Monthly Archives: August 2014

Fishing, Ghoul Style

FISHING GHOUL STYLE by Pen of the Damned’s Blaze McRob

Pen of the Damned

“Just one more and I’ll have my limit,” old Herb chuckles.

The large pond sitting in the northwest corner of the cemetery is off-limits for fishing. To everyone except Fred that is. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word. The spring-fed pond is there, loaded with tasty Largemouth Bass waiting to jump on the surface plug he works through the shallows. Night: the best time to catch them because they hit with abandon, and no one can see him as well.

“If God didn’t want people catching these tasty critters, why did he have someone stock them here?” Fred muttered. “The dead can’t fish, but I certainly can.”

The Ghoul watches with amusement. To him, this man is playing with his food. A cat and mouse kind of game.

He smiles. ‘I suppose that’s what I do now that I eat the flesh of the living,’ he thinks…

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Meet the Damned: Joseph A. Pinto

Meet Pen of the Damned’s Joseph Pinto

The Road to Nowhere...

Next up in the Meet the Damned roll-call is one of our co-founders and The Tale Weaver himself, Joseph A. Pinto. Joe takes to pen and paper the way a fish takes to water. He masterfully crafts intriguing, evocative and wonderfully unique yarns of horror that leave the reader marveling over the inspiration; glancing over their shoulder in desperation; and awed at the precision with which the story is told. Not only does he strut his stuff in our darkest nightmares, but he is also a poet, lyricist, and the author of the beautifully touching contemporary fantasy novella, Dusk and Summer, dedicated to his father. Now, let’s find out what makes this Maestro of the Macabre tick!

Who Dat? It’s The Tale Weaver come to bare his soul!
Joseph A. Pinto

JosephAPinto_HeadShot_LargeI was damned as a kid.

How could I not be? As a six-year-old back in 1976, my…

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Mammoth and The Monster of Bell Island Part 3


Obscurity City Police Chief, Nancy Bull, was standing next to a deserted warehouse on Burton Street as his technicians continued their search for evidence. He pulled out an old mobile phone and pressed its keys whilst striding away from the crime scene.
It rang three times before being answered.
“We’ve got a problem,” he whispered, quietly. “Someone has talked.”
“I see,” said the man who’d answered his call. “What happened?”
“Nothing serious,” Bull replied, “but we need to move our operation.”
“One of my patrols was attempting to search your warehouse when they were attacked by a monster. He put an officer in the hospital while another has been referred to Dr. Roswell.”
“Did they see anything?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m not a hundred percent certain. I’ll let the shrink interrogate them and then pass on anything he finds out.”
“Leave nothing to chance.”
“Of course,” Bull…

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Sinus Infection

This week from Pen of the Damned comes my short story, Sinus Infection

Pen of the Damned

Ray Rasmussen woke with a start.

He dreamt that he had been having sex with an alien. The act was not sexy but more mechanical, like they were performing the act for procreation. It was pure, unemotional sex.

There was some pressure in his sinuses, but his mind was still focused on his dream.

The dream bothered him.

Did he initiate the interaction? Or did the alien?

Ray frowned.

Why was I fucking an alien in the first place?

The alien could only be remembered in fragmented blurs. It was off-white and humanoid based on the flashes of arms and legs that blinked through his mind. Ray clearly remembered the expressionless face with black reflective eyes and a small mouth.

He couldn’t remember if the alien had any distinctive sex organs.

It must’ve had them… I was fucking it.

Ray looked over at the alarm clock sitting on top…

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Meet the Damned: Leslie Moon

Meet Pen of the Damned’s Leslie Moon

The Road to Nowhere...

Who have we here? Ahhh… the one who wanes and waxes with the phases around her, the Moondustwriter – Leslie Moon. Not only is she a lovely poet, but a traveler in both body and spirit. Let’s hear what she has to share regarding what both encourages and terrifies her about horror writing.

The Moondustwriter
Leslie Moon

Leslie_Moon_blueWhat can I tell you about myself? The problem with being a Gemini (and one who writes) is that we are constantly changing like a mood ring emulating the moon. Okay, too much allegory.

