Day of the Dead – Steph Minns – 4300 words (Horror)
A trip to Mexico for Jane turns into a nightmare when an evil from another dimension crosses the threshold to wreak havoc. A tale where mythology and superstition become a terrible reality.
Day of the Dead
The heat was killing, a dry midday burner, and I realised I probably should have caught an earlier bus. I shared the seats at the terminal with a handful of Mayan women all bound, I gathered, for the next town, Texcatl, where I was also headed. Colourfully dressed in traditional costumes of crisp white blouses embroidered with floral designs handed down through the generations, they mostly spoke in their own language, but occasionally some Spanish broke through. My grasp of Spanish was reasonable enough that I could follow most of what was discussed, and it seemed they were all bound for Texcatl market to sell their wares in preparation for the upcoming Day of the Dead festival.
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Watcher from the Woods – Steph Minns – 2700 words (Mystery / Ghost)
Is revenge sweet and is death so terrible or as final as we are led to believe? Jim finds out and is pleasantly surprised.
Watcher from the Woods
The smell of the woods after summer rain – I’ve always loved that. I can’t say what it is about that smell that evokes such emotion, but it just makes me feel so glad to be alive and strolling in the woods at the bottom of my garden with Bob, my old lurcher. Later in the year when it snows the woods look especially beautiful. It always brings out the puppy in Bob and his antics as he charges around, sending up sparkling flurries, always makes me chuckle.
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What’s That on Your Head – Steph Minns – 8500 words (Ghost)
Ever bought something that had a previous owner? Ever wondered if it comes with something unseen attached? This chilling story is about just that, a terrifying encounter for a young woman when she buys a wig off the internet.
What’s That on Your Head
I’d arranged to meet Niagara Falls, as she called herself on the ‘London Goth’ forum, outside the ‘U Noir’ club in Wardour Street, Soho. We’d chatted online for some time now and seemed to ‘click’ so I’d suggested we meet here. Rain fell relentlessly out of the London sky, drizzling down under the collar of my leather jacket, and crisp packets sailed like boats along the dirty gutters of the road. Yeah, a pretty dismal autumn evening in all.
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