout. “Let’s carry on to the next room.”

They left the room, Hannah always behind her host and looking out for trouble. They approached the next room. There was a noise inside it, something having fallen over.

“What was that?” Hannah snapped, her back straight and rigid.

“Let’s find out,” Mrs. Dan said as she opened the door, then turned on the light. Some boxes lay on the floor in a mess. The women went in the room.

Again, after Mrs. Dan switched on the light, Hannah remained behind her, taking quick looks around the room while remembering to look behind her in case someone was sneaking up on her. She stepped in further.

Apart from the mess of boxes in the middle of the floor, there didn’t seem to be anything of concern going on there. Hannah took a deep breath.

Whatever’s going on up here, she thought, I’m pretty sure I won’t be going back downstairs.

She felt something brush against her calf.

“Oh!” she yelped, then looked behind her and saw nobody. She looked down.

It was the cat.

She smiled, sighed, bent down, and petted it.

“Aww, cute little kitty cat,” she said.

She felt a hand touch her shoulder.

She yelped again and looked up behind her. The cat ran away.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear,” Mrs. Dan said, taking her hand away. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to say that we seem to be finished in here, and so we can go on to the next room.”

“Oh, OK,” Hannah said with a nervous chuckle. She got up and followed Mrs. Dan out of the room.

As they went back into the hall, Hannah noticed something jutting out of the right front pocket of Mrs. Dan’s black pants. It hadn’t been there before. It looked like the handle of a knife.

Did she pocket it while I was distracted by the cat? she wondered. I don’t dare ask her about it, but I’m especially making sure she’s always within my field of vision now.

They went through the rest of the rooms on the second floor and found nothing, Hannah always checking to see if Emily or Mr. Dan was about to ambush her, while never taking her eyes off of Mrs. Dan. Then the two women went up the stairs, Mrs. Dan first, of course, to the third floor.

As they went through the rooms on the third floor, Hannah found it increasingly suspicious that there was still no trace of her parents or brother, nor of Mr. Dan, Emily, or Al.

“This doesn’t make any sense!” Hannah said in exasperation. “Where the hell is everyone?”

“I’m sure we’ll find them soon, d–“

“No, you tell me what you’ve done with them! Mrs. Dan, I’ll bet you and your family already know where they are, and you’re leading me into the same trap, aren’t you?”

“Oh, come, come, my d–“

“Don’t you ‘come, come’ me! Something screwy is–“

They heard a moan from up in the attic.

Hannah looked daggers at Mrs. Dan.

“Your plan is for me to be moaning like that, too, isn’t it?”

Mrs. Dan giggled again. “No, not at all, don’t be–“

“Let’s go up there. You first.”

As they went up the ladder to the attic, Hannah looked at that handle sticking out of Mrs. Dan’s pants pocket.

I’m no pickpocket, she thought, but maybe she’ll be too distracted from climbing the stairs to notice me pulling that knife out of her pocket, if that’s what it in fact is. She reached up slowly and carefully.

Another moan was heard from the stack of boxes.

“Over there,” Hannah said when both of them had reached the top of the stairs. She pointed to the boxes, then ran ahead.

Aren’t you worried about me being behind you? Mrs. Dan thought with a smirk.

Hannah went behind the boxes, near a window. A large, long blanket was covering whoever was moaning, or so it seemed. She threw the blanket off a bit and saw her father’s bifurcated, bloody face, and her mother’s bloody, slit throat.

She screamed out loud, then looked up, remembering Mrs. Dan. She could see her in the window reflection, raising the axe that had killed Brad, about to be buried in her back.

“Goodbye, Hannah,” Meng said through Mrs. Dan’s mouth.

Hannah spun around and lunged at the woman’s guts.

“Did you misplace this?” Hannah hissed at her.

Mrs. Dan dropped the axe behind her, looked down at her knife in her bloody belly, and said in Meng’s low voice,” So, it was…you who…took it. No…matter, another…will kill…you.”

She fell to the floor.

Shaking and panting, Hannah looked back at her parents’ corpses. “That psycho-bitch,” she gasped. “I knew something twisted was going on here. This whole family’s fucked up.” Then she turned around again, her eyes darting around frantically for that…other…who would kill her. She saw no one.

She looked back at the bodies, with teary eyes.

“Oh, Mom, Dad,” she sobbed.

Then she noticed the arm of another body beside her father’s. She saw the black shirt sleeve of Mr. Dan.

