Dead Dog

by Nicholas Ozment

Joel Coker was doing 72 in a 55, his mind re-playing the shouting match he’d had with his mistress earlier that evening, when the dog ran out in front of his car.

“God Christ Almighty!” His knuckles turned white squeezing the steering wheel; his foot pumped the brake. He’d conditioned himself not to swerve for animals in the road — he knew better than to risk crashing into a ditch to save a raccoon or somebody’s cat.

He was still going 40 when the jarring thump came. The dog stood as tall as they come, and the low front-end of the Civic caught it in the upward arc of its loping run, flipping it up onto the hood. The dog’s body came rolling at him, slamming into the windshield directly in front of his face.

Toothache

by James Maddox

He tongued the tooth and felt the slick little slivers that protruded from the cavities in his molar. He’d done this to himself, letting it get as bad as it was, he knew that, and he was about to end it himself as well; no Dr. Lynch needed. Clamp, pull, and no more troubles.

As soon as the metal touched his teeth he had to pause.

Pain filled the empty hole his doubt had created. John held a breath and tightened again on the tooth. He started pulling, slowly at first, to see what he was up against, but decided that the forceful approach was the best.

Everyone Carries a Shadow

by Stephen Gaskell

My brother’s death didn’t need to meaningless. It would be my spur to reveal the cruel practices that go for treatment in our mental institutions up and down this land. I would become a patient and expose these places from the inside. This then is the true reason for my absence from these pages. For the last three weeks, unknown to all but a select few personages, I have been a resident of Bedlam. What I discovered will sound like one of Aesop’s fabulous tales, or perhaps, more pertinently, the ravings of a madman, but I swear by the light of the Lord, all that you will read ahead is a true account of events.

Akropolis

by Matt Wallace

Danneth is thirty-six and he still dreams of it. Five of them entered the Akropolis that night. It should’ve been hot, but the stone was cold when they touched it. They wandered the empty city for hours before finally making the trek up the long, steep steps. They made their way to the highest chamber, a fortified structure surrounded by battlements crowned with twisted, unrecognizable shapes. It was empty, too. They found a room with veined walls, lines thick and twisting like petrified kudzu. The strange runes that they would come to know as runati surrounded the throne-like chair with its stone skull cap, the dome designed to open heads and burn the runati into brains.

Somehow it spoke to Danneth’s father. What it later took the scientists months to begin to decipher, the old man knew that first night. But he let them fumble with it, allowed them to study it, to begin to expose it to the world. He let them believe he was a simple farmer just happy to have made first contact with such a discovery. And when the time came that their inept ministrations were of no more use, he, the simple farmer, ejected the government from the Akropolis.

Stockholm Syndrome

by David Tallerman

Billy, he was first generation through and through. I don’t know what his story was, but when he turned up about two weeks ago he was wearing a suit, a real nice suit, he even still had a carnation in his buttonhole. I don’t know, maybe they was burying him when it happened. You’ve got to wonder what they’d have thought, when they was burying him and he got up like that.

Anyway, he cut quite a figure when he walked up Main Street in that suit. Well, not walked, y’know, I guess he shambled as much as the rest of them, but somehow he seemed kind of smarter than the others–more alert. And in that suit, he reminded me of my kid, when we buried him. That’s why I named him Billy.

Fingerbones Hung Like Mobiles

by Paul Jessup

“These woods are filled with spirits,” she said, “Not like the spirits of the dead. Older spirits. My grandma told me about them. She said that once these spirits used to help people, they were noble and good. And then people stopped praying to them. Stopped giving them food and friendship. Now the spirits are sick, and they wander these woods looking for companionship.”

Brad laughed and drank some of the vodka.

“What a load of shit,” Brad said, “Is that supposed to be scary, huh Carla? I don’t buy it. Not one bit.”

Little Man looked nervous. It was hard to reconcile this story with what we saw only a few hours ago. “Don’t worry Little Man,” Brad said, “Carla’s just pulling our legs. Ain’t that right?”

We Are All Very Lively

by Richard A. Becker

The really big cities had already been given the military treatment anyway, and that was mostly just plain stupid. Hallelujah, we used fuel-air explosives on the things! Nuked ’em! Genius! We destroyed ourselves to save ourselves, and if only they’d completely vaporized the targets it would’ve been fine. Well, apart from the fallout and the millions who died by friendly fire, that is.

You know, you really ought to make sure you move around a little bit more. It’s not our shift’s sleep time yet.

Liberation

by Kevin Anderson

It had the characteristics of a spider but looked more like some underwater creature – a mutated octopus or alien squid. The arachnid’s legs were thick like tentacles, splayed out on a chalky porcelain table. Pools of blood spotted the off-white surface and a pair of forceps lay next to the spider, providing a sense of scale. The creature’s creamy white frame seemed about four inches in length. Its color reminded Caroline of the salamanders discovered in subterranean caves. Living their whole lives in darkness, the lizards looked pasty – sickly.

Leaning in, Wendy traced a finger along the picture’s caption. “It says, it didn’t have any eyes.”

“It doesn’t need them,” Caroline said, grinning. “It lives in darkness, just feeling its way around.” Just like the salamanders.

Wendy stood up. “This doesn’t prove anything, Caroline. You don’t have spiders living in your brain for god-sakes.”