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Latest Stories

May 19, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jo Carroll

The Curl and Vampire

She was a pretty thing to be sure, the little girl with the curl. Her cheeks were as red as blood and her skin as smooth as porcelain. And yet there was something odd about her clear blue eyes—something empty and soulless. She sat atop her throne of building…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Nicole Robb

New Frontier

Still groggy from her hibernation chamber, Stacey checked the readings once again on the ship's control panel.She had read them right. "Tom! Something's wrong." "What is it?" Tom emerged from the back where he had been checking on the twelve hundred sleeping…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Laura Ellison

Remedy

The smell of death hung heavy and pungent in the air. Sickness touched the skin and covered it in a dewy glow that in any other situation could have been attractive. Castellan held a scented handkerchief over her nose as she walked through the village to the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Dylan Thomas Nichol

Forged in Shadows

Screaming was all that could be heard through the bone chilling halls of the dungeon. This was what the supposedly great nation of Hace really was. An ugly abomination lay underneath the stunning Admor Keep, and Caelin made the long journey through it, his…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Isabel Schwaak

Something Stronger

A thick grey stone wall separated the village of Telly Fenn from the wilderness. A narrow path led the way out of the village and melted into a crossroad, from which a crooked path strayed far into the dark forest. The inhabitants of Telly Fenn were content…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jade De-Terville

A Light Bulb Called Tink

“This is more than just a bloody mid life crisis,” Karen said clutching a tattered red book, until her knuckles started going white. She savagely threw the book onto the chequered dining cloth, and ran her hands through her untamed hair. “Oi, mind the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories April Winters

Area Twenty Four and a Half

I, Jim Roberts, got fired today. I didn’t realize Mr. Kerr, my boss, was standing behind me when I referred to him as Kerr-mitt. He failed to see the humor, and now I have no source of income. Looks like my journalistic aspirations are out the window. I…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jeremy Szal

Crimson Snow

16th Day of Regon, Year 455 of the First Dawn I could feel the cold as we climbed higher, the chill reaching into my bones. The wind whispered across the grassland, flapping my black hair over my face. I wanted to lie down. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories B.J.Neblett

Forever

“Segue the next couple of records with a jingle then go into a stop set. I’m gonna get some air.” Hy Lit flashed his agreeable smile, adjusted his trade mark tinted glasses and winked. “You’re a natural, kid.” Then he disappeared out the studio door. The…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories BJ Neblett

Pockets Full Of Wishes

“Don’t put your hands in the pockets!” Jimmy looked at his sister. It was just a winter coat, a used one. It was all his parents could afford. But it was his. He picked it out. Now he stood proudly before the store mirror admiring the blue denim coat with the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Laura Ellison

Consumed

Arlia knelt down on a silk cushion in the middle of the room. She took a deep breath and centred herself. Gramps always told her to do this, sometimes he jabbed her in the sides with his walking stick if he thought she rushed meditation. In front of her the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Paul Magnan

Scorned

I grasped the rough edges of the tombstone and pulled it from the strands of thick, yellowed grass upon which it lay. I set it in an upright position. The words “Dear Love” were carved along the top of the stone. I had carved those words. For a few seconds…

 

 

Lurching awake, gasping for air, and I've dreamt of her again. It's the same as always, lately. She's in Hell, neck deep in snake’s blood, with a foetus hanging above her, and her head is on fire. It doesn't get any better, not even with the pills.

The psychiatrist has asked me what else occurs in this dream.

“ The foetus is crying, “ I told her.

“ You sustained a serious injury in the accident. A car crash is a big deal, Tom. “

The accident...

It had been raining and we were on our way home from the theatre. Annette had wanted to see a stage play. The Woman in Black, that was it. She was twenty-five weeks pregnant. Our first.

A drunk driver collected us head on, without warning, an hour out of town. The impact was highly severe.

I suffered a head injury and Annette was killed outright. It took some time for the emergency services to arrive. I don't know how long we were there until they were notified.

Annette's corpse had expelled our baby, someone who would've been our little girl. She was much like a coffin birth, so I'm told.

I held Annette's hand. It was the only thing I could feel in the wreckage.

Her family buried them both, while I was in hospital, and her brother came to visit me, but only once. They haven't contacted me since.

The drunk driver survived and he and I were only four beds apart in ICU. I awoke before he did and they relocated him to a different hospital. His name was Daryl Hibbert.

The newspaper had a great time with the story. It was going to trial, of course, once Hibbert was well enough. They spoke politely of Annette: Sadly missed school teacher in tragic wreck, wife of senior detective, all that stuff.

Well, I'm not a detective any more.

Annette and I met a fund raiser to do with the awareness of drug addiction and teen suicide. She was twelve years younger than I, beautiful, with auburn hair, and hazel eyes. I'd rarely had the chance to have a love interest, let alone get married.

After a series of surgeries, I had to be moved to a rehabilitation unit. My progress was good, all cognitive and motor skills  seemed to be okay, except for two things. My handwriting wasn't so hot and each time Hibbert, or Annette's name was mentioned, my left hand involuntarily grabbed sharp objects, like a knife, or pen, and proceeded to stab the table, or a chair. I was completely unaware of it.

I wounded several hospital staff.

“ Hey, Tom, “ they would say. “ That Hibbert just got seven years, “ and my left hand would start going at it.

Quite soon, I was disallowed sharp objects.

Finally, I was sent home, given pills, referred into counselling.

Recently, they discovered that in the accident, the two spheres of my brain had torn from each other. This is what causes my involuntary violent actions. Apparently, I can be taught to control it by avoiding things that trigger it.

But I can't avoid my dreams, that reoccurring nightmare. That's when my hand gets the worst.

It has started to choke me in my sleep.

 

End

BIO: I live in Orange, New South Wales, Australia. I have one child -a daughter. I was born in 1977. My poetry has appeared in anthologies worldwide and my short stories have appeared in men's magazines. I cite James Herbert, Tales From the Crypt, vintage Penny Dreadfuls, and Ripley's Believe it, or Not as an influence.

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