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PseudoPod 412: Rule Of Five

Show Notes

“Obsessive compulsive disorder is far from the trivial, quirky condition it’s often made out to be. It’s a serious psychiatric disorder that can massively impact the lives of its sufferers. Through this story, I wanted to explore it in a psychological horror context whilst trying to convey the pressure and intensity of living with OCD.”


Rule Of Five

by Eleanor Wood


Adam clicked the light off. He clicked it on again. Off again. On again, once more, and then, finally, off. Sighing, he closed his apartment door and turned the key before unlocking it, opening it just to check that the light was off (it always was, by the very nature of the Rule of Five), and closing and locking the door once more. He walked, in elongated steps, the five paces to the head of the stairs, and then trotted down them briskly, counting them in his mind. Fourteen steps, of course. There would always be fourteen, unless he failed to count them. But in that event, the number of steps would be the least of his worries.

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PseudoPod 411: Flash On The Borderlands XXIII: Grief

Show Notes

  • Poor Me, and Ted first appeared in Attic Toys, an anthology published by Evil Jester Press and edited by Jeremy C. Shipp. “Every day we go about our lives navigating through crowds on busy city streets, riding buses or trains filled with strangers. Most of the time, individuals barely register in the sea of humanity. We don’t know, or perhaps even care, what lurks in the mind of nondescript passers-by. We should care.”
  • The Beachcomber was originally published in May 2013 by Dark Fuse at Horror D’oeuvres. “It is one of those rare stories that came to me more or less fully formed after spotting a strange, slightly disturbing figure ambling across a rain-soaked beach in Wales. There was no way I wanted to talk to this odd man, but, from a safe distance, I wanted to know what clacked and rattled inside his bag. He’s still out there somewhere, I’m sure. So, like all Pseudopod stories, this one is most definitely true.”
  • Sanctuary makes its first appearance on Pseudopod. “‘Sanctuary’ began as a story about fear, and how it can sometimes feed on itself and grow stronger. Later I realized it was also a story about prisons and how—sometimes—the worst prisons are the ones we build in our minds.”

Interstitial music is “Fearless Bleeder” by Chimpy, available from Music Alley.


“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” – C.S. Lewis


“Poor Me and Ted”

by Kate Jonez


Glory, Glory, Glory. That’s about the stupidest name you can give a person like me. But my mom had high hopes like lots of hard-working folks do. They use fancy names like they’re magic spells. As if naming a kid could somehow make it better than it really is. I don’t go in for that kind of crap. I named my kid John. Simple. John.

‘I know that mess is up here somewhere, Ted. I know it is.’


“The Beachcomber ”

by L.R. Bonehill


All that came back from the cold sea was Little Rosie-Cheeks. Washed ashore one late afternoon as rain whipped down from a slate-grey sky and a rough wind snapped across the beach. Face down in a rock pool, stranded in shallow water and silt. Red cheeks washed pale, white dress smeared with grime the colour of tobacco. A deep gouge cut across her forehead, the seams flecked with grit.

David held the doll now as he walked along the quiet beach. Held it by the hand as if it were a child at his side. It bumped and knocked against his leg as a litter of shells crunched underfoot. Water leaked through a split in the bottom of one shoe. He could taste salt in the breeze, the tang of brine on his tongue.


“Sanctuary”

by Steve Calvert


Raoul had been sleeping. He did not know what had awakened him. Perhaps his body had grown tired of sleep. Raoul slept a lot–too much–
but his hiding place was small and dark, so there was nothing else for him to do.

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PseudoPod 410: Flash On The Borderlands XXII: Britshock


The Day the Words Took Shape by Francesca Haig

Juggernaut Revisited by Lou Morgan

The Anniversary by Den Patrick

Kraken Rising by Andrew Reid

Party at the Witch House by Richard Kellum

The Lake by Severity Chase

The Biggest Candle of Them All by Peter Newman

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PseudoPod 409: Sideshow


Sideshow

by Catherine MacLeod


I said, ‘Is it true time has no meaning in the Labyrinth?’

