Mr. Crabbe

Posted: October 23, 2014 in Uncategorized

The Man in the Red Suit worked for the people downstairs. There was something hungry in his briefcase. Every time it growled he fed it some paper. There were names on the papers. Those people got cancer and died.



Posted: October 22, 2014 in Uncategorized

“Do you sometimes hear voices?” The interviewer’s face was placid, almost uninterested, his voice very offhand, but his eyes were watchful.

“If you ever want to get out of here, tell him no, ” the voice whispered to me almost at once before adding, “But make sure to remember him for later.”


Posted: October 21, 2014 in Uncategorized

Last night, very politely, I asked my mother to stop calling me. I almost mentioned that we had not buried her with a cell phone, but thought it might seem rude.

Corporate Retreat

Posted: October 20, 2014 in Flash Fiction, Horror

The floor was literally knee deep in hundred dollar bills, the faces of the presidents stained and discolored, stepped on by uncaring feet. The executives walked in, slack-jawed and blank-faced, dropping their money on the floor as they stumbled in. The thing in the center of the room was waiting for them, a gigantic fleshy starfish with sexually active pseudopods. It was some horrible nightmare thing with the legs and torsos of women from the tits down at the ends of its own legs. Another exec dropped his money as he stumbled in, frantically loosening his belt to drop his trousers. With the hurried frenzy of a hungry junkie he found a place between one of the headless torso’s quivering thighs and thrust himself into her – – it. He sighed in release. I screamed.

Maximum Occupancy: One

Posted: October 19, 2014 in Flash Fiction, Horror

I woke up one day and the door to my room was gone. I beat on the wall where it used to be, but I wasn’t sure if my roommate could hear me. I tossed last night’s water out of the glass on my bedside table – later, I would regret that – and put the glass up to the wall, an old eavesdropping trick. I couldn’t hear a damn thing. In another two days I was dehydrated, desperate, and tired of the smell of my own shit. I knew I had to break through the wall before I got any weaker. What scared me was thinking I might be too weak already.


Posted: October 19, 2014 in Flash Fiction, Horror

The numbers on the face with no hands shifted by one. The clock struck noon. A panel in the stone face opened with the growl of brick on brick and disgorged a scorpion. Neck deep in the searing sand, twelve times now I have been stung. This time I was going to eat it.

Golden Triangle Afternoon

Posted: October 18, 2014 in Uncategorized

Malice awaited Alice. The rabbit hole was a cobra mouth just waiting to swallow.