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


What’s Scarier Wednesday






By Chad A. McClendon

Bruce Kelley ran his fingers through his dust broom thin hair as he opened his corporate email Monday morning. His pants were still damp and cold from being pulled out of the dryer too quickly, the coffee burn hurt his mouth from earlier in the morning, and his boss was already complaining. He scanned his emails in order of importance, and opened one labeled Urgent Response Required; he scanned the contents of the missive and downloaded the spreadsheet attachment.

It was a report he was not familiar with, and he tried clicking on the tabs of data at the bottom of the sheet. He clicked, whispering at the sheet for not responding. His pointer on the screen turned into a spinning loading wheel, and he crossed his legs under his desk.

“Darn thing.”

He noticed a flashing icon near the ribbon and saw a warning alert. Warning, sheet contains macros. Click here to enable. Bruce pointed a finger accusingly and clicked his mouse determinedly. Continue reading

What’s Scarier Wednesday!


Down the Well by Rie Sheridan Rose



Down the Well

Rie Sheridan Rose

“It used to be a real well,” Greta said, leaning her chin on her crossed arms.

“Like, in the old times?” asked Pete, standing on the other side of the stone circle. He peeked over the edge curiously.

“My dad says this used to be a farm long back. The well went dry, and they couldn’t keep going,” she replied. “Now people throw coins in it.”

“It’s a wishing well?” He levered himself up on the wall, leaning out over the edge. “How cool is that!”

He jumped back from the well. “You have any coins?”

She reached into the pocket of her overalls and pulled out a handful of change.

Pete grabbed it out of her hand and darted back to the well, tossing the whole handful into the hole. There were a series of muted plops and a couple of plinks…there must be a bit of water left in the well after all.

“You asshole!” Greta screamed, stamping her foot. “I didn’t give you all of those. I didn’t give you any of those! My lucky silver dollar my grandpa gave me was one of those. I gotta get it back.” Continue reading