‘Yes. Why?’

‘Because the tape is only four minutes long, but I’m sure my rape took longer.’

He nodded. ‘It did.’ He stared at nothing for a moment. ‘Where are your companions from that night?’

‘I don’t know.’ And it’s in their best interests not to be found. You can hear them laughing on the security tape, under the Minotaur’s grunts and the sound of tearing meat. Only one wall away, and they didn’t try to save me. Justin, Marcus, and Caroline just patched their handscreens into the camera and watched the whole thing.

Minos said, ‘Tell me what happened.’

I didn’t want to need him. I said, ‘You know.’

‘I saw. It’s not the same thing.’

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Bonus PseudoPod Halloween Flash: Jack And The Bad Man


Jack And The Bad Man

by Annie Neugebauer


Most of the year, Jack was a fine enough boy. He almost always remembered to put his dirty socks in the hamper instead of under the bed. He certainly never hid his mama’s darning needles – except for when she deserved it. And if he occasionally didn’t go to sleep right when he told his papa he would, it was only because he was too afraid of the dark to turn out his light – and who can sleep with the light on? He hauled hay, set the table, did his schoolwork sometimes. Most of the year, Jack was a fine enough boy.

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PseudoPod 408: Knife Fight


Knife Fight

by David Nickle


There are only ever two combatants in a knife fight, and each combatant is allowed a knife.

The knives are to be provided by the combatants, in a keen, clean condition free of rust. Other objects—scissors, hammers, axes, surgical instruments—shall not be considered knives for the purposes of the knife fight.

Combatants shall arrive stripped to the waist, and well-lubricated so as to keep the knife fight from becoming a wrestling match, which is unseemly.

Goose fat is considered an acceptable lubricant for the purposes of a knife fight.

Victory in the knife fight is usually decided by the drawing of first blood.

Combatants shall avoid their opponents’ faces, hands, and throats, confining their strikes to parts of the body usually covered by appropriate business attire.

In the event that both combatants draw blood from one another in the same instant, the knife fight shall be considered a draw and entered into the Records as such.

To the victor go the spoils.

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PseudoPod 407: Train Tracks


Train Tracks

by W.P. Johnson


The thing that I always ask guys is if they can get me glow. Scribbled in my father’s notebook:

glow, aka, snot, rubber, soul, bright light. Knock offs include deadlights and slag (ecstasy cut with meth emulsified with gelatin and made into a hard jelly).

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PseudoPod 406: Breath Stirs In The Husk


Breath Stirs In The Husk

by Eileen Wiedbrauk


The corn stood shoulder high on Carla as she cut through her father’s fields. At the edge of the field she stopped, took a deep breath, and forced her fists to unclench. She stared at the wooded land in front of her but didn’t set foot in it. Instead she dug the toe of her slip-on into the dry dirt, catching crumbled earth-bits in the crease between plastic and canvas, then fidgeted with the band of her bra, trying to get air to the sweat pooling beneath it. She blew out a breath. “Stop being stupid, Carla,” she muttered. It was enough of a prod for her to manage five steps out of the field and into the bordering woodland before panic seized her and she sprinted back to the sheltering rows of corn. Carla swallowed a sob. She hadn’t been able to make herself go inside the wood for three months. But she had to now. She had to. She needed to get back to the clearing–the place where she’d seen the Green Man the one and only time she’d ever seen him. If she got there, she would find him again. She was certain of it.

She scrubbed at her face and tried again. She got as far as the first pine; its thick branches reached out toward her with the rustle of the wind. Carla whimpered. She took another step. Something brushed against her forearm. She squeaked and jumped. Every muscle in her body strained. She felt her lip tremble. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go farther into the wood.

‘Green Man,’ she whispered to the trees. Tears and frustration choked her voice. ‘Green Man, help me.’

He’d helped her out once before, maybe he would again.