Tag Archives: Horror

Fun with Book Covers – Resharing my Micro Fiction Horror

Brother’s Maker

Thick rivulets of blood moved down the wall like snakes slithering into Hell. Lucius thought going there himself would be better than mucking out this foul slaughter. Hiding his brother’s crimes from Prince Remus. Death by fire, their punishment if caught.

Linus, too far gone to understand the danger, had killed another valuable hunter. Lucius labored to obliterate the evidence while Linus crouched over an arm sucking out the blood and marrow like a human sucking meat from a crab leg.

Lucius had turned his brother. Watching him deteriorate was penance. Figuring out how to reverse it, his only purpose.

Brother’s Keeper

Lucius stared in frustration at the naked female, then grabbed newspaper from the alley trash to cover her. Copious blood soaked through, turning it to pulp. He added more paper. Didn’t help. Blood spouted like a fountain from her torn jugular. He yanked his brother, who’d pounced on her again, away from her neck.

“You couldn’t have gone one more block?”

Linus whipped towards him. Lucius stifled a gasp. The nerdy, giraffe-legged brother was there. Then his eyes turned soulless, reflecting the red pooling beneath their feet, and his stark hunger. Pain stabbed Lucius where his heart once beat.

Brother’s Killer

Lucius cradled Linus’s head in his lap. Just his head… which Lucius had to remove. He stared at the rectangular hole holding his brother’s body, then forced his gaze away to take in the fateful surroundings.

The graveyard was damp. Dew glistened on the grass. Dripped from cypress trees and giant yews. None of it made this real. They’d been vampires for five decades, inseparable. But Linus’s self-control had deserted him. He broke too many council laws.

“You never believed you could be ended, brother. Didn’t you once think it would be me who would have to do the ending?”

Meet Author E. B. Hunter on my Guest Spotlight this Sunday

An Old Favorite… and Inspiration

Visiting an old favorite by Dean Koontz. Twilight Eyes. Anyone else been a fan since the 80s? This is a signed illustrated edition I got for my hubby years ago. Nothing better than a horror story in a carnie setting. Might have to try my hand at it one day…

My all time favorite Koontz is Watchers. What’s yours?

100-Word Story Challenge. My foray into horror – A minor Starlight Chronicles Vampire character, my inspiration…

Enjoy a Three-Part Supernatural Horror Story – Exactly 100 Words Each

One: Brother’s Maker

Thick rivulets of blood moved down the wall like snakes slithering into Hell. Lucius thought going there himself would be better than mucking out this foul slaughter. Hiding his brother’s crimes from Prince Remus. Death by fire, their punishment if caught.

Linus, too far gone to understand the danger, had killed another valuable hunter. Lucius labored to obliterate the evidence while Linus crouched over an arm sucking out the blood and marrow like a human sucking meat from a crab leg.

Lucius had turned his brother. Watching him deteriorate was penance. Figuring out how to stop it, his only purpose.

Two: Brother’s Keeper

Lucius stared in frustration at the naked female, then grabbed newspaper from the alley trash to cover her. Copious blood soaked through, turning it to pulp. He added more paper. Didn’t help. Blood spouted like a fountain from her torn jugular. He yanked his brother, who’d pounced on her again, away from her neck.

“You couldn’t have gone one more block?” Linus whipped towards him. Lucius stifled a gasp. The nerdy, giraffe-legged brother was there. Then the eyes turned soulless, reflecting the red pooling beneath their feet, and Linus’s stark hunger. Pain stabbed Lucius where his heart once beat.

Three: Brother’s Killer

Lucius cradled Linus’s head in his lap. Just his head… which Lucius had to remove. He stared at the rectangular hole holding his brother’s body, then forced his gaze away to take in the fateful surroundings. The graveyard was damp. Dew glistened on the grass. Dripped from cypress trees and giant yews. None of it made this real. They’d been vampires for five decades, inseparable. But Linus’s self-control had deserted him. He broke too many council laws.

“You never believed you could be ended, brother. Didn’t you once think it would be me who would have to do the ending?”

First drafts rejected. I think I’m getting it now.

I was pretty happy about my first attempt to do a 100-word story. The publisher, not so much. But that’s okay because I learned a lot in the process . These bits about vampire brothers were inspired by a minor character in my Starlight Chronicles series. I admit, pure horror is a challenge for me, though I love reading and watching it, the darker the better. I read Bram Stoker in my youth, along with Mary Shelly, which means those sweeping, tantalizing, horrific impressions are there, deep down, and now that I’m writing fantasy, I’m compelled to draw from their brilliance.

Vlad the Impaler has been an endless fascinating figure in history and fiction for me, no matter how many ways his story has been told. And I think today’s supernatural fantasy authors are finding entertaining ways to retell the tales. Many of them inspired me.

I think Luke Evans portrayed an excellent fictional Vlad. Dracula Untold sparked my imagination, and gave a feel for the period and setting. I was disappointed with its box office failure, which ended hopes of a sequel. In case you haven’t seen it, here’s the trailer.

Please take a moment to read the drabbles above and let me know if I’m on the right track for a story told in exactly 100 words. Better yet, share your own 100-word story in the comments.

Thank you!

3D Art by Ismael Tejero

Apocalyptic Pressures

Artwork by Kael Ngu

I don’t know about you all, but I’m feeling it, Conquest, War, Famine, Death. We’ve seen every form of the hammer coming down on mankind these last two years. What does it mean? Are we in an apocalypse, or is one coming? Or will all of the climate change, crazy-ass world leaders, and violence and hate disappear in some miraculous way before the horsemen make an appearance? What if they’re here and we just don’t know it?

Regardless, we plod along with daily life, those of us not touched by tragedy (and those numbers in just two years are staggering). For me, this means writing. I’m grateful to have a happy place to escape to, even if my first book was set in the Sierra Nevada Mountains where over a million acres burned thirty miles away the summer I published it.

I couldn’t even breath in my own house while I clicked away on my keyboard and tried not to think of the demise of old growth forests, pioneer towns, and all the animals trapped in the inferno. I dedicated my series to those brave firefighters and citizens battling blazes too hot to control, while the insane university professor started another one right behind them. It was the least I could do.

Many of my fellow indie writers tell fantastic stories with apocalyptic scenes, horror at it’s most grim, with the reaper waiting at the end for the hapless protagonist. I love them, love the thrill of knowing death is around the corner, waiting for the end to see what it looks like, but finding out it’s too late. Then I listen to the news. Our reality these days poses quite a challenge to horror fiction writers, when reality can be truer.

I’ve been dabbling in writing horror myself recently, to stretch my writing muscles, find out if I can go to those dark places in my mind that my pod people stay clear of, ever watchful of the shrouded figure with the scythe.

Maybe the aliens who seeded my mind with them know something I don’t, because they’ve given me characters who wish for happy endings.

Artwork by Kael Ngu