She threw the blanket further off, and indeed, it was his body, with a bloody gash in the chest.

“Oh, God!” she gasped, then retched. At least I don’t have to worry about him killing me, she thought, then she remembered to look around the attic again for any more attackers. “Freddie? Emily? No? Good.” Where’s Al?”

She heard another moan, from the far side of Mr. Dan’s body, under the blanket.

Where’s Doug? she wondered. “Oh, no.”

There was a slight movement under the blanket’s edge.

She went over, past the three revealed corpses, and dreaded what she was about to see, but held the hope that her brother was still alive…or was it Al?

She pulled the blanket away. Doug moaned again, his eyes half-open.

“Oh, God! Doug!” she said.

CRACK!!!

She gave a jolt, and screamed at the sight of his now-bloody, fractured skull.

Then she looked up.

The bat was in Al’s hands.

‘The Ancestors,’ a Horror Story, Chapter Eight

After thoroughly checking all of the rooms on the second and third floors, Mr. Dan and Doug approached the bathroom, where Mr. Sandy had been before he was killed.

“Oh, no–now I have to use the can,” Doug said, then went in.

After he closed the door, Mr. Dan thought, And I have to find something just right for you, young man.

But first, he pulled down the attic stairs, then went up them. He peeked his head in, hearing Emily still cleaning up the blood.

“You just about finished up here?” he asked in Chinese.

“Almost,” she said in Chinese. “Just a little more to wipe up.”

“Well, hurry up,” he said. “I’m taking Hannah’s brother up here. He’s in the bathroom. He’s taking his time in there; I guess it’s a number two, but who knows? Maybe not. I’ll send something up to you. Wait to get it, but hurry with the cleaning!”

He went back down, heard Doug fart and grunt, and he surmised that, indeed, it had to be a number two. He’d have a little more time to find…something just right for Doug.

He went into a room next to the one with the boxes, looked around impatiently, and found a baseball bat. He heard some shuffling steps out in the hallway. Oh, no, he thought, Hannah’s brother. Then after a worried pause, he opened the door and looked out.

Nobody out in the hall.

The bathroom door was still closed.

Was Doug still crapping in there?

Mr. Dan went up to the bathroom door to listen. He heard another fart, the slipping out of shit, and a horrible stink.

He squished up his face in disgust, but was relieved that Doug was still in there and suspected nothing. Mr. Dan went up the attic steps with the baseball bat.

“Emily,” he called.

“What?” she said with surprise, looking back at him from the corner where she’d just finished cleaning. “I thought you were already up here. I heard–“

“No, not yet,” he said, then presented the bat. “Put this over there, then get out of here.”

She took the bat, put it in the corner opposite where she’d been cleaning, and rushed over to the attic stairs.

“I’ve got to clean all this blood off my–” she began as she went down the stairs.

“Shh!” he said. “Hurry up and get out of here before he comes out of the bathroom!”

She went down the hall and took the stairs to the second floor. As soon as she’d disappeared, Doug came out of the bathroom.

Mr. Dan let out a sigh of relief.

“What are you so relieved about, Mr. Dan?” Doug asked, looking askance at him.

“Oh, nothing,” Mr. Dan said with a smile and a slightly nervous chuckle. “I was just getting a little impatient waiting for you to finish, that’s all. Sorry about that.” He gestured to the pulled down attic stairs. “Shall we look in the attic now? It’s the only place we haven’t looked.”

“OK.”

They went up into the attic, Doug first.

He heard moaning in one corner of the attic and rushed over to see. “Dad? Mom?” he called out.

Meanwhile, Mr. Dan sneaked over to the other corner, picked up the bat where he’d seen Emily leave it, and hid it behind his legs by the time Doug looked back.

“There’s nobody here,” Doug said. “I heard moaning right from here, but there’s no source for the moans.”

“Really?” Mr. Dan said. “There’s a lot of shadow behind all those boxes. Look again.”

“I’m looking at the shadow behind the boxes, but there’s nothing–wait, under that blanket over there.”

As Doug was approaching it, Mr. Dan raised the bat over his head. “Goodbye, Doug,” he said in a female voice.

“Emily, are you up here?” Doug asked as he pulled back the blanket, revealing his parents’ bloody bodies. He gasped, his eyes widening.

“No, not Emily,” Mr. Dan said in that woman’s voice.

“Mei’s voice,” a young man said from behind Mr. Dan, who turned around to see who it was.

Now he gasped, his eyes widening.

