Micro Fiction Horror

For the month of December 2024, these are the stories of 100 words that intrigued us most.

Johanna Stumpf - Paralysis

Colleen Addison - The Harbinger

Hidayat Adams - Gender Matters

Kim kjagain Moes - Hanging from a Telephone Wire

Nerine Richter - Black Mass

Max Tackett - Lady in the Hole

Chris Scott - Living Next Door to the Torture House

Jonathan Reddoch - Winter Brakes

Steven Bruce - The Dark Passenger

Lori Green - Baby Teeth

Paralysis
by
Johanna Stumpf

There’s someone outside my bedroom door. I know it. When I hold my breath long enough - when I force my heart to stop beating in my ears - I can hear them breathing. I stare at the dark outline of the door, illuminated only by the faintly glowing digits of my radio alarm clock. I don’t know what woke me in the first place, but I have been staring at the door for minutes now. Frozen in fear. Unable to move. Two thoughts repeating over and over in my head: I live alone. And that door is not locked.

Johanna B. Stumpf is a German millennial, living in Norway. She holds a Ph.D. in Theoretical Computer Science and writes mostly weird, funny and feminist pieces. An overview of her past publications can be found on her website johannawritesstuff.wordpress.com.

The Harbinger
by
Colleen Addison

The hanging branches graze her thin shoulders, this hunched-up figure crouched beneath our weeping willow, her cloak pooling. All I can see is her bare feet emerging from the fabric, pale and with the bones nearly showing. Beneath runs the river, high-watered, as if the tears I know she sheds have added to the liquid. Down our porch, I rush, and she twists, her eyes rimmed with crimson, her hands with their sharp nails still ripping at her hair.

“Who is it?” I hear my voice’s terror.

“Oh, sorry,” she says, straightening. “Wrong house.”

Banshees herald my neighbour’s deaths too.

Colleen's work has been widely published in literary journals and newspapers. Most recently, she has been published in Halfway Down the Stairs, Flash Fiction Friday, and 50 Word Stories; and nominated for a Best of the Net award. She has a master's degree in English and Creative Writing, and a Phd in health information.

Gender Matters
by
Hidayat Adams

Eben woke to a sharp stab of pain in his groin. Flinging off the covers he was just in time to see the back legs of the scarab disappear as the insect burrowed into his body.

With mounting horror, Eben watched the beetle's progress as it traveled unimpeded under his skin.

Indescribable pain left Eben mute.

But I banished the demon scarab back to the pits of Hades!

Understanding blossomed too late in the Demon Hunter’s mind.

I used the wrong pronoun in the banishment incantation! I assumed the scarab was male.

It was Eben’s last thought.

Hidayat Adams hails from beautiful Cape Town, South Africa. He's an English teacher with more than 25 years of teaching experience. He is the self-published author of one fantasy novel and four short story anthologies. One of his short stories, "Elephant Ears," has been turned into a children's book. It will be launched in November this year.

Hanging from a Telephone Wire
by
Kim kjagain Moes

Panic spreads into a firestorm of hornets in my stomach as Emma rummages through my drawers. I don’t know what she’s searching for until she finds the letters from my former flame. She sets them on fire, one by one. Her eyes turn an inhuman burnt orange in the firelight, and her cheeks hollow in the flickering shade. I wrestle with my restraints, unable to get free.

“Please, Emma. I’m sorry.”

“Thought you were different, Ben.” Ashes from burnt letters dance between us as Emma squeezes the bottle of butane to write in cursive on my jeans: “Liar, liar.”

Kim kjagain Moes loves dandelions, exploring fresh places, and laughing at herself. Her work can be found online and in print, most recently in Bright Flash Literary Review. @kjagain on almost all social media. On writing, she says, “Write the life we live, explore the lessons not yet learned, and then, eat catharsis for dinner.”

Black Mass
by
Nerine Richter

My feet were fixed to the edge of the tar road, while James lay in the headlights of my car.

His body twitched – my stomach churned.

It was the black mass of flies and larvae that had been feasting since noon. The sound of their chewing echoed in my head.

A stray larva dug through his eye, then fell, squirming on the ground.

“D-david,” the mass croaked.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I turned away from my friend and ran to my car.

Before the black mass could move, I drove over him again.

Nerine is a South African storyteller, with some unique stories, including an essay, "SA Hear My Voice," that was published in The Life of an Entrepreneur, and "Wake Up," a flash fiction piece published in the Dark Drabbles series.

