A young man's "blooding" can haunt him for the rest of his life. Especially when he's not even sure what he killed.

That Thing We Killed

Dark horse/'därk '?hôrs/noun1. a candidate or competitor about whom little is known but who unexpectedly wins or succeeds."a dark-horse candidate"Join us for a monthly tour of writers who give as good as they get. From hard science-fiction to stark, melancholic apocalypses; from Lovecraftian horror to zombies and horror comedy; from whimsical interludes to tales of unlikely compassion--whatever it is, if it's weird, it's here. So grab a seat before the starting gun fires, pour yourself a glass of strange wine, and get ready for the running of the dark horses. In this issue:THE EIGHT-YEAR LOCUSTSJennifer S. HaneTHE GARDENCarla WardTHE TORTURED WAIL OF MACHINESLamont A TurnerTHE WITCH AT KHOLAT SYAKHLT. K. HowellTHE RETURNWayne Kyle SpitzerTHE PAINT GODS MUST BE ANGRYSabina MalikTHE HEARTBEAT BETWEEN USA. E. S. THE ENTERTAINERSR. OstermeierSUPERMAN AND THE HOLLYWOOD WITCHT. K. HowellSWEET PETUNIAEdward Ahern

Dark Horses: The Magazine of Weird Fiction No. 17 - Dark Horses Magazine, #17

Extreme Horror Tales from the Edge ... Minus the Boring PartsAnd then he was sliding down, down, leveling off briefly, then down again, and he couldn't help but notice that the people he had planned to rule were fleeing now, and that the Nano-T had broken off its engagement with the tiger long enough to snap at them and give chase, and that in its absence the great feline had turned its mighty head to face the bottom of the slide and opened its maw, which was mottled pink and black, and that he was helpless to do anything but continue sliding toward it-until his kicking feet and legs were trapped between its terrible, curved fangs and its central incisors bit mercilessly into his abdomen (which crunched and splattered and was ripped in two as his bowels exploded outward and his heart and lungs and spleen steamed on contact with the air) and blood erupted from his mouth only to gurgle back inside and choke him. And then the darkness engulfed him completely and he felt himself slithering between its throat muscles and down its gullet-into the burning blackness of its stomach, where he saw by a brief and inexplicable light the dead face of the man the cat had eaten earlier in the day, and knew at last that he walked the earth no more.

Death Scene | Stories That Take Place at the Moment of Death

Welcome to Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder, an extraordinary anthology magazine that transcends the boundaries of science-fiction, fantasy, and horror. Prepare to embark on a thrilling journey through the darkest corners of the human imagination, where the ordinary becomes extraordinary, and the mundane transforms into a realm of unspeakable terror and awe-inspiring wonder. Within these pages, you'll discover a collection of captivating stories carefully curated to transport you to realms beyond the mundane. Each issue presents an array of unique tales crafted by talented visionaries, both established and emerging, who dare to defy conventions and push the boundaries of speculative fiction. Whether you're a seasoned lover of the fantastic or just curious to explore new frontiers, Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder will be your guide through the realms of the extraordinary. Prepare to be enthralled, enchanted, haunted. So put on your dark sunglasses . and unleash your inner Black Sheep. In this issue: THE MEAT LOCKEREvan Kaiser BLOOMDL Shirey MAN/MAIDR. A. Daunton DINNER DATE AT VERNA'SRick Sherman EQUINOXWayne Kyle Spitzer ITCHMargaret Cotter REDMason Yates RENDEZVOUS WITH STRANGELOVEMatt McHugh THE AREOPAGUS OF THE SKYLäilä Örken WHEN HENRY FORD HIRED THE INVISIBLE MANMaureen Mancini Amaturo

Black Sheep: Unique Tales of Terror and Wonder No. 3 | September 2023 - Black Sheep Magazine, #3

She focused on her breathing, trying indeed not to hyperventilate, but feeling as though her heart might punch through her chest at any moment. The spot where he had touched her seemed to burn and freeze at the same time."You don't remember . do you?" His brown eyes suddenly twinkled and he shook his head. "No? You don't remember calling on me in the depths of those first awful nights, when you were at your most exposed, when you were at your most vulnerable?" He stroked her long, brown hair with an almost impossible gentleness; it was as though a cool-warm breeze rifled it rather than his fingers. "When it was just you and the boy . alone, scared. Cold. Hungry?"She began to shake her head almost violently, her breathing and heartrate accelerating once again."Oh, yes, " he said, squinting, smiling. "You did. All the world did. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You called on many during that time, in those hours and days and weeks after the Flashback-you wouldn't have been aware of it. And you cursed the One who had brought it upon you . who had taken your husband and your daughter; who had taken so many husbands and daughters. It's okay. We-we don't judge. Not like them, " He looked at the hazy sky and the alien-colored lights, at the sun itself which was a white disk in the smoke. "Not like Him."