Al swung the axe right at his father’s chest. Blood sprayed out when it dug deep into him.

Mr. Dan fell to the floor, the bat dropping and hitting him on the head. His blood grew into a large puddle all over the floor.

“Al, Jesus fuck!” Doug said. “How could you do that?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Al panted. “That’s for sure. I’m so sorry, Papa.” He bent down and closed his father’s eyes. “Goodbye. Forgive me. I had no choice.” He rose to his feet.

“Why would you kill your own dad, Al?”

“To stop him from bashing your brains in with that bat, of course.”

“What? Al, this is so fucked up! What’s going on? Why would your family…wanna kill my family? Oh, God…Mom, Dad…” He looked back at his parents’ corpses with tears forming in his eyes.

“Because the spirits of my ancestors are taking possession of my family’s bodies to take you all as sacrifices, so my ancestors won’t bother Hannah and me anymore,” Al said in a cold, monotone voice.

“What? What horseshit are you talking about?”

“My family stopped praying to the spirits of our ancestors years ago,” Al explained. “The spirits got angry because of this disrespect, and they’ve been plaguing our family ever since.” He put the axe down on the floor beside him, next to the bat.

“Spirits, Al?” Doug asked, looking at him with a sneer. “Seriously? Let’s face it: You’re a family of homicidal nutjobs. No offence intended to Chinese people in general, but I don’t want you anywhere near my sister!”

“I love Hannah more than anything, and I’m truly sorry for what happened to your parents,” Al said in sobs. “The spirits forced me to agree with this, so I could marry her one day and we could live in peace. If they know I’ve broken the agreement, they–“

“Fuck you, Al, you and your fucked-up family!” Doug bawled.

Al was silent as Doug looked down at his parents’ bodies and wept for them.

“Oh, no…NO!” Al suddenly said.

“What?” Doug said.

But before Doug could turn his head back and see what was going on, he felt a crack of the baseball bat on his head, knocking him out.

‘The Ancestors,’ a Horror Story, Chapter Seven

“What is taking them so long?” Hannah asked with an audible tone of anger.

“Agreed,” Doug said. “I don’t like this. Sorry to be so blunt, but our mom and dad should have been back here sitting in the living room by now. Not even…what’s her name?…Emily, not even she’s back.”

“I wanna go find them,” Hannah said urgently, rising from her chair.

“No,” Al said with even more urgency. “Stay here.”

“Why?” she asked, glaring at him, suspecting he knew something she didn’t.

“Because,” he said, squirming in his chair and searching for a plausible excuse. “I-I just want you here with me.”

“I agree,” Doug said, getting up from the sofa. “I’ll go find them. I don’t like you going up there, Hannah.” He was looking at Al’s family with suspicious eyes as he said that last sentence.

“I’ll take you upstairs and help you look for them,” Mr. Dan said, getting up from his chair.

“Yeah, sure,” Doug said. “I can take you in a fight, if necessary.”

Hannah scowled at her brother for his rudeness while Mr. Dan laughed. “I assure you, young man, that won’t be necessary. I’m sure there’s a simple explanation for all of this. Come with me.”

Al continued to squirm in his chair as his father led Doug out of the living room and towards the stairs. Hannah was watching her boyfriend’s nervousness with some worry of her own.

The sprits have killed Hannah’s parents, Al thought. I’m sure of it. Po, Meng, and the other spirits are possessing my family members’ bodies and killing off Hannah’s family. Her brother is next to die, and Dad’s going to be his murderer this time. Emily is probably still cleaning up the mess after killing Hannah’s mother. In any case, if Emily came down now without Mrs. Sandy, she’d have a hard time explaining why neither Hannah’s mom nor her dad are back. I’m gonna have to intervene, as nasty as Po and the other spirits are gonna be to me. I should never have agreed to giving Hannah’s family to the ancestors. I won’t be able to live with myself if I just sit idly by while her whole family is murdered.

Al jumped up from his chair all of a sudden.

“What’s your problem, loser?” Freddie asked, sneering.

“I gotta use the bathroom,” Al said, glaring back at his smart-ass brother.

“Ooh, dirty look,” Freddie said, smirking.

“My boyfriend is not a ‘loser,’ Freddie,” Hannah said, looking coolly into his eyes.

“Are you sure about that?” Freddie said with a smug grin.

