This morose procession ends in a massive, lightless cavern, in which the disfigured persons are forced through an arcane and painful transformation ritual that results in the addition of several new limbs, all twitching and bleached white as deep sea fish that have never seen the sun. Then, the procession attendants serve coffee and yam pie.
Category: Fiction
You Have Been Visited By the Weasel of Sorrows
Suddenly you hear it—a little knock at the door. Soft and slow, near the bottom. After a moment, there’s a tiny cough.
That’s Not a Stray Cat
A lurid purple appendage stretched out of the thing’s mouth, rolling like an alien tuber towards the tuna, sucking it up and catching the ceramic plate on fire.
That Thing Standing Behind You
There’s so little to eat, the icebox is empty
Is it too much to ask to dine with a friend?
The Snuggly Dead
Arturo’s body was never found, and that was all well and good because after getting chased around by that chainsaw-wielding maniac, he could have really used a break.
There’s a Big Demon Alligator Sitting on the Lawn
And the neighbors glared at you, of course, because they think it’s your fault.
Skulls, Skulls, Skulls!
She wandered for what seemed like forever, picking through the racks of skull skulptures and skull wine holders, skull key chains, skull mandolins, skull chaise lounges, skull guillotines, skull pendulums, skull jack-in-the-boxes.
