blogaversary, fiction, horror

Fiction: Because the Night

Kathy had forgotten it was the night of the full moon until a collar of white fur, like an ermine scarf, sprouted from her soft skin. She thought it looked stylish, highlighting the length of her neck rising above, and the angularity of her collarbones peeking below. She slipped into a shapeless shift dress, coiled… Continue reading Fiction: Because the Night

blogaversary, fiction, horror, short story, writing

Fiction: They’re Coming To Get You

Nina saw the overturned boat first, caught up in the weeds near the side of the lake, and then the dozen dead bodies sprawled naked on the shore. Dad had brought her to the park to feed the ducks, but he’d forgotten the bread, and now he sat on the bench glued to his phone.… Continue reading Fiction: They’re Coming To Get You

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Original Fiction: I Do Declare by Iseult Murphy

When Robert opened the child’s pink suitcase to check what looked like a skeleton concealed inside on the x-ray, the last thing he expected to jump out was a unicorn. Round, fluffy and fat, with a tiny golden horn in the centre of its forehead, it glared at him with unveiled animosity. The child glanced… Continue reading Original Fiction: I Do Declare by Iseult Murphy

blogaversary, fiction

Original Fiction: You’re Invited by Iseult Murphy

One moment Hamish stood in the bus depot admiring the ruby engagement ring Morris had purchased for his girl, and the very next he was squashed into the back seat of a vehicle, surrounded by people dressed in eveningwear, the countryside hurtling past the window. “Crumbs.” “Welcome to the twenty-first, Grampy Morris.” Hamish opened his… Continue reading Original Fiction: You’re Invited by Iseult Murphy

blogaversary, fantasy, horror, short story

Fiction: The Screaming Stones by Iseult Murphy

Mandrake followed the path through the snow to the screaming stones. He found them arranged on an altar at the foot of the mountain where the trees ended. Some were big stones, carved with intricate representations of people in fine clothes. Others were small, the figures simply done. Each one contained a soul. “Wait, don’t… Continue reading Fiction: The Screaming Stones by Iseult Murphy