“Yes, I am,” she said, still looking straight in his eyes. Her voice would rise in a crescendo as she stood up. “And I’m also sure that you have a really offensive attitude. It’s bad enough that my parents are mysteriously missing, and you’re only making things harder with your abusive remarks. Why can’t you just love your brother? Now I understand why Al was so uncomfortable about me meeting his family!”

Freddie was laughing now. “Whoa!”

Mrs. Dan wasn’t so impressed, though.

You will pay for making my family lose face, girl, she thought as she frowned at Hannah.

Hannah saw the angry look on Mrs. Dan’s face and realized she’d crossed over the line.

“Oh, uh…” she stammered. “I…w-wasn’t directing that at…all of your family, Ms. Dan, just…”

“At Freddie,” Mrs. Dan said with a grin as Hannah sheepishly sat back down. “I will admit that he does need to mind his manners.” Now she was glaring at him. His smart-ass smile faded.

“Anyway,” Al said in a wobbly voice. “I gotta use the bathroom.” He was walking toward the exit that led to the stairs.

“Why are you going that way, Al?” his mother asked. “The way to the first-floor bathroom is out the other way.” She pointed to the exit at the opposite side of the living room. “You’re not thinking of using one of the upstairs bathrooms, are you?”

“Of course I am,” Al said. “You yourself told Mr. Sandy that the ground floor toilet is broken. We all know that. How could you forget, Ma?”

“Oh, old age must be making me scatterbrained,” she said, giggling and tapping her head. “I just find it odd that you have to go upstairs so soon after your father took her brother up there.” She was now glaring at him, as if something supernatural inside her body could read his mind. “You don’t by chance have some other reason for going up there, do you, Al?” She took a sip of her tea.

“I just need to pee, Mama,” Al said, then went out for the stairs. I hope that was just her being suspicious, and not Po, he thought.

“Don’t piss your life away,” Freddie said in a deep voice. “Loser.”

He looked right at frowning Hannah and grinned.

She saw a devil in his eyes.

Al thought he had heard Meng in his brother’s voice.

Two Five-Star Reviews for ‘Nature Triumphs’!

Nature Triumphs: a Charity Anthology of Dark Speculative Literature has recently received two five-star reviews. Scroll down the Amazon page to read them yourself, or read them here:

Avid reader called the anthology “Fun, Appealing, Scary, Thought-Provoking Eco-Horror Fiction–And Just in Time for Halloween)“

“I loved this wonderful, big, entertaining, appealing, fun book –scary AND heartfelt eco-horror anthology. Exceptionally well-edited containing many varietal, well-written, vivid, horrifying stories and poems by diverse, established authors. Innovative concept/environmental/ecological/nature theme masterfully executed. I especially like stories “Yard Work” by Michael Errol Swaim, “Blood Rose” by Alison Armstrong, “One Side of a Conservation with Mother Nature” by Kyle Heger, “A Reversal of Fortune” by JG Faherty, and “last Call at the Garden of Eden” by Lamont A. Turner. I like that the money goes to The Nature Conservancy. Great book/gift for Halloween and for lovers/readers of horror, sci fi, dark speculative, ecological/ nature fiction and poetry.”

Jordan Francis called it “A beautiful and haunting Anthology for a great cause“.

“A beautiful and haunting Anthology. This collection of short stories and poems is amazing. It is at turns haunting, funny, and beautiful. This has introduced me to a multitude of great writers that i need to go back and check out their other works. Definitely worth the price of admission.”

Recall that my story, “The Bees,” is about a geneticist/beekeeper who, fed up with the world’s indifference to the dying off of the bees, does genetic alterations of the many bees he takes care of. He weaponizes them, making them bigger, stronger, smarter, and more lethal, capable of stinging their victims many times until they die. Can he be stopped, or will his enhanced bees multiply and tyrannize the world?

I really hope you’ll all go out and get yourselves a copy of this collection. It’s all for a good cause, and you’ll love the stories and poetry! 🙂

‘Symptom of the Universe’ is Published!

Symptom of the Universe: A Horror Tribute to Black Sabbath is finally published on Amazon Kindle. The paperback is $19.99. It will also be released on Godless on September 22nd.

Here is a link to the Amazon e-book. Here is a link to the paperback. Here is a link to its wide distribution as an e-book.

