Playing with Fire (Anthology of Horror)
Page 1
Welcome to
, anthology of horror, volume I. Playing with Fire
Scare easily? Are you often frightened out of your sleep? Does the mere mention of ghosts prickle your skin?
These seven authors' imaginations are fired up by the scariness of the unknown.
Find a comfy spot, sit back and enjoy nine tales to tickle your taste for terror.
Table of Contents
Susan Evelyn - Best Served
Revenge is sweet, they say. But is Anna going to be able to hold the right ones accountable?
3197 words
Robynn Gabel - Widows of the Night
Step inside a child's world that is filled with monsters. In her struggle to search for and figure out what love is she will discover what a monster really is.
3375 words
Nomar Knight - Bitten
Rob Compton is unemployed and on the verge of getting a divorce when his pet German Shepherd, Shotgun, comes home intent on having him for lunch. Once bitten, Rob decides to show his wife what 'death do us part' really means.
2937 words
Anita Flame - Playing with Fire
During what seems to be the end of the world for others, Kalen discovers his has only begun. Appalling secrets unravel his world and force him to fight for his survival. Will Kalen be able to handle the truth?
5285 words
Coral Russell - Devil of a Ghost Tour
Lynn and Lee Hoyt decide a local ghost tour would be a fun date night. In an abandoned hotel on the tour, a demon and his minions have been waiting for just the right couple to come along. Can the ghost hunters, Hector and Marcos, save them before it's too late?
9751 words
Coral Russell - Key to a Haunting
Allen has lost everything, when his father gives him a downtown building to renovate. Trouble is...it's haunted. He calls in the Paranormal Posse to help, but can Hector and Marcos learn the truth in time to finally put the dead to rest?
9824 words
Coral Russell - Amador Lockdown (excerpt)
Something has moved into the Amador Hotel and is wreaking havoc with anyone who tries to stay. Hector, Marcos, Bev, and Tony of the Paranormal Posse are called in to either debunk the stories or get rid of whatever is causing the problems. Hector's life is an uproar and while he tries to keep his professional and personal life separate, whatever is haunting the Amador Hotel has other plans.
Brian Fatah Steele - Flawed
When three generations of Gastlins gathered one weekend at a newly purchased home in 1998, they had no idea it would be their last reunion. Every family has its secrets, its little faults, but the skeletons came bursting out of the closets and grew infectious. Blood may be thicker than water, but it can still spill just as easily.
4328 words
Brian Fatah Steele - The Stuff Dreams Aren't Made Of
When your only hope is to suffer less than the day before, when misery is a normal state of being, and when atrocities greet all your senses every day, you only have to find new ways to dream.
1327 words
Chryse Wymer - This Dark Magic
Charlie Landers is a reporter for the Capital City Gazette when his hometown turns deadly. It begins with a blackout, and escalates to a crime rate so high that it's a miracle that anybody has lived to tell about it. Finally, he must do something when not only his life but the life of a loved one is threatened. In this quirky dark fantasy, Charlie Landers must navigate a dangerous world of black magic in order to save his little corner of the universe.
9780 words
Chryse Wymer - Living with Murder (excerpt)
Kirk and Mary Miller live a simple life in the year 2035...until their college-aged son turns up dead. Before long, everything they thought they knew about their child changes. Their son's murderer is convicted and jailed, but a year later, The Agency for Privately Imprisoned Criminals becomes involved. The Agency had been formed when prison overcrowding grew out of control. It was an agency meant for non-violent, primarily first-time offenders, in which criminals can live with their victims or victims' family as part of their rehabilitation. But John Marks found a loophole in the system: blackmail. And when a murderer comes to live with you, anything can happen.
DEDICATIONS and INFORMATION
Best Served
by
Susan Evelyn
Are they the ones?
Anna observed the clientele in the pub. She had dismissed all but a few groups around the pool table from the range of possible suspects.
Are they the ones?
The question echoed through her mind with each fresh observation of the suspects' movements and interactions with others. Anna's natural appearance of physical frailty bound to snap in the first winter wind made her a perfect target. She waited for one of them to betray himself and his mates. Nothing could be done until then.
Ordering a drink provided a reason for being there. She eyed the strangely colored concoction with some suspicion after having specifically chosen one garnished with a sprig of parsley. Like the cocktail with its fancy straw, the place was pretentious and aimed to attract junior executives and wealthy students with its touches of opulence.
After toying with the greenery to mask her concentration, Anna mouthed a single word before eating it. The herb negated the adverse cumulative effects of alcohol, thus extending her observation time.
Normally Anna would never consider coming to a place such as this. Her kind worked in isolation away from the powers and hubris of peers as much as from the inquisitive eyes of average people. Actions abhorrent in regular society, let alone those who valued life as the prime force of the universe, had conspired against such solitude.