I’ve lived in many strange situations in my life: some precipitated by chance, others by free fall, a very few by intent. Do you ever strain to get away from something then run to get back on board? That’s horror for me. I lived in a kaleidoscopic framework of horror as a child; I tried to shut my imagination…

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From Pen of the Damned comes HYBRID by Magenta Nero

Pen of the Damned

Scampering on all fours, the deformed arch of his spine protrudes through his flesh, the flex and buckle of his bones twisting him painfully. Night has fallen but he can’t sleep or stop for long. They are hunting him, getting closer, the more they track him the more they learn about him. He keeps his mutating body shrouded, only in the most quiet and private moments can he bare to look at himself. He scuttles under his damp blanket through the dense shrub of the city foothills.

The worst thing is the hunger. A perpetual, insatiable hunger that festers within his empty gut and grates against his bones. A hunger he has only begun to understand. The last time he was inside a supermarket his desire for human food had almost diminished completely. He roamed the aisles, restless, agitated, trying to find something that looked appetizing. He dragged dirty…

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Meet the Damned: Thomas Brown

Meet Pen of the Damned’s Thomas Brown

The Road to Nowhere...

What can I say about a young cutie who loves wine, cooks like the head chef at a 3 Star Michelin restaurant, and bakes like Julia Child? I can say he pens beautifully organic and artful prose as well! Take my hand and lets walk across the nearly silent cobbled road for an early morning visit with a man who is quietly bursting out of the gate at breakneck speed. I know, it shouldn’t seem possible to quietly burst, yet much like Thomas Brown himself, it is a complexity well worth exploring. Welcome to The Road to Nowhere… LDP!

Who is this Darkling of Despair?
Thomas Brown

Thomas_BrownAs I write this, it has just gone four a.m. The house is silent, but my window is ajar and the sounds of the outside world trickle inside: the wind in the trees, the occasional lorry making its morning rounds, a background chorus…

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WEEKLY SERIAL: The Monster of Bell Island – Part 1 by Jon Olson

“Mammoth: The Monster of Bell Island” Part One


Mammoth opened his eyes and found himself slumped beside the exterior wall of an old warehouse. Around him, there were three garbage cans and some old boxes beneath a single streetlight which was flickering as though it could go out at any moment.
“What happened?” he whispered to himself. “Did I get drunk again?”
The giant behemoth rubbed his head as a dull ache began to plague him.
He tried to think of an explanation for how he’d got here, but nothing came to mind.
There wasn’t even a trace of alcohol on his breath.
As Mammoth stood up, he realized that both the fedora and trench coat he’d been wearing had gone missing.
“Where are my clothes?!”
He sighed at the thought of having to shop for replacements as most stores weren’t prepared to cater for someone of his size and physique.
Mammoth was starting to feel increasingly uneasy.

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The Truth Behind The Montauk Monster

The Truth Behind THE MONTAUK MONSTER by Hunter Shea

Hunter Shea

What’s cookin’ monster dudes and monsterettes? Hope you’re enjoying your summer as much as I am and catching up on some quality reading time. August is the month I rest up so I’m ready for my favorite month, #Horrortober! Already putting together my list of horror flicks to watch and books to read.

When I’m not lounging around searching for my lost shaker or salt, I’ve been visiting bookstores, libraries and horror cons, talking about The Montauk Monster. And not just the book, but the real story behind the myth and how I tied fact and fiction together and injected it with a human growth hormone/speed cocktail.

Fellow Monster Man Jack and I recorded one of our get togethers where we talked all about the Long Island beasts and how the book deal came about. For those of you who can’t get to one of my talks, I…

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Hunting Season


Pen of the Damned

Janet Boxley nudged the SUV deeper into the desolate backwoods, peering through the passenger’s side window, searching for her pups’ eyes.

Once she’d made it back to camp, she slammed the truck into park and grabbed her flashlight from the glove box before stepping out; her breath pluming the crisp air.

Her sandals sank into the moist ground and mud squished between her toes. “Dammit!”

She waddled her way to the back of the rusted out Ford Explorer and lifted the hatch. Inside were supplies for the upcoming hunting season which started in the morning: gallon-sized jugs of water, some large plastic water bowls, and several bags of food which she’d either been given by local restaurants or stolen from their dumpsters.

She hated the trips she was forced to make into town, but they were a necessity. The small town was none too kind to her. She was…

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Stefras' Bridge

Because white space is so terrifying and inspiring.

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Writer. Actor. Athlete. Cyborg. Wildcard. Loves coffee and Batman.


Writer of horror/fantasy/urban/worldbuilding. All those nice things which mean I get to use my imagination.

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