The Death Door Stephanie Vitarelli The long and windy driveway trails up a small hill where a colonial mansion stands tall and stands alone, its four...
Last time on Feeding Frenzy… The next morning, the sun streaked into a small gap in the curtains reflecting off the minute specks of dust in...
“Expiration Dates” by Erik C. Martin “Mmm. I think this is the best coffee I’ve ever drank,” Heck said. His wife of a month, Cassidy, smiled....
Greg Turlock is a published poet, author and photographer. His credits include “Rivers of Life”, award-winning poem from the 2019 Lieutenant Governor of Alberta Arts Awards,...
Day 17 By the time Dani’s cart had clattered onto the asphalt her forearms were aching from having avoided the cart spilling down the grass and...
Last time on Feeding Frenzy… The motel room seemed decent enough. It was clean, although the air had a dank, stale quality about it. There were...
Greg Turlock is a published poet, author and photographer. His credits include “Rivers of Life”, award-winning poem from the 2019 Lieutenant Governor of Alberta Arts Awards,...
The Unkind Rewind by Gabriel Tuggle When I was a kid, Blockbuster sat up the street about two hundred yards from school. It was the...
“Alone on New Years” by Robert P. Ottone Julian’s girlfriend left early in the evening on New Year’s Eve. She was working the second of a...
“Hanging By A Thread” By Charles Rainey Gaspard Boucher died at midnight—as my death list prophesized with full accuracy, so much so that under the bold...
Lucille pulled into the station just in the nick of time. The hood of her Buick erupted in smoke as the scent of burnt motor...
Warning, make sure you read PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, and PART 4 before continuing… “Mom… don’t you smell it?” I whispered, my voice cracking in anger. She...
Day 17 The sound of the police siren was the loudest thing Dani had heard in weeks, louder than the explosions she had heard on the...
Warning, make sure you read PART 1, PART 2 and PART 3 before continuing… The ride was hard, even with the adrenaline pulsing through my veins...
“I Am Your Madeline” by Meghan Robins Emily awoke with the sun on her face, a sweet muskiness on her sheets and the sound of the...
Day 17 Edgar entered the stock room, following after the girl pushing the cart. The stockroom was darker than the store was, and it took a...
Day 17 The “office” was just a small box of a room, not built into the original construction of the pharmacy but rather a prefabricated addition....
I re-read that because I really don’t have nice eyes. My eyes are globs of slung mud and gravel on two cracked plates, yellowed by age...
Joe Roald sat at the bar, staring at the local church through the window. The signboard read a simple, chilling message: IRIS ELLEN MEMORIAL Sept. 4,...
Mom was in the garden. Louis could hear her humming to herself as she puttered her way through the flower bed. She was taking off the...