Anna stifled a shudder of revulsion at the memory of recent news reports. The inclusion of her friend and fellow student among the several young women who had died recently in this city, brutally and alone, had made this quest, outside her usual solitude, necessary.
Subtle questioning and patient research had led her to this bar. Patronage of this particular watering hole was a common factor in the last activities of the victims.
With a fresh cocktail in hand, the new patron moved to a seat right next to her selected subjects at the pool table. Anna studied how they played--the way they held the cue and arranged the balls, the manner in which they talked to each other and their opponents. She paid particular attention to their reactions when faced with a win or a loss.
Though the game was new to her, Anna was soon impressed by the skills on display. She gasped as one person's ball struck another before disappearing into a corner pocket. The player caught her eye and winked. She smiled back before ducking her head in feigned shyness.
"Excuse me. Do you mind?" a stranger asked.
Failing to comprehend, Anna frowned.
"I need a little room for the cue," he explained. "And I don't want to hit you by accident."
Anna quickly stood so he could finish his play.
"Thanks," he said. "You're new here."
"Yes," she confirmed, meeting his gaze. He seemed about to begin a conversation but was called back to the game by his teammates.
"See you later if you're still here." The young man indulged her with a smile.
A few of them spoke to her in like manner and each time she acted shy, yet friendly. Her observations broadened to include those watching the games and their interaction with the players.
More than once Anna wondered what she was doing. The scheme to catch the culprits had originally play
ed out differently in her mind. Frustration at the lack of progress in identifying the potential candidates allowed doubt to form fine cracks in her resolve.
Whatever made her think a solitary mage had the ability to solve the mystery that puzzled skilled police investigators?
With a deep breath, Anna renewed her pledge to uncover the deviants. As a loner walking the edges of society this student of the magical arts refused to admit defeat when it was now so important to her.
Several customers started to leave, some weaving in an approximate forward direction of uncoordinated feet. Three groups of interest remained. For simplicity's sake, she labeled them A, B and C.
The A's were a tight set of three individuals who held themselves aloof of other company: well dressed, well-groomed, disdainful and a touch snobbish. They had been included because of the chill shadow that crossed her soul whenever she concentrated on them. Her immediate impressions led her to believe they may be vampires. However, by magically boosting her perceptions to prove the assumption, she would leave an arcane footprint discernible by any other extra-sensory users. An ill-advised action with so many people around.
The B mates were big, boisterous fellows. The five made considerable noise as they jested with one another. They shouted advice and jibes across the room, and parried mock jabs with the pool cues until the bar staff frowned a warning. One of the boys caught her eye and winked in good humour.
Despite the veneer of friendliness and fun, Anna was aware how easily wild emotions rage out of control when mixed liberally with alcohol and the addictive rush of heady adrenaline. They were conceivably capable of massive damage if thwarted in their intentions.
Anna sensed a distinctive physical power in the waves of energy emanating from them. Their life force tasted of werewolves. She hoped they were not the ones, as they would not take kindly to a mage interfering in their activities.
Group C was another story. She added them due to the unease they evoked in her even though they were polite and friendly. They had offered to share a drink with her while they waited for their turn to use the pool table. Their spokesperson even extended an invitation to join their team. Anna declined and one of the B boys played the fourth position in her stead.
The night's activities were drawing to an end when the bar staff began their clean up routines. Anna left the establishment as the last pool match finished. The plan called for her to be ahead of any who may intend her harm.
Winter was fast approaching. The sudden cold ripped away her residual warmth as if her bones had turned to ice. The unpleasant winds clawed at her clothing and hair.
Under usual circumstances, Anna would have enveloped herself in a shroud of warm air and been impervious to the weather. Tonight, though, as the prospective victim, her notion was to project a weak and defenseless image, which included shivering in the icy blasts.
She remained conspicuous from the doorway and street windows for as long as possible. Hair whipped around her head as she hunched into the cold wind and clutched the coat closer to appear all the more vulnerable.
Anna imagined any potential attacker would see a single woman cross the road beneath the dim orange glow of a street light or pass in front of the harsh glare from a shop window heavily grilled to thwart potential thieves.
Turning a corner into a poorly lit side road, Anna paused. The mage willed her heart to stop its furious pounding while she strained to listen for signs of pursuit. Was that the sound of several sets of feet heading in her direction?
Anna resumed walking at a steady pace without a glance backwards, for all intents blissfully ignorant of anyone nearby. She even stumbled on the broken pavement to give the appearance of being a trifle intoxicated from the drinks downed while at the pub.
Anna was a few blocks from the pub before she cautiously extended magical senses to check for followers. The measured footsteps continued, but maintained a reasonable gap. She tuned out her heightened senses before identifying whom the person might be, just in case one or more also had supernatural abilities.
