There were two concrete pylons topped with lanterns and wrapped in strings of blue Christmas lights; they flanked the narrow dirt path off to the left of the car, seeming incongruous against the backdrop of close, moss-hung trees whose forms were starting to turn black in the twilight. “I’m guessing this is probably it,” Evie … More Fiction: Pale Sire
It seemed as though they had emerged from a tunnel. The overhanging trees thinned to nothing, and suddenly they were under the open sky, and the causeway was a flat ribbon before them. Puddles from the earlier storm reflected a sliver of moon. “It’s too bad we couldn’t see it in the daylight,” Adam said. … More Fiction: In the Space Between Our Houses
The afternoon sun dappled the fields like droplets of honey, shining on the backs of the men as they gathered the remaining harvest in their blue-black hands. Far off, a brick structure stood like a paper cutout against the sky, its tall stacks producing a haze that hung over the landscape, the promise of a … More Fiction: Time, of the Essence
Carson was drunk, but not so drunk that he didn’t know it was time to get the hell out of there. What’s-her-name—the girlfriend of the guy who owned the house—was drunk too, and she’d cornered him in one of the upstairs bedrooms. She tasted like eggnog and pine-scented aerosol spray; her panties were black with … More Fiction: Candlelight
The pond looked dark, even now, even in broad daylight. Muriel remembered it had always looked dark. She had always been afraid of it. She waded through layers of dead leaves in her worn black flats, keeping her eyes fixed on the still water. The grass around the pond had grown long and wild; Muriel … More Fiction: William’s Pond
Upon opening her eyes, Lorna would always see the same thing: The floors, the walls, the ceiling, all sparkling with frost in the darkness like the inside of a candy sugar house, still and white and glinting in the light of the silver moon. Icicles dangling like delicate blown glass, reflecting her image in miniature, … More Fiction: Winter House
“Thanks for calling CastOutCo, we’re steamin’ mad at demons. How can I help you?” “I’m not sure whether I should be calling or not.” Father Buck rolled his eyes, aiming another pencil at the ceiling tiles. “What seems to be the problem?” “It’s my son. I don’t know where to turn…” The woman started talking, and Buck … More Fiction: The Expulsion
by Jenny Ashford The womb is a trap, Philip thought to himself. He caught his reflection in a shop window and slowed his pace, taking in his furrowed brow, his stooped shoulders. The trap was pressing down. Bonnie was already naked when she answered his knock. He peeled off his pants without a word and … More Fiction: Brilliant Cut
by Jenny Ashford “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” The doorbell rang. “Too late now, isn’t it?” Debra laughed ruefully. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Kevin answered the door. Anna stood there, dark hair pulled into a bun, bottle of wine in hand. “Sorry, I just remembered she probably can’t drink this.” Debra, standing behind … More Fiction: Acacia
by Jenny Ashford “You’re not bringing that girl here.” Troy’s father was yelling, and even though Troy curled his body down as small as it would go, burrowing under the covers and clapping his hands over his ears, the man’s voice still resonated through his head like the toll of a great bell. “Your father’s right, Troy.” Mother … More Fiction: Here Comes the Bride
The Scare Salon 