This week we have eleven stand alone stories and four new serial installments – including the debut of JM Strother’s Max Mann & The Black Widow.

Short stories from Tony Noland, Benjamin Solah, Carrie Clevenger, Laura Eno, Icy Sedgwick, Emma Newman, Jason Coggins, Annie Evett, Paul Servini, JM Strother and Jodi Cleghorn.

New episodes of Crooked Fang (Clevenger), Tales from Vertigo City (Sedgwick), Split Worlds (Newman) and Max Mann & The Black Widow (Strother). Enjoy!

“Megalo-Man vs. Dr. Tarantula” by Tony Noland

With all the titanic power of an atomic furnace, Megalo-Man tore the enormous uranium power cell from from the TransformoTron Projector and heaved it right at the slavering jaws of the gigantic RoboViper. Exactly as he’d planned, the positive and negative terminals of the power cell each hit one of the deadly robot’s titanium fangs, creating what scientists call a short circuit. 

KAPLOW!!!!! Read on…

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“Hard Brown” by Benjamin Solah

In winter, you don’t feel like going to work at the best of times. The ice outside keeps you in. Your bed is warm, a sanctuary, enticing you to a day of nothing.

But the alarm clock rang in my ear, the piercing yells bouncing around inside my head, amplified through the fog. And I awoke with it all running up my arms. I sat up with eyes wide, my pupils racing up and down my shocking limbs. I had beautiful skin, but it was now ghastly; specks of red and brown and wet plasma swirling around like a bleeding snail had spent the night racing around my body. Read on…

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“Ghost Host” by Carrie Clevenger

The check-in desk was polished and immense. One clerk worked at this unholy hour. I signed my name, collected the key, and declined help with my bags. The elevator worked slowly, creeping skyward at a snail’s pace. I had a business conference in less than seven hours and was hoping for a bath before bed. The penthouse suite was an upgraded offering to my executive suite. Seems that a conference was in town at the same time. The hotel’d accidentally booked my rooms. I acquiesced to the top-floor accommodation eagerly.

Everything seemed normal until I slipped into the bath. Though the water was steamy, the room grew cold to the point I could see my breath. Read on…

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“Fast Food” by Laura Eno

No one noticed the shipments at first. Brief blips on the radar of life, happening somewhere else and of no consequence to the average person. A container full of heads here, a box full of legs there; minor oddities on a planet known for such things.

The junior reporter on the 6 o’clock news in Toledo finally discovered the missing piece. To his credit, he continued to broadcast until the end. Unfortunately, only his feet were filmed; the camera dropped at the beginning of the segment by a crewmember, whereabouts unknown. Read on…

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“Unforgettable” by Icy Sedgwick

“This part of the house even boasts a ballroom, something you just don’t see in contemporary homes.” The estate agent smiles at me. She is all teeth and banality.

“Can I see it?”

“It’s not in the best state of repair, but, like the rest of the house, it’ll be a real talking point with a little work,” she replies. “The usual…a lick of paint, some plaster restoration…in fact my cousin is in that line of work himself. Maybe I should give you his card.” Read on…

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“Flying” by Emma Newman

“You were in it, and Jack, but he didn’t look like Jack, he looked like a dream Jack.”

“Yeah,” he said, barely taking in the nervous gabbling that flowed from his friend.

“So anyway, we were all in this car, and the sky was really red, like, I dunno, like the most intense sunset, like, ever.” Read on…

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Non- Prime Meridian by Jason Coggins

The hairs on Petty Officer Cash’s back were acutely aware of the speargun levelled at them. They rippled beneath the microdenier fibre of his uniform. The harpoon’s tip summoning them to stand to attention then play dead as it quivered in his captor’s hands.

The churning ocean waves buffeted the little launch. That would have been reason enough to be alarmed at a loaded speargun beneath decks. That the weapon was in the hands of a jittering, four-eyed maniac – who was prone to wildly, erratic explosive gestures – did little to reassure Cash that he – and his hairy back – would ever return to Attu Island Base. Read on…

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“Essence” by Annie Evett

The unwelcome strains of The Macarena, intermixed with stale urine and vomit wafted up the stairwell and onto the wet cobblestoned pavement. Derik shuddered involuntarily, recalling the nightclubs interior and less than fashionable range of music. Why he allowed himself to be talked into celebrating last years birthday at a disco which not only promoted its love of 20th century music but had more likely never been updated since then was beyond his normal sense of style and standards. He pulled his trenchcoat up higher round neck, shifting his eyes toward the darkened door to the nightclub.