Anna chose to turn onto a long straight road in order to remain in sight of possible pursuers. A shiver not related to the weather rippled though her. She was now very close to where the last victim had been attacked and left to die.
The site of the murder made her pause. Anna had not thought through her plans to an end. She only wanted assurance that anyone who attempted to detain her was indeed the murderer she had set out to find. The perpetrator's response would give her the freedom to retaliate if necessary.
As she pondered her course of action, the magic center of her mind sensed ripples of energy. She was approaching a park, a rarity in this built-up urban neighborhood.
I'm almost there. If I reach the park, then one of two things will happen - I am wrong about the persons following me and will have to repeat this charade another night or they will have lost before they begin.
The pure life-force reverberating from the park's wide expanses of green was the fuel of her magic. With her special talents centered on the power of life, the gardens further improved her considerable advantages.
Head bent to protect herself from the wind, she approached the entrance to the park.
"So. We meet again. I think you will be joining us for a game this time."
Anna was startled as someone stepped in front of her. She gulped a lungful of cold air before straightening to face the speaker.
He laughed, a deep rasping timbre adding to the threat.
Anna cursed inaudibly for not having paid closer attention to her surroundings, but she hoped her reaction had shown suitable surprise. This was one of the C boys.
Had the others come too?
Yes , sparing a moment's concentration, Anna heard the other two closing from behind, forming a triangle around her. She did not dare look at them, determining it better if they thought their prey was unaware of their proximity.
Anna kept her voice light and attitude casual in the hope the speaker might give himself away early in their encounter.
"I'm all washed out tonight, fellas. Just on my way home. Maybe next week. See ya'," Anna said. Sweeping the loose hair out of her face with one hand, she moved to walk past him.
He seemed a little put off guard by such an unexpected reaction. Blinking once, the ruffian regained his composure and grabbed her forearm in a nerve wrenching hold.
"Oh, very cute! But that's not the sort of game I mean. And you know it," his snarl rivaled a cement mixer. Smarmy giggles and snorts drifted toward her from behind.
Are these the ones?
They were guilty of something, that was certain, but of the current series of murderous assaults?
Squirming in his grip, Anna tried to pull away. His fingers dug in, bruising her skin. There was still a lot to find out before she escaped. She kept the struggles to actions appropriate for a frightened slip of a girl and added a little whimper as the man's grasp tightened and twisted her flesh.
The park gates were too far away to seek refuge. The streets were empty save for her and the three men. The buildings were shuttered tight against the cold and dark. Their blank eyes offered no sign of help, silent witnesses to the crimes perpetrated in their shadows.
Anna was utterly alone with her attackers. A rapid reassessment was necessary before the situation spiraled out of control. The realization of her physical vulnerability tightened across her chest crushing the breath from her lungs.
On the surface these ruffians presented nothing extraordinary. At best, they might simply be an over-zealous bunch of drunks made courageous by the recent crimes. At worst, they may be a gang of hoodlums with underworld connections to other vices. Unless, of course, unless . . ..
Are these the ones?
The persistent question that had driven her to actively seek out her friend's murderers echoed in her head.
The hot breath of her captor on Anna's face subdued her struggles. Blurred red with alcohol, his eyes filled her vision. The savage intensit
y of them seared past her retinas and etched an image deep inside her brain. Aware of his every move, Anna's senses delved into his mind to experience his thoughts and emotions, to view his motivations.
Her magical awareness extended into his memories to leaf through them like pages in a book: the chapter when he began as the school yard bully, the pages where he graduated to a teenage hooligan. The key events followed the standard pattern of the adolescent rebel, then the fanatical youth, and finally, the angry young man.
His foremost thoughts were violent and furious, vicious and sadistic, callous and cruel. Even his attempts at lovemaking were unnecessarily rough and brutal. He took satisfaction in dominating the weak, and an unnatural pleasure in tasting their torment. He had no community or social conscience, nor any control over his anger.
In renewed efforts to escape, she bent her knee upwards to connect with his groin. He grunted with the jab of pain and loosened his hold just enough for Anna to shake loose and stagger backwards from him. Her arm ached from his tight grip.
He was angry now. His hot, raw emotions swept through her. The arcane link into his mind held firm, but the necessary proof had not yet manifested in his thoughts. A knife appeared in his hand from somewhere concealed on his person.
He lunged at Anna. Threatening her. Mocking her. He still had time to play some more. Victory was not as enjoyable when the prey did not cower before him. He wanted to hear begging and sobbing before the screams began.
Disoriented for a moment by the dual vision playing in her mind's eye, she managed to dodge the first thrust and brought her uninjured wrist down hard on the back of his fist. The blade fell and skittered away. He tried to reach for it but a well-aimed kick pushed it out of range. The weapon slid into the darkest shadows.