Here is a blurb from Dark Moon Rising Publications, the anthology’s publisher:

“From the publisher who brought you Nature Triumphs: A Charity Anthology of Dark Speculative Literature, Dark Moon Rising presents Symptom of the Universe: A Horror Tribute to Black Sabbath A worldwide gathering of award winning horror authors have come together to craft a collection of dark fiction stories covering every album and every era of Black Sabbath. Each story is inspired by one of Black Sabbath’s greatest songs from the biggest hits to the most obscure album tracks. SYMPTOM OF THE UNIVERSE: A HORROR TRIBUTE TO BLACK SABBATH is an immediate classic for rock fans and horror fans alike. Featuring the talents of Stewart Giles, J. Rocky Colavito, Sidney Williams, Tom Lucas, Thomas R. Clark, Ezekiel Kincaid, Neil Kelly, Tony Millington and many more, curated and edited by J.C. Maçek III with a foreword by Martin Popoff, Symptom of the Universe will whet your appetite for horror and rock at the same time.

“All proceeds are being donated to the Dio Cancer Fund.

“Trigger warnings: Themes of addiction, mental health, and self-harm

“Are you ready for a rocking read??”

Recall that my short story, ‘NIB,’ based on the song, of course, is in this collection. It’s about a drug user, Terry, whose drug dealer has given him some powerful dope combined with witchcraft. While he’s tripping, she seduces him, unwittingly triggering childhood trauma in him and putting him through a nightmarish experience that could kill him.

Please check it out. The ebook is only $3.14. You’ll love it!

I’ve already read a number of the stories, and I can tell you that this is a quality collection. One story runs the gamut of the mundane life of a homeless junkie all the way to a nuclear apocalypse. Another story involves wrestlers in an antiwar allegory. Yet another story is an erotic horror story with two femmes fatales. And yet another story turns a suicide into a revengeful homicide.

You won’t regret buying this anthology. Go get it!

‘The Ancestors,’ a Horror Story, Chapter Six

Between ten and twenty minutes later, Freddie came down the stairs and into the living room, where everyone was having after-dinner tea. He had changed his clothes.

Margaret looked up with hope to see Brad finally returning. She frowned to see only Freddie.

“Where is my husband?” she asked. “He’s been way too long up there.”

“It must be his gout slowing him down,” Hannah said.

“It shouldn’t be slowing him down this much,” Margaret said. “Even if he had to do a Number Two.”

“Did you see my dad up there, Freddie?” Hannah asked him. “And why are you dressed differently?”

“Oh, uh,” he began, “I found a mess up there that urgently needed cleaning, and I got some of the mess on my clothes, so I changed them. I never saw your dad, probably because I was so busy in a room up there cleaning the mess.”

“Well, I’m beginning to worry,” Margaret said.

“I can take you upstairs and help you look for him, Mrs. Sandy,” Emily said. “Let’s go.”

“OK,” Margaret said. “Thank you, Emily.”

They both got up and started walking out of the living room towards the stairs. As Emily was following Margaret, Freddie put something in his sister’s hand while no one else was looking.

As they were going up the stairs to the second floor, Emily caught up with Margaret.

“I’d like to check every floor,” Margaret said. “Just in case.” They reached the second floor. “Brad? Are you there?”

No answer.

“I hate to snoop around your house,” she said, “so I’ll let you show me the areas you feel more comfortable with me seeing, Emily.”

“That’s fine, Mrs. Sandy.”

They went through the hall, room by room.

“Brad?” Margaret called again.

“Mr. Sandy?” Emily called out.

No answer.

Emily opened the doors of the rooms so Margaret could look in. No sight of her husband anywhere, of course.

“OK,” Margaret said with a sigh. “Shall we go up to the third floor?”

“If you wish, Mrs. Sandy,” Emily said.

They returned to the stairs, and started going up to the next floor. “Brad?” Margaret called. “Where are you?”

Still no answer, of course.

Margaret’s heart was pounding. She shook all over. A drop of sweat or two ran down her face.

“Brad!” she shouted as they were reaching the third floor. “Brad!”

Silence.

“I’m sorry for the shouting, Emily,” she said with a wobbly voice. “But this is starting to scare me.”

“I understand,” Emily said as they were now leaving the stairs and walking down the third floor hallway. “And don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll find your husband soon, and there will be a perfectly reasonable explanation for–“

“Aaah!” Margaret screamed.

She saw a few drops of blood on the floor just by the door to the room where Brad had found the cat. In fact, that cat was walking by right at that moment, with a few spots of Brad’s blood on its ginger fur.

