By July, the body of a second Benton Boy had been discovered-my very own buddy, Colton.They'd found him in a stone quarry about fifteen miles from town-the Eureka Tile Company, as I recall-his limbs broken and bent back on themselves ("like some discarded Raggedy Ann," wrote the local paper) and his head completely gone-which caused a real sensation amongst the townsfolk as each attempted to solve the riddle and at least one woman reported having seen it: "Just floating down the river, like a pale, blue ball."But it wasn't until Rusty was killed that things reached a fever pitch, with Sheriff Donner under attack for failing to solve the case and neighbor turning against neighbor in a kind of collective paranoia-for by this point no one could be trusted, not in such a small town, and the killer or killers might be anyone, even your spouse or best friend.It was against this backdrop that I was able to break from my lawn duties-which had exploded like gangbusters over the summer-long enough to visit the Mosses: which would have been the day before Independence Day, 1979. A Tuesday, as I recall. It's funny I should remember that. Aaron's mother was working in her vegetable garden-just bent over her radishes like an emaciated old crone-when I arrived, and didn't even look up when I asked if Aaron was around. "He's in his room-done sick with the flu. Best put on a mask before you go." She added: "You'll find some in the kitchen."I think I just looked at her-at her curved spine and thin ankles, her tied up hair which had gone gray as a golem. Then I went into the house and made my way toward Aaron's room, passing his parents' quarters-upon which had been hung a 'Do Not Disturb' sign and a Star of David-on the way. I didn't bother fetching a mask; I'm not sure why-maybe it was because I was already convinced that whatever Aaron had, I had too. Maybe it was because I was already convinced that by participating in the ritual we'd somehow brought a curse upon us-a curse upon Benton-that it had never been just 'art' and that it could never be atoned for, not by Aaron or myself or Old Man Moss or anybody. That we'd blasphemed the Name of the Lord and would now have to pay, just as Jack had paid, just as Colton had paid. Just as Rusty had paid when they'd found him with his intestines wrapped around his throat and his eyeballs gouged out."Shut the door, please. Quickly," said Aaron as I stepped into his room-immediately noticing how dark it was, and that the windows had been completely blacked out (with the same sheets from the garage, I presumed). He added: "The light ... It-it's like it eats my eyes."Christ-I know. But that's what he said: Like it ate his eyes.I stumbled into a stool in the dark-it was right next to his bed-and sat down. Nor were the black sheets thick enough to completely choke the light, so that as I looked at him he began to manifest into something with an approximate shape: something I dare say was not entirely human-a thing thick and rounded and gray as the dead, like a huge misshapen rock, perhaps, or a mass of potter's clay, but with eyes. Then again it was dark enough so that I may only have imagined it-who's to say after forty years?

4 Wicked Winds: Four New Tales of Terror and Wonder

Literature & Fiction

Spitzer, Wayne Kyle

Genre Fiction

Independently published

She was in the habitat--actually in it, not seated at her workstation on the other side of the glass. She was standing before Napoleon in her white lab coat, which, inexplicably, she unzipped and shirked from her shoulders, allowing it to slide to the marshy floor. She didn't know how she had gotten there or how time had rewound so that the habitat and its great glass window were still intact ... she only knew she was there to take the experiment to the next level. And as Napoleon looked down at her with eyes that had become strangely human, she knew that he knew why she was there as well ...And then she was awake as fast as she'd gone out, and she was standing, slowly, amongst the trees again ... wondering why she would dream such a thing. And wondering, too, about the hidden obsessions each and every human being might harbor in the darkest recesses of their subconscious. And then she scanned the trees, realizing, suddenly, that they were swaying--even though there was no wind--and saw Napoleon glaring back at her.

Napoleon

Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction

Empire of the Ants (Illustrated): The Insect Apocalypse Has Begun

Wells., H.G

Dinosaur Rampage

It was a moment that would stretch indefinitely until they lay naked and depleted in the over-cab bedroom of his fifth-wheeler, which was parked in the diner's back lot, at which time she whispered, even while edging toward sleep, "Your ring. It glowed as we danced, did you know that?"His body stiffened immediately. "It what?""Your hard-to-explain ring," she said, and giggled a little. "It-it lit up. Where on earth did you get that thing? I've never seen anything like-"He sat up with a start, everything about him seeming suddenly electrified, suddenly rigid. "What color was it?"She tittered hesitantly. "And that matters because ...?"He grabbed her by the throat-not particularly hard, but enough to hurt. "What color was it?"Her mind reeled. Hasn't it always been just a matter of when? "Green. It was green. You're-you're hurting me."He released her suddenly and looked out the window. "Green ... by the gods. What shade?" He looked at her abruptly. "What shade, Sarah?"She began to inch away from him slowly. "Just -just green. Dark green, I think. It-it only did it for-"And then she was scrambling-disentangling herself from the sheets, tumbling dangerously down the thickly-carpeted stairs, climbing to her bare feet.A gunshot rang out as she reached for the door and wood chips exploded from the cabinets above her. "Open that door and we die-do you understand?"She looked to see him crouched at the top of the stairs, pistol in hand. "The best we can hope for now is to remain still ... and pray they don't find us. Now step away from the door-do it!"She stared at him for several breaths, her heart hammering in her chest, wondering if he would really shoot-if he was really that crazy."Dark green, by the gods. Thazgul ..."Yes, she could see now that he was. Could see it just as clear as day. Could see that he'd always been crazy and had always looked it: she'd just been too stupid to see-too needy, too agreeable. Hasn't it always been just a matter of when?

Equinox: A Horror Romance

Mobius Blvd: Stories from the Byway Between Reality and Dream No. 14: December 2024

EVANS, MIKE

Marcus Jr, Robert B

Richardson, Kim Frank

Morelli, Jenny

Castlewitz, David

Stember, Nicholas Samuel

Costaris, Michael

Otero, EM

Andrew, Jacob

Mobius Blvd: Stories from the Byway Between Reality and Dream No. 6: April 2024

Parker, Adam

Howell, T.K.

Kamin, J. Herrera

Salt, Valeriya

Pepe, Justin

Bayne, Maggie

Chappell, Maryanne

Adam, Hannah

Gold, Calla

Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder No. 10: April 2024

McQuiggan, Stephen

Clark, J.M

Paredes, Luis

Tyte, Kate M

Barbeau, Josh

Wilkinson, Marley

Hague, Brittany

McIntosh, William M.

Dark Horses: The Magazine of Weird Fiction No. 28: May 2024 (Dark Horses Magazine)

Salkovic, Damir

Kearnes, Thomas

Olson, R K

Benedetto, Warren

McGrath, Eoghan

Luipen, Jason Van

Gielow, Bob

Lee, Kyle Brandon

Ermi, Anthony C.

Short Stories & Anthologies

Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder No. 11: May 2024

James, Ben

Smith, Brian J.

Boyett, J.

Tulin, Mark

Cesarini, Paul

Zizza, Hannah

Peacock, David Thomas

Naughton, Peter Emmett

Bass, Curtis A.

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Books by Spitzer, Wayne Kyle