I stare at them through the rain.   Somewhere a siren is wailing. From the streets below, angry words rendered unintelligible by distance are being exchanged. Gunshots follow. Then screaming. Car horns are being honked impatiently. Somewhere a baby is crying. The Hard Mask seems to fit much looser than before. In fact, it doesn't seem to want to stay on at all.

Killer in the Looking Glass

That's when I really noticed it, the fact that the landscape immediately around the car had changed; that it had-reverted, somehow. I can only describe what I saw, which was that none of the vehicles at the light could have been newer than a '66, and that the light itself looked decidedly retro, decidedly quaint, at least compared to the one only a block away. More, the storefronts alongside had changed, so that a Kinney Shoe Store now stood where a Taco Bell had just been, and a Woolworth had replaced an Indy Food Mart. Likewise, the pedestrians had changed-yoga pants giving way to miniskirts, athletic shoes giving way to go-go boots and winklepickers, short hair giving way to long. And it was as I observed these things that I noticed something else-the Stingray's reflection in the Woolworth's front windows, or rather, the reflection of something which was not the Stingray but which stood-hovered-in its place: a long, translucent, green-black thing, like an enormous wine decanter, only laid on its side, which glowed slightly from within its bulbous body and seemed to warp the very air around it, to bend it, to curl it like burnt paper.

The Devil Drives a '66 (And Other Stories)

Roadkill ... A funny thing happened to Roger and Savanna Aldiss on the Interstate--they hit a dinosaur. But that's nothing compared to what awaits them down the road. For something is at work to reverse time itself, something which makes the clouds boil, glowing with strange lights, and ancient trees to appear out of nowhere. Something against which Roger, Savanna, a motorcycle gang, and a handful of others will make their final stand. Prehistory lives as ferocious dinosaurs run amok! Science-fiction and horror fans (and especially B-movie lovers) will enjoy this gory, action-packed thriller in the tradition of Roger Corman and George Romero.

Flashback

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:ANOTHER MAN'S POISONMarlin BressiFEAR AND LOATHING IN ALPHA CENTAURIColby WoodlandLEGACYWilliam JensenRAINRod MarsdenSPIDERS, SPIDERS, EVERYWHERE!Bill LinkSUBSCRIBEDMikel J. WislerTHE HAND COLLECTORChristian RileyTHE SCARECROWKurt NewtonTHE SOUNDA. S. RemlandKINGS OF THE ROADWayne Kyle Spitzer

Dark Horses: The Magazine of Weird Fiction No. 10 | November 2022 - Dark Horses Magazine, #10

They were the kind of musical notes men and woman once swayed to-even worshiped to-or so Jasper had told him, ground from an instrument called an "organ"-which had once been common, or so he'd said, but had vanished from the face of the world. So, too, were there cymbals, which echoed throughout the crew compartment of the War Wagon like tinsel-if tinsel could be said to have a sound-and mingled with the steely whispers of their muskets and tanks and other gear as the truck rocked and their harnesses held them fast."When a maaan loves a woman, " sang a hearty and soulful voice both inside and outside the compartment, and Jeremiah knew they were close, else the driver wouldn't have cued the music, and when he scanned the other Witch Doctors, strapped in six to a bench in the wagon's cramped confines, he knew that they knew it too. What was more, he knew that, however fearsome they looked in their black jumpsuits and white flame-retardant vests, their goggled respirators, their buckled hats-they were frightened, too.

Enter the Witch Doctor - The Witch Doctor Trilogy, #1

"This is who we are, " said the man in the bandana, who stood next to him on the grassy hill. "And this, fellow paladin, is what we do. Beautiful, isn't it?"Williams watched as the steeples of a church burned and collapsed, then focused on a woman carrying a child from the wreckage. The stranger continued: "Don't look to us for the method of carnage-fire is of the Other's design. We only use it as a means to an end. But watch now as I show you what will happen when we descend upon your Barley-and what mercy to expect from us when we finally do. And tell me if it would not be better to simply turn around now, while you still can, and ignore the Call completely."Williams squinted through the smoke as a motorcycle burst into view and bore down upon the woman, its headlight creating a halo, its rider brandishing a sword. Then, before he could so much as cry out a warning, the rider struck, beheading the woman in one fell swoop before continuing on with a rumble and leaving the child abandoned in her arms. And then Williams was turning to the mysterious figure with the intent of killing him with his bare hands, but froze when he saw that the man was no longer there: that he had been replaced with something else, something about 9-feet-tall and covered with kinky hair, with a goat's head and six golden eyes, which vanished as he blinked-awakening with a start-and heard Sheila say, with desperation in her voice: "Will, It's Ank. And he's gone."