Surely after a year’s absence the bouncers would not recall that night. Derik was shunted forward suddenly as a gaggle of mindless young things desperate to fuel their lust on the menu at the bottom of the stairs, pushed past him. One lingered behind her friends and fluttered her eyelashes at him, enticing him with a a puckered cherry kiss. She grasped his gloved hand and pulled him toward her. Read on…

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“Courage” by Paul Servini

Henri wasn’t sure why he’d stopped to read the notice pasted on the back wall of the bus stop. But having read it once, he seemed to be drawn to it so that even the most casual observer couldn’t help but notice this strange compulsion. Moreover, the notice seemed to be haunting him. Whenever anyone said something to him, he stared right through them with his grey eyes, taking up to a minute before acknowledging whatever was said.

Being new to the village I was naturally intrigued by his behaviour. Moreover, Henri was one of the few villagers who hadn’t taken me up on my offer of a free 10 minutes consultation – a bid to get my new practice off to a good start. Read on…

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“I Love You” by JM Strother

The hallway took on a surreal feel – things in his peripheral vision started fading to white, the linoleum seemed to cling to his feet, making moving forward quite difficult. Sound became super attenuated. He could hear the doctor two rooms down clearly discussing a patient’s care, the squeak of a food cart in the next hall, the sound of the nurses chatting at the hub down by the elevators. He was only dimly aware of the sight of his wife, still moving forward, pulling ahead. She paused, then turned back to see what had become of him.

He could hear the kids in the lounge singing the Barney song. Visions of the purple dinosaur swamped his head. Read on

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“She-Hero” by Jodi Cleghorn

Dafyd looked down and saw his well-worn brown shoes dangling above the storm clouds. Feeling a rush of vertigo hit him, he closed his eyes. He focused on the strong arms around him and the breasts pressing into his face as they descended through the damp. Landing as the first crack of thunder tore across the sky made the landfall more dramatic than it was. All in all, it wasn’t how Dafyd imagined he’d end his 40th birthday.

His track record suggested the end would come today – shot in the head queueing to cash his birthday cheque from him mother, who believed Satan himself controlled the electronic banking and clung for dear-life to her cheque-book. The end would come when he embarrassed his wife for the last time, showing off his low-command of French, mortifying the waitress and finding a steak knife protruding from his chest. The end would come choking on a piece of birthday cake at his surprise birthday party, discovering too late he had recently developed a nut allergy. Or at the hands of a mugger down a dark alley way after he’d stop to ask for direction when his NavMan failed. Read on…

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Crooked Fang by Carrie Clevenger

My name is Xanox Marcelles and I’m a bassist. Sounds like an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting introduction doesn’t it? I live upstairs, in a tavern lodge called Pale Rider. Feel free to kick back and listen to some music I like. Oh, I guess you’ll find out soon enough that I’m also a vampire.

I’m not a regular writer, so it just comes sporadically. You gotta have patience for this stuff. The posts are already in order to peruse, no fancy navigation required.  You’re welcome. ~ X.  Read on…

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“Tales from Vertigo City: First Tale” by Icy Sedgwick

Chapter Twenty

“The prodigal son returns,” spat Dawkins. Naked hatred burned in his eyes. Stubbs stared back, his face impassive. An ugly purple welt encircled his neck.

“You want to start explaining? Or do I have to start breaking things?” asked Liss.

“Possessions mean nothing to me,” replied Dawkins. He tipped his head back so he could look down his nose at her. Read on…

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Split Worlds by Emma Newman

Death

Luke woke in the back seat of a car. A blanket was covering him, hot and damp over his mouth and nose. He ripped it off and sat up, seeing countryside zooming past the window. The sun was low in the sky and it felt like a small creature had crawled into his mouth and died.

The last he thing he remembered was drinking a cup of tea with Anna’s stepfather, Vincent. He recalled being told that she was feeling ill, and having a strong impression that Vincent didn’t like him. Read on…

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Max Mann and The Black Widow by JM Strother

The Client

I was just about to bite into my foot-long hot dog when I heard the door to the outer office jingle.

“Anyone here?” She had a deep throaty voice, full of self assurance. There was nothing tentative about her in finding the outer office empty. I heard her step in and close the door.

“In here!” I shouted. I watched a figure approach the mottle glass door of my inner office. Her form and coloration became more distinct as she drew near. The form was just fine from what I could see, and she was dressed in red. The knob slowly turned and the door creaked open. Read on…