“Oh, Mrs. Sandy,” Emily said, picking up the cat and showing it to her. “The blood isn’t your husband’s. It’s our cat’s–see? Don’t worry. I’m sure he’s fine. Let’s just keep looking for him, OK?”

“I’d really like to believe you,” Margaret said, not seeing any actual signs of injury on the cat, just the spots of blood as if they’d come from somewhere else. “But frankly, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Very well. Let’s keep looking.”

“What’s in that room?”

“Oh, nothing interesting. Just a lot of boxes.”

“Is it OK if I take a look in there?”

“Well…uh…sure, but I see no reason why your husband would be in there.” Emily frowned, Margaret noting some tension in her eyes.

“I’d like to see what’s in there,” Margaret said firmly.

Emily hesitated. “Well, alright.” She opened the door.

Nothing could be seen in the dark.

“You must have a light switch,” Margaret said.

“Of course,” Emily said, then turned on the light.

Just stacks of books. No blood.

Emily breathed a sigh of relief, as if she had clairvoyance to know what had happened in there.

Margaret got a good look around the room and was satisfied about it, but was wondering about Emily.

“OK, Emily,” she said. “Let’s keep looking.”

They went out of the room, Emily turned off the light and closed the door, and they continued down the hall in the direction of the bathroom, the door of which Brad had left wide open, and so it was easy to see that no one was in it.

A moaning sound, with the deep voice of a man, was heard from above.

“Brad?” Margaret said, her head pointing up.

“That sounded like it was coming from the attic,” Emily said. “Come this way.” They continued down the hall towards the bathroom. She gestured at the ceiling. “We go up there.”

“Pull down attic stairs?”

“Yes,” Emily said, getting a short step ladder from the bathroom to stand on. She got on, pulled down the attic stairs, then went up into the attic, Margaret following immediately after.

More low groaning, from a far corner opposite from where the two women were.

“Brad?” Margaret called in the darkness, her hands cutting through cobwebs as she went in the direction of the groans. “Are you in here?”

There was another groan, but this time it was from a corner in the opposite direction.

“What the–?” Margaret said, then tripped over something and almost fell down.

Standing behind Margaret, Emily was smiling.

As Margaret continued stumbling in the dark to where she’d heard this last groan, Emily took what Freddie had given her out of her pocket.

“Is there an electric light in here, Emily?”

‘Yes, of course,” Emily said, still smiling. “I’ll go get it.”

Just as Margaret had reached that corner, a moan was heard from far back behind her.

“Why do all the moans keep coming from different places?” Margaret’s pulse was racing. “You’d think someone was pulling a prank on me. If so, it’s not at all funny.”

Emily tugged a string, and a light bulb shone from the ceiling in the centre of the attic.

As in the other room, boxes were stacked everywhere, all clad in cobwebs.

“At least I can see now,” Margaret said, her eyes racing around the area to find the source of the groaning. As she walked toward where she’d heard the last groan, another came from the opposite direction. “Oh, for God’s sake, not again! What’s going on here? Are you part of this mind game, Emily?” She looked behind her and saw Emily standing immediately in back of her, grinning eerily. “What are you doing, Emily?”

“I am not Emily, Mrs. Sandy,” a deep, male voice said out of her mouth. “I am Meng, one of the Dan family’s ancestors.”

Margaret didn’t have time to react to that monstrosity of a voice, for she saw, just over Emily’s shoulder and among the boxes in a corner, her husband’s legs lying on the floor.

“Brad?” she called out, then shoved Emily to the side and ran over to his body.

A white sheet, stained with blood, was wrapped around Brad’s head. Blood stains were all over his clothes.

She gasped, then unwrapped the sheet as unwillingly as could be, but needing to know the ugly truth. The deep axe wound in his face gave her that needed truth.

“Aaaaahhh!!!”

Her screams were cut short by a deep slice in her throat by the blade of the straight razor Freddie had given Emily. Her blood was gushing out as she fell. Emily lay Margaret’s body next to Brad’s.

“And now, you can be together forever, Mr. and Mrs. Sandy,” Meng said.

‘Nature Triumphs’ is Published!

Nature Triumphs: a Charity Anthology of Dark Speculative Literature, is now published on Amazon, and is available in ebook here. It’s also available on Godless, where it’s now made the Top Ten!

This anthology is a collection of horror short stories and poetry edited by Alison Armstrong and Pixie Bruner, and presented by Dark Moon Rising Publications. The charity is dedicated to helping save the environment.