Lady in the Hole
by
Max Tackett

Pile after Pile, dirt and sand. The thick yews and maples consumed us. The stars were bright. The moon illuminated the battlefield. We were alone, the last twelve. We longed for protection, digging our hole to rest for the night. For days, we were plagued with horrific visions and encounters with her. She was white, she was invisible. Yet we see her always. I saw my partner, he was there, but not as before. His face contorted, his limbs detached, “I’m ready for duty. She waits.” I stood my ground; she was here, the hole turned white. I was overcome.

Born in 1992 in Orlando, Florida, Max spent his early childhood fascinated with all things weird and scary. His first experience with nightmares came from a Batman poster hanging up in his room when he was seven. Enlisting in the Marine Corps in 2011, Max continues to utilize his traumatic experiences for inspirations. This is his first published work, "The Lady in the Hole."

Living Next Door to the Torture House
by
Chris Scott

“Good morning!” he says cheerfully, without a care in the world. Like I had any chance of sleeping last night through all that screaming and crashing and slamming and begging and chainsawing. Like he doesn’t know what everyone on our block calls his house.

“Good morning,” I smile neighborly, not wanting to get on his bad side. I notice a trail of blood leading from his overstuffed briefcase to his house, where it’s hard to ignore the frantic pounding from his heavily fortified basement windows. I get in my car, back out of my driveway.

Somebody needs to do something.

Chris Scott's work has appeared in The New Yorker, The New York Observer, Flash Fiction Magazine, Weird Lit Magazine, The Fantastic Other, Flash Frog, and Tiny Frights. He is a regular contributor for ClickHole, and an elementary school teacher in Washington, DC. You can read his writing at https://www.chrisscottwrites.com.

Winter Brakes
by
Jonathan Reddoch

Kiley yelled at Brynn in the backseat to stop bouncing a rubber ball at the window. The roads were icy, and the windshield frosted. She was anxious to get home before the “blizzard of the century” hit town.

“Fine!” screamed Brynn who threw the ball, ricocheting off the windshield into Kiley’s eye. The car swerved, veering off the road, delicately landing into a colossal snow embankment.

They were unharmed but submerged in layers of tightly packed snow. The doors wouldn’t budge.

“They’ll find us.” She promised. “And they’ll dig us out.”

She was right; they were found. Come spring thaw.

Jonathan Reddoch is co-owner of Collective Tales Publishing. He is a father, writer, editor, and publisher. He writes sci-fi, fantasy, romance, and especially horror. He’s a prolific flash fiction author, but also writes poetry and short stories. He has been working on his enormous sci-fi novel for over a decade and would like to finish it in this lifetime if possible. He’s from southern California, but lives in Salt Lake City. Notable works included in Deluxe Darkness, Darkness 101: Lessons Were Learned, and This Isn’t the Place. Find him on Instagram @JonathanReddochAuthor or CTPfiction.com

The Dark Passenger
by
Steven Bruce

The train rumbled through the desolate winter landscape, spewing soot.

"Is this seat taken?" the disheveled man said through tobacco-stained teeth.

The child looked up from her tattered book.

"Travelling alone?" he said, sitting beside her.

"Yes, but Father’s waiting for me."

"Father?" He scowled. "So, you’re not a lost child?"

She shook her head.

The train thundered into a tunnel, plunging the carriage into darkness.

His icy fingertip scraped down her cheek.

"Shame," he whispered. "Bet you’re a delicious soul."

When the train emerged into the light, the girl sat alone, and a soot shadow stained the seat beside her.

Steven Bruce is a writer and multiple-award-winning author. His poems and short stories have appeared in numerous international anthologies and magazines. In 2018, he graduated from Teesside University with a master’s degree in creative writing. An English expatriate, he now lives and writes full-time in Poland.

Baby Teeth
by
Lori Green

Téa stumbled down the dark path, one hand cradling the infant in her arms, the other pressed against the gash on her throat. Blood seeped through her fingers, crimson stains running down her forearm like watery strokes on a blank canvas.

Her ankle twisted in the sodden ground. She fell onto the mud, her left arm still clutching her son. His heartbeat was steady, strong for a newborn. Thank God, she whispered.

Her breathing grew shallow. The boy’s cries ceased, replaced by a low growl as her eyes drifted closed.

The baby’s tiny new teeth pierced his mother’s dead breast.

Lori writes in many genres with a particular love of speculative fiction and poetry. Her work has been published with Off Topic Publishing, Blank Spaces Magazine, Quill & Crow Publishing House, Ghost Orchid Press, Black Hare Press, and many more. She studied English Literature at The University of Western Ontario and is currently working on her first novel. Follow her on Facebook or on Instagram (lorimgreen).