“Resurrection Men”
by A.C. Quill
I stumble off the night bus, and find I’m lost in South London. In front of me runs a long, high brick wall. The map app on my phone shows me what’s behind the wall: Nunhead cemetery. A big green obstacle, I’ll have to trudge round the edge of it, if I want to get home.
Or could there be a short cut?
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“Monsters Without Masks: An Interlude”
by H.B. Kurtzwilde
The house at the corner of Cherry Street and Beville was the object of endless rumors. It was too big, too old, and too creepy to be just a home. Any child in River City could have given the address with total confidence if asked where to find a ghost or a witch. Therefore, the residents felt they had a civic duty to fulfill when it came to Halloween.
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“Monsters Among Us”
by Bernie Mojzes
It’s not that he hated Halloween; he just found it tiresome. The incessant buildup in all the media promising unparalleled sights and frights, the ghosts and monsters of the past stalking through the modern world… ultimately a letdown. An adrenaline backwash.
And then, even worse, the interminable time afterward, a swamp of ennui and unexplainable depression, lingering days, even weeks.
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“Witnesses”
by Eric Del Carlo
Fable had it that this Halloween night was when old-time rock ‘n roll held its breath: here was the great Incident, the naughty, erotic slip-up, that lightning-stuck occurrence when the two gaudy musical god children got it on together, man on man. Stick Duggs and Elvin de Vries, each bona fide legends. Rock icons who had blistered the flesh of the planet with their puissant sounds. Both men had already assembled acclaimed careers by this time; and they would persist as mainstays of music for decades after this.
But tonight…oh, tonight they were lovers.
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“Inkling”
by Julie Behrens
It was night by the time the raven Parri made it to the witch’s keep, and she let herself in without rousing a soul. She was cold and wet from the rain, and thinking only of her soft bed. But there was a candle burning in her room, and she winced to see Elena awake and writing at the small desk.
“You’re getting in rather late,” her witch said. The calm in her voice was more worrying than anger.
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“Precipice”
by Eric Del Carlo
O Gods of Speed and Shadow! The imminence of the great, glorious calamity is present in the air, vibrating the particles, giving every edge a razor keenness, forcing the deepest colors from all surrounding objects. The thrill. The thrill! It is like nothing else, nothing in the universe, with all its splendors, its baffling wonders, its soul-searing beauties and mind-shattering horrors.
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