My short story is called ‘The Bees.’ It’s about a geneticist/beekeeper who, fed up with the world’s indifference to the dying off of the bees, does genetic alterations of the many bees he takes care of. He weaponizes them, making them bigger, stronger, smarter, and more lethal, capable of stinging their victims many times until they die. Can he be stopped, or will his enhanced bees multiply and tyrannize the world?

All the talented writers in this anthology include Angela Acosta, M.G. Allen, Alison Armstrong, Lilse Asalt, Andrew Bell, Katie Brunecz, Pixie Bruner, Ramsey Campbell, J. Rocky Colavito, Rebecca Cuthbert, Julie Dron, Stephanie Ellis, Timons Esaias, J.G. Faherty, Thomas Folske, Brian U. Garrison, Elana Gomel, Alejandro Gonzales, Norbert Góra, [myself], Sebastian Gray, Megan Guilliams, Linda Kay Hardie, Kyle Heger, Kristi Hendricks, Kasey Hill, Larry Hodges, Akua Lezli Hope, Sandra Lindow, Gordon Linzner, J.C. Maçek III, Victor Malone, John C. Mannone, David C. Kopaska-Merkel, Makena Metz, Edward Morris, Irena Barbara Nagler, Kris Nelson, Kevin Sandefur, Em Starr, Michael Errol Swaim, Rob Tannahill, Lamont A. Turner, and Mary A. Turzillo.

Please come check our book out, and help us to help the environment in a fun, scary way. I’m sure you’ll love the stories and poems in this collection! They totally rock!

My Short Story, ‘Sing, Sing, Sing,’ in the Anthology, ‘Psalms of the Alien Buddha #3, The Final Track

Psalms of the Alien Buddha #3, the Final Track is a new anthology of poetry and prose published by Alien Buddha Press. I have a horror short story in it, called “Sing, Sing, Sing.”

The story is about two eighteen-year-old girls in a high school jazz band who love a jazz clarinetist, Woody, who is almost ten years older than them, and who is creepy enough to want to fool around with them. The first of these two girls, Claire, is jealous of Hedda, the second girl, for stealing Woody, and Claire wants to get revenge on Hedda. Claire also knows how to use magic, so that will be how she achieves her revenge. Now, when she achieves her revenge, will all be well with her, or will she have to deal with some bad karma because of it?

Of course, there are many other talented writers of prose and poetry in this anthology. I’m hoping you can read all their names on the back cover presented above. The paperback is now available on Amazon for $14.99. Go check it out: I’m sure you’ll love it!

‘The Ancestors,’ a Horror Story, Chapter Five

“I gotta use the washroom,” Freddie said, then got up and left the dining room.

Good, Hannah though, frowning as she watched him walk away. Fall in the toilet and drown in there, why don’t you? As long as you stop belittling the man I love.

“Oh, nuts,” Brad said, squirming in his chair. “I gotta go, too. Do you have another bathroom, please?”

“On the third floor,” Emily said.

Brad frowned a bit. “You don’t have one here on the ground floor?”

“We do, but the toilet in it is broken,” Mrs. Dan said. “If you can’t wait for Freddie to get back, I’m afraid you’ll have to use the one on the third floor. Sorry.”

“And Freddie takes forever in the bathroom,” Al said.

“And you don’t?” Emily snapped at him.

He raised his middle finger at her, his other hand covering it so the others wouldn’t see.

“Ooh, the finger,” she said.

Brad let out a big sigh and got up. “I guess I’ll have to go up there,” he said. “My gout’s gonna kill me, but I don’t wanna hold this in much longer.” He went out of the room.

Hannah leaned over to her mother and whispered in her ear, “I hate for Dad to suffer with his gout going up those stairs, but if Freddie takes forever in the second-floor bathroom, I’ll be OK with his prolonged absence.”

“Agreed,” Margaret whispered back in Hannah’s ear.

Mr. and Mrs. Dan gave the two whisperers a cool glare, not approving of the privacy of their brief exchange. The two looked back at them with a shudder.

Just a few more steps, Brad thought as he struggled to reach the third floor. God, my foot is killing me!

When his two feet were finally on the third floor, he let out a grunt of relief. He saw, at the end of the hall, a wide-open door revealing the bathroom. Now he just had to limp his way over there.

He got in, closed the door and locked it, then lifted the toilet seat. He unzipped his pants, took it out, and let out a long, loud sigh of relief as he began emptying himself in the toilet bowl.

