PODCAST- FunDead’s Special Episode of Life After Midnight: Strange History, Salem Style

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We had an amazing time recording an episode of Life After Midnight recently, where we discussed our upcoming anthology, ‘One Night in Salem’ with Kristin and Allison! We talked about the gothic literary connections to Salem, and about historical connections within the anthology. Listen at the link below, be sure to subscribe, especially if you’re a history buff!

LISTEN HERE!

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Flash Fiction *Barber Shock*

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Barber Shock

David Turton

Richards had just finished telling the hairdresser about his Borneo expedition when she stepped backward, her face pale and her mouth gaping open. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

Richards widened his eyes when he saw what had shocked the hairdresser. Several small, black spiders were crawling around his head, cascading down his face. The hairdresser unleashed a bloodcurdling scream as the number of spiders multiplied.

Richards reached up to brush them from his head and out of his hair, but the spiders kept coming, covering his hands, his neck, his half-cut hair. He felt a tremendous itch as they crawled up his nose and into his mouth. The last thing he saw was his own face in the mirror, covered completely in tiny black scurrying spiders. Then, a ripping sound as his face tore open with a smattering of blood and tissue, covering the mirror with a wet mess. Thousands more spiders burst out of the gore behind his face. The hairdresser fainted at the harrowing sight, as Richards’ head gave way completely, his skull collapsing outwards to reveal a giant black spider, its long, hairy legs wrapped around his exposed brain.

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FLASH FICTION *The Things We Do For Love*

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The Things We Do For Love
R.A Goli

He smells a bit funny tonight.
Sniff.
It doesn’t really matter as he is already taking off his torn t-shirt. Watching him undress makes me feel tingly between my legs. I move forward to help him unzip his jeans. He rips my t-shirt off in a desperate act of passion and it makes me moan in anticipation. He starts to kiss my neck and slips a hand up my skirt. He nibbles at my skin gently, licking and tasting, then he bites. Hard. I can feel my flesh tear and my own blood spill across my neck and shoulder. The pain is intense and I let out a warbled cry, my hands grasping his hair to pull him back. Tears prick my eyes and my breath quickens, but I resist the urge to move away from him. I love him. This is the only way we can be together.

I’m just glad that he doesn’t want to eat my brains.

He pushes me back onto the bed and then scrambles on top of me. I slide my hands up his chest, the skin mottled gray but mostly unblemished, and I look into his cloudy eyes, as he chews and swallows a piece of me. I wonder where he will bite next, how much I will have to endure before I can be with him. Be like him.

The door bursts open and a shotgun blast rings through the small room. I scream, as his head breaks apart and I am splattered in the gore and fragments of my beloved’s skull. I sit up, wiping the blood from my eyes, my face stinging from the shards of bone splintering my skin. I look down; he is still. Most of his skull is gone, his face torn away, leaving him unrecognizable. But, he smells so good. I pick up a limp arm and begin gnawing at his flesh.

I tear a piece off with my teeth and let it roll over my tongue before I begin to chew. It tastes better than the most succulent steak I have ever eaten, his blood sweeter than any red wine jus. I hear the click of the shotgun barrel as it’s reloaded and I look up, but my vision is blurry, everything has a yellow tinge. I put a hand to my chest and realize that my heart has stopped.

The man says, “I’m sorry pumpkin,” but it comes out in heavy sobs.

That’s when my slowing brain puts the pieces together and I realize who it is.

“Daddy, no,” I say as he raises the shotgun, aiming at my head. I put my hand up as though it can stop a bullet. I see it splatter in a thousand crimson pieces, in slow motion. And then everything is black.

Find more of Goli’s work on their website, and follow on Facebook!

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Flash Fiction *Night of the Lemmings*

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Night of the Lemmings

Ken MacGregor

By day, Bob was nobody. Forty-two; chubby; a greasy film clung to his skin; he was a background player.

Your eyes slid off him and onto someone or something more interesting.

But, at night, by moonlight, Bob was legion. He threw his head back, ecstatic in anticipation for what was to come.

His clothes hung suspended briefly as his new selves, tiny, furred, fountained from sleeves, from pant legs, spilling everywhere. The garments lay, discarded on the hardwood floor.

He split, fragmented into 200 tiny minds. Their unifying thought: RUN.

A moving carpet of lemmings defenestrated onto the fire escape. Leapfrogging riser-less steps, they scurried to the roof.

As one, the lemmings skittered across the gravel-laden tar. They crested the steel lipped edge and plunged.

Their hive-mind cried out: OOPS.

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My Father’s Buick

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My Father’s Buick

by David Gilman-Frederick

            Cyrus could scarcely believe his ears.

“You can’t seriously be saying,” he raised both eyebrows, “that you don’t make any decisions at all? That the Lord Jesus Christ does all your thinking for you? I mean, he chooses your outfits in the morning; they, like, magically appear, all laid out on your bed? Do you do your homework, Jeremy – or does your Heavenly Father? What kind of grades do you get?” he laughed without amusement, a friend without an r. “I mean, God what, God brushes your teeth for you . . . .”  He mimed this and then laughed again.

Sitting opposite him on the stoop, Jeremy slumped forward, pale and shivering. His skin was a sallow, hypothermic blue, despite the warmth of the early May evening. He focused on a spot on the step between his generic tennis shoes. He didn’t answer, just trembled and tilted his head in a gesture somewhere between a nod and a shake. Continue reading

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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Cover Reveal for ‘One Night in Salem’

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Autumn 2017, explore Halloween Night in Salem through a collection of short stories spanning four-hundred years. PRE-ORDER HERE.

One Night in Salem - High Resolution

From the cursed settlers to the Great Salem Fire of 1914, from the whispers of war in 1812 to the story of a bullet hole in an alley on Gedney Street. Bear witness to things both lost and forgotten in the passing of decades and remember tales of a city long gone, for Salem is different on every other day of the year. One night remains a celebration of the darkness wrapped up in the arms of specters still haunting the place in which they lived and died. Travel through time, glimpsing the Witch City on the most important night of the year, October 31st.

OFFICIAL RELEASE DATE TBA, EXPECTED LATE SEPTEMBER, 2017. Pre-order now to ensure your copy and a special pre-order bonus, TBA.

Featuring stories by:

Erin Crocker, Kathleen Halecki, Linette Kasper, Elizabeth Sweetman, Nancy Brewka-Clark, Jim Towns, E. D. Margay, L. W. Bellin, Jonathan Nichols, Jeremy Megargee, Samantha Lucero, Heddy Johannesen, Daniel LeFever, R. C. Mulhare, Steve Zisson, Chad McClendon, Kevin Lewis, Patrick Cooper, Charles Reis, Benjamin N. Thomas, Few More TBA