A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend: "The Enemy Comes in Dream" - A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend (A Serialized Novel), #5

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:GALADRA, THE SONA. Z. BurtonLULLABYSteve LoiaconiPENUMBRADanny MenterSPUDDYCorey MillerTHE QUICK AND THE JURASSIC UNDEADWayne Kyle SpitzerTHE BUG AND THE EGGNenad PavlovicTHE TERROR AT WOODRUFFMichael PenncavageTHE WATCHMANJames CrowellA POX ON THEMTS S. FulkGHOST TOUCHStephen Meisel

Dark Horses: The Magazine of Weird Fiction No. 21 | October 2023 - Dark Horses Magazine, #21

There is a byway between reality and dream. A transit we call Möbius Blvd .Inspired by the enigmatic Möbius strip, a mathematical construct that defies conventional notions of linearity and infinity, Möbius Blvd has no beginning or end but exists in a place where reality and dream have fused . coalesced . merged. With each turn of the page, you'll encounter a unique blend of horror, fantasy, and science-fiction-fiction that will challenge your perceptions and leave you in awe of the infinite possibilities that exist within the written word. Indeed, Möbius Blvd is far more than a magazine; it's an experience. It's an exploration of the infinite, a passage through dimensions where the only constant is storytelling at its most daring, a kaleidoscope of wonder and terror. Join us on this winding, never-ending journey of speculative fiction that will keep you entranced from the first twist to the last loop. Open your mind to the limitless worlds of Möbius Blvd . and discover that the boundary between fiction and reality is as thin as a strip of paper with a twist. In this issue:SEEING IS BELIEVINGGale HuxleyFIRSTNAME LASTNAMEWil MagnessON THE BUSMatthew SpenceCROSSROADSRob RosenTHE AUTUMN OF '79Wayne Kyle SpitzerTHE TIMES THAT BROKE BONESK. A. HunterSOFT SCIENCEJoseph HirschTHE UNMASKEDDaniel LoeblTHE WAY OF THE WINDRick M. ClausenTHE UNWEAVINGElana Gomel

Mobius Blvd: Stories from the Byway Between Reality and Dream No. 1 | November 2023 - Mobius Blvd: Stories from the Byway Between Reality and Dream, #1

First came the time-storm, which erased half the population. Then came the Dinosaur Apocalypse . How did it all begin? Well, that depends on where you were and who you ask. In some places it started with the weather-which quickly became unstable and began behaving in impossible ways. In still others it started with the lights in the sky, which shifted and pulsed and could not be explained. Elsewhere it started with the disappearances: one here, a few there, but increasing in occurrence until fully three quarters of the population had vanished. Either way, there is one thing on which everyone agrees-it didn't take long for the prehistoric flora and fauna to start showing up (often appearing right where someone was standing, in which case the two were fused, spliced, amalgamated). It didn't take long for the great Time-displacement called the Flashback-which was brief but had aftershocks, like an earthquake-to change the face of the earth. Nor for the stories, some long and others short, some from before the maelstrom (and resulting societal collapse) and others after, to be recorded. Welcome to the Lost Country. From "The Primeval World": I stood abruptly and raised the back of my hand-but was restrained by Linda, who had inserted herself between us. "That's enough! Please-Chris. Enough. She's not going to tell us." She backed me away from the girl. "But I have an idea . if you want to hear it." I yanked away from her and began pacing, furious at the stranger but really angry with myself-for losing my cool in front of my crush, whom I'd liked since the moment we'd met (at the Coke machine in the Community Room, about a month before the Flashback). And for sending them-Penny and Fred-to the food mart in the first place, ostensibly to save time but really just so I could be with Linda. "I-I'm sorry. Jesus. It's just that-" She came to me and put a finger to my lips. "Shhh. Forget it. All right?" I tried to look away but she forced me to look at her. "All right? Listen. We know which direction they went. So . why don't we just-take Valerie here-and go looking for them?" She turned to face the young woman. "She'll point us in the right direction-won't you, Little Miss Sunshine?" She glared at her menacingly. "If she ever wants to see home again." And she was right, of course; I knew it and the girl knew it. And so I reconfigured her bonds so she could travel and we doused ourselves in rex urine- including Valerie (for who knew how far we'd have to go or how long we'd be exposed to potential predators), and we headed out; walking up South Union Avenue toward the capitol even as Compies watched from the undergrowth and I thought I saw a face: simian yet strangely human, animal, and yet somehow not-peeking at us briefly from between two fronds. Staring at us, passively, almost meditatively, like a great ape behind glass; or a manatee through green, hazy water.

Killer in the Looking Glass

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