LUCIA OF THE GARGOYLES by Magenta Nero
Monthly Archives: September 2014
MAMMOTH: THE MONSTER OF BELL ISLAND Part 6
Officer Pressman decided to stop and catch his breath before entering Obscurity City Police Station. The rookie’s lungs were screaming for oxygen after he’d gone on a ten minute run that had exacerbated an undiagnosed bout of concussion.
Mammoth had left him seeing double.
Red just needed to find some clothes before he could start looking for Carl Garrett.
Chief Bull was sitting in his office at the local precinct. He had been forced to stay late after being told that there would be significant activity on Obscurity’s docks.
Bell Island had become a bigger issue than anticipated.
Nancy’s thoughts turned to speculation about what might be going down. He couldn’t wait for those damned crates to become someone else’s responsibility.
Bull’s phone started ringing, shattering the silence that had fallen on his dimly lit office.
“Chief, it’s Dr. Roswell. Patient two got away.”
“He wasn’t in his…
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Damned Words 9
How long has it been? No way to keep track. Not in here; not in this crypt. I’m sure the humans know. Once, they were prey; I was the hunter, too powerful for defeat. How long since they dug this pit and threw me in? Imprisoning and confining me to this tomb? These stone walls: built to contain; to prevent my escape. Impenetrable; unbeatable. That’s their belief; makes them feel safe; makes them forget. Time will be their undoing. Look there! See the plants? Slowly, they’ve found a weakness; slipping in through cracks. A way in, is a way out.
The time is nigh. He feels it, smells it, tastes it. The rocks encased in the cement binding the wall together tingle with excitement. Leaves growing within the cracks between the rocks turn towards the sound of foot steps.
The fool approaches. Each…
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Mammoth: The Monster of Bell Island Part 2
Mammoth tried to stand but slipped on something wet and lost his balance. This caused him to fall into a pair of garbage cans whose demise could be heard beyond the dark alley that he’d been hiding within.
Obscurity City’s finest appeared out of nowhere with their weapons drawn.
“Holy crap!” the rookie said. “What is that?”
Mammoth raised his hands to show he meant no harm.
“Please, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Holy fuck, it can talk!”
“Don’t just stand there, kid,” Carl replied. “Taser it!”
They both let off two shots which got tangled up in his thick fur. Mammoth removed each prong and then tossed them aside as he realized that attack was the best form of defence.
Before either one of them knew what had happened, their opponent had lunged for them.
His blue eyes dissolved into red as the rookie was backhanded into a street…
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Mammoth: The Monster of Bell Island Part 4
There was no traffic on the streets of Obscurity City apart from a large convoy of trucks that were heading towards its twin bridges—Memorial and Heritage. As each vehicle approached an intersection, which gave them access to both in either direction, they started slowing down.
“This doesn’t look good,” Mammoth whispered. “I’ll be caught for sure.”
Police officers were boarding every vehicle that passed through any one of their official checkpoints. The law was after an errant criminal that had disguised himself as Joseph Merrick.
“What now?” he asked himself. “I’m surrounded!”
Mammoth started weighing up his options while they were distracted.
The area was too illuminated for a dash to freedom.
He needed another way out.
Mammoth was hanging from a steel beam underneath Memorial Bridge. As each of them had been made from reinforced materials, which were designed to carry more than their combined weight, they could…
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Mammoth: The Monster of Bell Island Part 5
Mammoth climbed down from Memorial Bridge and started walking towards the docks. They were being guarded by a man who had become so preoccupied with his supervisory responsibilities that our protagonist was able to pass him without being detected.
This complacency would cause many more breaches of security before being plugged.
Upon reaching the waterfront, Mammoth noticed that a large group of men, under naval control, were taking crates out of their trucks and placing them on huge boats.
This activity piqued his curiosity.
He needed to know what was going on.
Two men, who were on a cigarette break, started walking towards him.
“Have they told you what we are carrying?” one of them asked.
“Nope,” his colleague replied. “I’m only interested in the overtime.”
“So, how long have you worked here?”
“Five years,” the first man said as he took a drag on his cigarette.
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DOUBT by Thomas Brown
Writing is a strange game. Over the last few months, I have gone weeks without writing anything satisfactory, only to find myself disgorging entire stories in the space of a morning. Months of the year have passed without fiction submissions, followed by days in which two or three stories have been accepted at once. Inconsistency abounds, and yet I don’t think this will ever change. I can’t speak for everyone, of course, but for me I feel there will always be doubt; doubt about myself and my writing. A part of me also thinks this might not be such a bad thing. Doubt is uncomfortable, it can be crippling if not managed, and create anxiety, but I increasingly feel that it is an integral part of the creative process. The day that we stop doubting ourselves – in any aspect of our lives – is the day that we stop questioning ourselves…
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ANTI-WISH by Pen of the Damned’s Tyr Kieran
The flames swayed in the light breeze of the ceiling fan. Still, they burned strong and bright. To Dustin they were scorching eyes glaring at him straight out of Hell, all ten of them. Beads of red wax rolled down the candles and pooled like blood on the iced surface below.
He wanted nothing more than to forget his birthday altogether.
His family would have obliged him, but not this year. It was an even numbered year—a check year. The celebration was more for them than for him.
Dustin was the youngest of three boys in a family bonded tight to their kin. The problem was Dustin wasn’t kin. He was adopted. Orphaned as an infant, he never knew his parents. Supposedly, they were killed in a botched break in, but the details, as told to Dustin, were always watered down or vague.
The Thompsons, neighbors to his parents…
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A Spotlight On Armand Rosamilia
SPOTLIGHT ON: Armand Rosamilia
How did you get involved in the upcoming Imaginarium convention?
Stephen Zimmer begged me to be there. He sent me fruit baskets and a briefcase filled with cash as well as the promise of pound bags of M&M’s (one plain and one peanut). How could I not go? Poor boy would be crushed.
What is your latest release and what genre is it?
Chelsea Avenue from Ragnarok Publications. It is a traditional horror novel with some paranormal elements.
Quick description of it.
“I don’t come across books like Rosamilia’s CHELSEA AVENUE often. Infused with the dreamlike quality of memory, Rosamilia here fulfills the full measure of the promise I first saw in his DYING DAYS series. Beautifully dark, this book held me entranced. I couldn’t get enough!” -Joe McKinney, Bram Stoker Award-winning author of DOG DAYS and PLAGUE OF THE UNDEAD
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