A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend: "The Slim Hand of the Past" - A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend (A Serialized Novel), #8

I had a dream. In the dream I was running, I and a thousand others, through the Nevada desert. It's open range out there: no fences impeded us, but the cows scattering before us slowed our passage, tripping us up. They mooed in terror even as we cried out, but they weren't afraid of us so much as the Shadow behind us all. That shadow was an army, led by Ronald McDonald. He was grinning, leering even, blood-red lips frozen in a rictus. At his side was Jack, fell head bouncing. Little Wendy squeezed between them, screaming like a Valkyrie, braided red locks flying. They were a Calvary; they were riding Rainbeer. Their hooves churned up the dust through which burst a million antenna balls, cackling, bouncing, leaping .Behind them marched a sea of corporate shock troops, wave after wave, briefcases in hand. Trumpets sounded, like something from The Lord of the Rings, heralding the return of the Burger King-Ahead of us the cows starting vanishing, dropping from the face of the world. "It's a stampede!" someone cried, terrified. There were screams that fell away sharply. We had come to a sheer drop-off-a few of us having realized too late. There was nowhere left to run. Above us, like vultures, attack helicopters circled. Turning to meet my doom, I saw that Ronald McDonald had become former President Ronald Reagan."Well, " he said. "How about it?"

How About a Coke and Some Fries?

They streamed out from the tree line in a veritable blitzkrieg, the guns of the tanks rotating and firing, the foot soldiers alternately taking cover behind vehicles and squeezing off bursts, the raptors and triceratops and stegosaurs charging-as Red and Charlotte and Roger and Savanna continued shooting and the children ran ammo and Bella lit the gasoline trenches, as Gojira and the clerk prepared shoulder-mounted rocket launchers. As hundreds of others joined the battle belatedly and began to kill and to be killed. And then they were there; they were at the gates, and the triceratops and stegosaurs had waded into the burning trenches and begun serving as bridges-sacrificing themselves so that the raptors and the foot soldiers could cross-even as a column of bulldozers fanned out along the perimeter and prepared to break the lines for good: dropping their blades-which rattled and clinked against the hail of gunfire-revving their engines, spewing black smoke."Bayonets!" cried Red as the raptors fell upon them, thrusting his own so that it skewered one of the dinosaurs like a shish kabob even before he used its own weight and momentum to swing it over and behind himself.

The Complete Flashback Saga

They both felt it at the same time, even as the train lurched forward and the cars jolted thunderously-a tremor in the very fabric of things, like a ripple in a foam of potentiality which contained in it the threads of all their possible futures. Something, somewhere, had just happened-something directly related to their current endeavor of delivering the bomb to Barley and detonating it amidst the Enemy. communicated Ank, still smarting from his struggle to climb onto the flatcar with the added weight of the weapon."You felt it too? Like one door closed and another had opened, but with disastrous consequences, for us all ." Williams looked at him, rattled and bewildered. "Ank, how could we know that?""Ank, don't."Williams leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose. "Our friendly engineer, in case you haven't noticed, is clearly insane!"And then Williams was leaning over the side using one of Ank's spikes for a handhold while simultaneously yelling at the engineer, who poked his head out the engine's side window, his long, gray hair flying, and shouted, "You want speed, you got it, ha-ha! The world, she's a comin' back, yesiree!" He sounded the horn suddenly and Williams covered an ear, even as his hat blew off and fluttered away behind them. "The New World Special is back in service-and it's taking its passengers to the Promised Land! Ha-ha!"

A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend: "The Demon and the Avatar" - A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend (A Serialized Novel), #9

Elton John once sang, "And all this science, I don't understand. It's just my job five days a week." That's how it is when you're a Crash Diver: you don't need to understand blue holes or how they differ from wormholes and black holes or what a mobius mirror does-only that it must work, every time-because, at the end of the day, that isn't your job. Your job is to be a guinea pig: to be shot into the vortex at near light speed and experience what effect blue hole-assisted mirror travel has on the human body and psyche. Your job is to penetrate to whatever depth they've set the mirror-and, if you're lucky, to enter that mirror and get bounced back. It hasn't always been like this. Before there was Zebra Station-with its luxurious gravity centrifuge and its row of black and yellow delta divers hanging like bats from the launch jib-there was Blue One, a sparsely-manned outpost which had sent the first human souls into the maw of the blue hole, men who had come back white-haired and emaciated, debilitated-mentally and physically-mad. The Crash Diver Program changed all that. From now on only specially-trained pilots would be sent into the Hole, pilots who had the benefit of the first men's experiences as well as spacecraft designed specifically for the task. A lot was learned in a very short time-one of these things was that men who entered the vortex experienced a series of hallucinations, or Dive Visions, in which they briefly felt they had become someone or something else: a soldier in the Holy Roman Army, say, or a person of the opposite sex. Some even purported to have become animals or alien lifeforms-it was the latter which had apparently driven the men of Blue One clinically insane.

That Thing We Killed

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