KILLDEERby Ted Ludzik The tires on the rental car crackled over the shoulderâs gravel. Ellen killed the engine. The silence laid as wide as the surrounding Saskatchewan plains. The skyline was a blazing blue, broken by long bone-white clouds. TheâŠ
IâM SCARED OF THE HALLWAY by Tamika Thompson My two-year-old runs barefoot through the hall, his soles like thunder as they pound the oak planks. âMommy, I’m scared of the hallway.â He exits the dim space, closes his eyes andâŠ
by James Newman Berberian Sound Studio isnât a film that I can recommend to every horror fan. Why? Because itâs not really a horror film at all. But it is about giallo films, those lurid tales of black-gloved killers made byâŠ
INVASIVE SPECIESby Stephen Howard It was the green glow creeping in through the curtains that had Cassie restless. Something the size of a dog scuttled around their pond. Bright green and frog-like, but a giant frog, a frog you couldâŠ
COLD INSIDEby D.A. Cairns âThey call this reality TV?â said Eddy, as he lifted a can of Victoria Bitter to his mouth. He dipped his head so he could reach. âThey wouldnât know reality if it slapped them in theâŠ
by James Newman Unlike most horror fanatics, I didnât roll my eyes when I heard Alexandre Aja (Haute Tension, Piranha 3D) was producing a remake of William Lustigâs sleaze-classic Maniac. While I enjoyed the original, I was never a huge fan,âŠ
POPSâ GIRL by Rebecca Rowland Pops sits in his truck in the snow-covered parking lot, waiting for me to emerge each afternoon at 2:45, sharp. Thereâs a bus that stops in front of our apartmentâa yellow school bus, not public transportationâbutâŠ
THE SUSURRATION OF LEG AND MANDIBLE by Ben Serna-Grey He was watching, silent observer of the rabbit in the road. Its nose twitched in small waves, each wave sending out a rivulet of dread as the inevitable creeped upon theâŠ
by James Newman John Carpenter was once the undisputed master of horror.  Sadly, In the Mouth of Madness was his last great film. This oneâs about a horror author whose work drives his fans to commit acts of murder and mayhemâŠ
THE CEMETERYâS REFLECTIONby Rory Say On a wet mid-November morning in his ninth year, an immensely traumatic event occurred in the young life of Aidan Ross. It happened in the cemetery through which he walked each weekday to and fromâŠ
TINY DANCERby Suann Amero âWhat is your one wish?â he asked me. I looked up into the darkest eyes Iâd ever seen and I knew that all was lost. âMy wish?â I asked, growing shy under his piercing gaze. âŠ
