Veteran Horror Dedication: Herman Sisk’s “The Purple Heart”
“A sudden terror seized me. I turned to beseech the old man to let me go, but he was not there!.”
—Herman Sisk (The Purple Heart)
Tag: eerie
Rare Haunted House Horror: Farnsworth Wright’s “The Closing Hand”
“Haunted houses are nothing but superstition. They exist only in the imagination.”
—Farnsworth Wright (The Closing Hand)
Best Halloween Horror–Episode 10: Jeffrey LeBlanc’s “Hell’s Forge-Chapter 1”
It was the indignant grins of the liches that made him aware. Jovial secret jests as the cretins observed the pitter of dripping water from the funeral home’s roof onto his dead wife’s waxen face. In that callous moment with this crowd of sycophants, Roger almost turned maniacal. Grumbling in a rage, he saw the owner—Trampus Hock, run to wipe the water from her cheek. –Jeffrey LeBlanc (Hell’s Forge)
Best Halloween Horror–Episode 8: Lord Byron’s “The Vampyre”
“Unquenched, unquenchable,
Around, within, thy heart shall dwell;
Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell
The tortures of that inward hell!
But first, on earth as vampire sent,
Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent:–Lord Byron (The Vampyre)
Best Halloween Horror–Episode 7: Lord Byron & Robert Burns
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;–Lord Byron (Darkness)
The Skull & Bones Collection: Thomas Swafford’s “Rubbed The Wrong Way”
“It was like something out of an apocalyptic movie. The only cars to be seen were parked. The streets were completely empty, not a person was in sight. “Has there been a disaster?” she said out loud.”—Thomas Swafford (Rubbed the Wrong Way: Put Some Thought Into Your Wish)
Nightmare Horror Tales: Clark Ashton Smith’s “From the Crypts of Memory”
“And one by one we died and were lost in the dust of accumulated time. We knew the years as a passing of shadows, and death itself as the yielding of twilight unto night.”—Clark Ashton Smith (From the Crypts of Memory)
The Most Horrific Ghost Tales: Ambrose Bierce’s ‘The Stranger’
“The man repeated the names slowly and distinctly, as if to fix them in the memories of his audience, every member of which was now attentively observing him, but with a slackened apprehension regarding his possible companions somewhere in the darkness that seemed to enclose us like a black wall; in the manner of this volunteer historian was no suggestion of an unfriendly purpose.”—Ambrose Bierce (The Stranger)
Witchcraft Horror: Clark Ashton Smith’s “Mother of Toads”
“There was a deep soft thundering in his ears, a rosy dazzlement in his eyes. Somehow the hut appeared to expand, to change luminously about him. He hardly recognized its squalid furnishings, its litter of baleful oddments, on which a torrid splendor was shed by the black candles, tipped with ruddy fire, that towered and swelled gigantically into the softgloom His blood burned as with the throbbing flame of the candles.”—Clark Ashton Smith (Mother of Toads)
Arctic Howling Horror: Hugh B. Cave’s “Two Were Left”
“Nimuk came closer. Noni saw fear in the animal’s gaze. He could see hunger and suffering in the animal’s labored breathing and awkward movements. Noni’s heart wept. He hated himself and fought against it.”—Hugh B. Cave (Two Were Left)
Horrific Pirate Vampire Tale: Jeffrey LeBlanc’s “The Devil of Black Bayou Special Edition” Chapter 2
“I’m starting my journey across the waves of time! The blood is my time machine and my portal to the dimensions beyond. I see my loving, raven-haired wife. She is bathed in the foam of sea spray and blood. Lightning flashes around us in arcs of blistering white. Lightning etches around us in emerald green, A final blast paints us in a shade of deep blue. In the moments, between light and darkness, giant pinchers have grasped Marie’s flesh pulling her below! A glowing mauve pool of slime remains. A single hand floats above the sea and then submerges into depths below.
I float back to the present lashing out at the night air. I wrestle with imaginary phantoms who lurk back into that accursed moment in time when my wife was lost to me. I curse and send a glass breaking roar as I fight the ghost of an oozing leviathan who dissipates into mist.”
–Jeffrey LeBlanc (The Devil of Black Bayou Special Edition)
Jeffrey LeBlanc 