• Flash Fiction,  Horror

    Message in a Bottle

    “Grandpa what’s that?” A tiny blonde girl pointed to a bottle half sticking out of the sand. The old man stooped over to pick it up, his spine and knees popping as he did so. “There’s a note in here. Let me see what it says.” He worked his arthritic fingers to remove the cap and tilted the tightly coiled paper out, unrolling it and adjusting his glasses. The note read: “My story, which I hope is one of survival, started a week ago. I brought my boyfriend Dale here for our one year anniversary. The locals call it “The Island of Lost Souls” but we dismissed the stories as…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    Secrets Worth Keeping

    Jake could see them from his bedroom window. He watched them leave in the cover of darkness from the abandoned house across the street, panicked and crying. And then the murders began.  It started with Adam Thompson, who was found stabbed to death outside his car in a parkade downtown. Investigators turned up no evidence. There were no witnesses and no leads.  Next, Lacey McGirvin made a call to 911 at 3:02 on a Thursday afternoon. The operator heard a scream followed by a crash of what turned out to be her own car crushing her against her garage. She died on the scene.  Police requested assistance from a public…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    Smoke Signals

    LOG:  June 5, 2017, around noon – It’s been 42 days since our plane went down. Today I saw smoke coming from the northeast side of the island. I thought I was the only survivor. There isn’t much food left, and only a little rainwater remaining. The skies are clear today, so I need to make it last.  I may venture out later to see where the smoke is coming from. If it’s another survivor, we can pool our resources and come up with a plan.  June 5, 2017, nighttime – I walked northeast. After an hour I stumbled upon what appeared to be a recently abandoned campsite. The embers…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    Happy Birthday Zachary

    “Why did she even invite us?” James asked after rapping on the heavy wooden door. “She’s our neighbour.” Patty replied. “After everything that’s happened — shh she’s coming.”  They stood smiling on the step as Frankie opened the door. She was grinning from ear to ear, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.  “Thank you so much for coming!” She beckoned them inside. “So nice to have good neighbours here for Zachary’s big day. Presents go on the table there in the kitchen. And please, help yourself to refreshments. We’ll be cutting the cake soon.” She closed the door behind them, then looked at them through her tired eyes,…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    Esmeralda

    Max read the words on the curled slip of paper and his face went dark. “Max, c’mon man what does yours say?” Julien said. “Don’t worry about it. It’s stupid. Nobody believes that shit anyway.” Max stuffed the tiny slip of paper into his pocket. “Stupid? Nah man, these are legit. Henry’s came true. He got that job at Comic Readers didn’t he?” Julien’s brow furrowed, “What did his say again? Riches will befall you or some shit. Anyway, I’m looking forward to mine: Love is on the horizon.” He grinned to himself. “Maybe you’ll get lucky at Lisa’s party tonight.” Max laughed, “But I gotta get home, man. See-ya…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    The Greatest Show Unearthed

    I was walking down Hamilton Street, on my way to work, when a beetle the size of a fist scurried across my path. I leapt with a shriek at its appearance. It had ten little eyes balanced high on ten little stalks. They watched me, blinking and curious as I jumped back.  I looked to the yard from whence it came. There was an abandoned three story decrepit thing looming dark on the otherwise bright corner lot. Bushes and branches were tangled in knots, while crab grass overgrew the narrow path to the door.  Against my better judgement I was drawn to it, this grey and hulking house. I crept up…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    Waste

    “Nobody’s seen The Smiths for weeks,” Jon told Rich on their walk home from school. “My mom said they moved, but at night I can see blue flickering, like a TV is on in there. Nobody moves and doesn’t take their TV.” “True.” Rich feigned interest. They’d been friends since Kindergarten. Jon had always been into conspiracy theories.  “So I think we should go over there. I think something happened to them. What if they got abducted or died?” “Jon, I’m not breaking into your neighbor’s house with you and getting arrested,” Rich told his friend. “Okay so the legalities of it are a bit of a grey area, but…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    It’s Just Water

    The bombs fell in September. We saw the mushroom clouds blooming on the horizon and ran for the bunker. The air-raid siren wailed like a frightened child, cutting through what had been a serene summer day and pricking our skin with fear.  We weren’t prepared—at least not as well as we should have been. Months passed. The view through the small frosted port hole in the ceiling grew darker and colder. Whether that was from Canadian or nuclear winter, neither of us could say for sure. We watched our scant supplies dwindle as we waited for any news of the situation outside and we took turns cranking the emergency radio,…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    The Ravine

    “I can’t” Laura said. “Yes. You can” Jay replied, “Feel this?” he tugged on her harness “and this?” he knocked on her helmet. “Yes, but-” “But nothing. These keep you safe. I’ll be your eyes.” He touched the side of her face. The scar tissue had softened considerably since the accident. “Don’t worry. We’ll take it slow”. “You don’t usually hear about blind rock climbers.” Laura smiled, “Thanks for bringing me”.  “No sweat. Well, there will be some sweat. It’s 30 degrees Celsius, but you catch my drift.”  Laura laughed. She’d rappelled down this ravine dozens of times, but this was the first time back since losing her sight. Part…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    Le Restaurant de l’Homme

    James straightened his tie as the limousine stopped out front of the restaurant. Mr. Frank Kravenport, the CEO of Kravenport Industries, surprised them with reservations to some French place where it was impossible to get a table. It was to be a memorial dinner for their colleague Doug Longman. Cancer. “We’re here boys!” Frank’s voice roared, “Ahh, ain’t we in for a treat?” James and three others waited while Frank hefted his weight from the limo before following him onto the deep red carpet that led to the front door. An elaborate awning in matching red bore the name “Le Restaurant de l’Homme” in gold script. James hadn’t taken French…