That was worth the pain in my foot, he was thinking as his bladder got emptier and emptier. Maybe.

Now, completely voided, he gave it a shake, put it away, and zipped himself up. He let out another sigh of relief and washed his hands after flushing.

He groaned in pain as he shuffled his feet and left the bathroom. Going down the stairs wouldn’t be quite as bad for him as going up, but the damage had already been done by the three-floor ascent. He was not looking forward to returning.

If only they had a stair lift here, as we have at home, he thought as he, wincing in pain, limped back to the stairs.

“Hello,” he heard someone say in an exaggerated, sing-song voice, as if mocking him, from behind.

“What?” he said looking back and seeing no one.

“Hello,” the male voice said again, in the same mocking way. “How do you do?”

“That isn’t funny,” Brad said, grateful only that the voice was giving him an excuse not to keep moving on that painful foot. “Maybe you think it’s amusing, but it isn’t.”

He took another step, then one with his bad foot. He moaned in pain.

“I love you,” his watcher called in that sing-song voice again.

“What kind of an idiot are you?” Brad said.

“Fuck you,” the boyish voice said.

“Is that you, Freddie? You aren’t just an asshole to your brother; you’re an asshole to everybody, aren’t you?”

“Come in here, and find out if I’m Freddie or not.”

“I don’t think I want to waste my time with someone so disrespectful to guests. Besides, my foot can’t handle moving around any more than I have to.”

The door to a room right next to him in the hallway suddenly opened. Brad looked in and saw nobody, though the light was off and little could be seen. He heard a slight grunting sound.

“What’s that?” he said softly. An animal, or just that jerk making animal noises?

He heard the grunt again. If that was Freddie, or whoever, making the grunts, he was good at doing animal impressions. The pain in his foot was subsiding.

I like animals, and I’m not looking forward to going down all those stairs, he thought as he turned to face the opened door. What the hell–I’ll take a look.

In he went, wincing from his aching foot. He felt around the wall in the darkness for the light switch as he tried to find, in the dimness, the source of the grunts.

Just before he found the switch, he heard another sing-song “Hello.”

The light went on.

No animal.

No speaker.

Just boxes of things, stacked up all over the room.

He shuffled further into the room slowly, grunting with every movement of that sore foot. He looked around to see if the grunts were from an animal or from Freddie.

He heard another grunt, from behind some of the boxes. The space behind them was too small for Freddie, or anyone else, to be hiding there.

He shuffled closer to the boxes.

He heard another grunt.

He bent down by the back of the boxes.

The door creaked.

With his bad legs and his awkward position, he wasn’t able to look around in time to see if Freddie, or whoever that was, made the door creak.

He saw no one in the room, but the door was now swung all the way open, instead of half-open, as it had been when he went in. Freddie, if it was him, had to be hiding behind the door, in the corner of the room opposite from where Brad was.

He heard another grunt.

He looked behind the boxes. It was a cat with ginger fur. Now it began meowing.

“Aww,” he said, reaching out. “C’m’ere, my little sweetheart.” He picked it up, then straightened up slowly with a groan from his stiff back. “What were you doing back there?” he asked while stroking its back and enjoying the sound of its purring. “You little silly–“

“Hello.”

He turned around and looked over at the door with a glare. Alright, asshole, he thought as he began limping toward the door, always stroking the cat. What nonsense do you have planned for me behind there?

Though he was impatient to get over there and find whoever was behind the door and get this nonsense over with, his sore foot was still slowing him down.

He inched closer and closer.

There was total silence.

Now, he would have preferred to hear another hello.

Finally, he reached the door.

He grabbed it, ready to swing it the other way.

As he did, he said, “Alright, asshole, what’s your–?”

No one was there.

“Mmm?” he said.

The cat was fidgeting in his other arm.

“Oh, I guess you wanna be let go.”

He let the cat drop from his arm, its feet tapping the floor.

“Good evening, Mr. Sandy,” the hoarse voice of an old woman said from behind him.

“Oh?” he said, startled, then turned around.

His eyes and mouth widened.

Before he could scream or process what he saw, an axe came chopping into his face, cutting his head almost into halves and spraying his blood everywhere. In the split second that he had to take in who had killed him, he saw Freddie.

The rest of his body shook for a few seconds, then it fell to the floor with a thump.

The cat meowed again.

“Come, kitty,” Po said through Freddie’s mouth in Chinese. “Run along back downstairs. I have a mess to clean up. At least his foot won’t be troubling him anymore.”