Flash Fiction *Endless Discipline*

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Endless Discipline

G. E. Smith

 

“Mother, Edmund ran me through with a metal fencepost.”

After you set me on fire,” Edmund said.

“Enough.” Mother looked at the entryway rug spackled with blood and bits of charred flesh. “That’s the third rug this week you two have ruined. Out, both of you.” Mother grabbed her purse and car keys and went outside.

“Where are you going?” Emily said.

“In town to get another rug.” Mother tore out of the driveway.

Edmund and Emily grinned at each other.

“Race you to the stump with the rusty hatchet in it,” Edmund said.

The two siblings sprinted off.

* * *

Mother tapped the steering wheel as the car idled at a T intersection.

LINDBURGH CITY 4 MILES

The sign arrow pointed left.

Mother put the convertible top down. She smiled, turned right, and floored the accelerator. Being an immortal single mom hadn’t been easy, but that was all about to change.

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Flash Fiction *Down the Alley*

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Down the Alley

by Rie Sheridan Rose

            It was a quiet night… until the short-cut. I should have known better.

The library had been open late, so I was in a hurry. Mr. Tuggles would be so cross. He was used to being fed by six. That’s why I took the alley. It cut twenty minutes off the walk home.

I was a little distracted by the knowledge that my cat would be hungry. So I didn’t notice the noise at first. The little squeaking.

But it got louder and louder. Squeaks. Lots and lots of squeaks.

Then the eyes. Red dots about ankle high.

I started to turn around, but there were eyes behind. I clutched my purse by the handle. It was heavy enough to do a bit of damage.

But there were too many eyes. Too many squeaks. Both ways.

Could I get around?

My eyes darted back and forth.

I tried to run forward. Get through them to go home…

But the cat wasn’t the only thing that was hungry that night.

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Flash Fiction *Burn*

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Burn

Karen Heslop

“No! Don’t go in there!” she cried while gripping the fireman’s arm.

The burly man pulled away from her easily and ran towards the burning house. She watched him disappear into the roiling sea of orange and yellow. Silently, she willed the bricks and beams of the old house to crumble and bury everything. God would forgive her; He would understand. Suddenly, the fireman exploded from the front door with his blanketed package in tow, a smile brightening his soot-smeared face. He released the sole occupant of the inferno as soon as it was clear he could walk on his own. The tall, lanky man who she now knew was not a man at all walked towards her on unsteady legs. She clenched and unclenched her fists in both fear and frustration. When he embraced her, two tentacles from his true form protruded from his chest to brush against her breast roughly and her body stiffened involuntarily.

“My dear…fire never works,” he whispered in her ear mockingly.

A single tear ran down her cheek.

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Upcoming Events

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July 29th, 2017

FunDead will have a booth at the Plastic City Comic Con at the Wallace Civic Center in Fitchburg, MA.

August 5th, 2017

The Witch House of Salem is graciously once again hosting FunDead Publications for our ‘Entombed in Verse: An Epitaph for Salem’ release event and live reading! Event begins at 7pm, with readings to start by 7:30. You can reserve a copy of the book to be picked up at the event HERE. The Witch House is located at 310 Essex St., Salem, MA 01970.

August 17th-20th, 2017

FunDead will be supporting the Jewelry City Steampunk Festival by selling books at their table at NecronomiCon in Providence, RI. A portion of the profit will go toward funding this amazing new event. Shop The Grand Emporium of Weird at NecronomiCon for only $5 for the general public, admission is included for anyone already attending the convention!

September 21st-October 15th

FunDead will be attending and helping with several events throughout the NEW Salem Horror Fest! Details to come, RSVP on Facebook to get up to date information as it is available!

September 22nd, 2017

FunDead will be present at Salem Horror Fest‘s Opening Night Party at the Peabody Essex Museum! We will be part of the evening’s displays, including a very special selection of The Cemeterrarium pieces, by Laurie Moran!

September 23rd, 2017

FunDead is partnering with The Eastern Point Lit House at 261 Main St., Gloucester, MA for an evening of dark story and poetry readings. Join us for ‘From the Depths’, reader list TBA. Event is from 7pm-9:30pm. See Facebook Event for more info here.

October 7th, 2017

FunDead will be at Salem Horror‘s Women With Guts night at the Cinema Salem. We will be reading at this amazing event, which shines the spotlight on women in all aspects of the horror business, from film, to print, and all the in-between. See the Facebook event page here for ticket and event info.

No-Name

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No-Name

D.S. Thomas

No-name could have been you and, for a brief moment, you were No-name. Everyone has been, at some point or another. Suspect and uneasy features assigned to an otherwise faceless being. A boogeyman. Someone’s nightmare. For a few moments, at least, you could have been a shadow that terrified or an unexpected voice that left your victim slack-jawed and pale. You might not have been my No-name, but you might have been somebody’s.

“You’ll keep quiet or…” Continue reading

Theater Three

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Theater Three

By Ellie Brown

When I was in my early twenties, I worked at a small movie theater that showed only independent, cult, and foreign films. The theater was built in the early 1940’s and was decorated in the style of the era with heavy red velvet curtains, stained glass light fixtures, and dark wood. My co-workers were mostly college students at nearby Wayne State University or were enjoying their post-graduation “lost years”, like me. We slacked off, smoked pot in the basement and on the roof, picked the films for the summer midnight movie series, came up with cast lists for who would play each of us in a movie about our theater, and generally had the run of the place. Despite the minimum wage pay, tacky uniforms, and the misanthropy that comes with working with the public, it remains my favorite job. Except for this one thing… Continue reading

Drops

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Drops

By Lee Blevins

The first drop fell during a Buster Keaton comedy at the arthouse theater in the city nearest their town. Bertrand felt the cool plop of a single drop of liquid upon the edge of his hairline. He raised his hand and brushed the water off and chalked it up to leakage or spittle or maybe premeditated hooligansim and continued watching the film.

The second drop fell during fourth period the following day. Bertrand had placed a slide upside down a projector. One of the less anarchic students then pointed out the error. Bertrand was turning the slide around when the second drop fell onto the transparent sheet. The fluid ate through the word Indochina. Continue reading