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The Road to Nowhere…

Category Archives: Horror/Angst

Damned Words 25

28 Tuesday Nov 2017

Posted by Nina D'Arcangela in Dark Fiction, Flash Fiction, Horror, Horror/Angst, Pen of the Damned, Writing

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A.F. Stewart, angst, Damned Words 26, drabble, flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, Jon Olson, Joseph A Pinto, Lee A. Forman, Mark Steinwachs, Nina D'Arcangela, PEN, Pen of the Damned, prose, The Damned

November’s group flash collection from Pen of the Damned!

One photo, nine writers, nine different interpretations of the horror one sees at a glance in something as innocuous as a family photo!

Pen of the Damned




Misapprehension
Lee A. Forman

The past withered, faded, much like the photograph Benny held. Time consumed memory, leaving only a reflection of their faces behind his eyes. He couldn’t see beyond the scowl his wife expressed. Often, he mused it was the sun in her eyes—mere speculation, as the gray expanse that once thrived with the living, now decayed with the dead. The end wiped clean all sins, but all good deeds as well; as if a switch had been flipped, those who survived born anew.

He had to relearn who he was, as did everyone else. But he never accepted the new world. The picture tethered him to what was before. It held part of him in a forgotten place of warmth and hope. But the source of those feelings remained unknown. His head ached, torn between realities, one of which he couldn’t be sure existed. For all he…

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OPEN SUBMISSION: The Sirens Call – Issue 24: Lost Souls – #horror eZine; Short #Stories, Flash #Fiction, #Poetry @sotet_angyal

12 Thursday Nov 2015

Posted by Nina D'Arcangela in Flash Fiction, Horror, Horror/Angst, Open Submissions, Paranormal, Poetry, Short Stories, Sirens Call Publications

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eZine, fiction, flash, Free, Horror, open call, OPEN SUBMISSIONS, Poetry, short stories, Sirens Call Publications, The Sirens Call

Sirens Call Publications is pleased to announce it’s next call for our bi-monthly #FREE eZine – The Sirens Call.

For this issue of The Sirens Call, we’re looking for stories of ‘Lost Souls’.

The ‘other side’ can be a terrifying place for souls who have passed, an unimaginable place where all sorts of horrors occur. Are these lost souls stuck in Purgatory, forever running from whatever may be trapped there with them? Do they cling to our plane of existence desperately trying to communicate, or malevolently causing harm? Perhaps your story doesn’t speak of the after, but tells of death itself and the soul’s encounter with a Reaper.

Tell your tale from any perspective you’d like – just make sure it features a lost soul and some bite. Remember, this is a horror eZine you’re writing for.

Previously published pieces are most welcome.

***

Submission Deadline: December 5, 2015

Short story word count: 1,000 – 2,500

Flash fiction word count: 300 – 1,000

Poem length: minimum 10 lines; maximum 50 lines (with a limit of five submitted per author)

Drabbles: 100 words (limit of five submitted per author)

Reprints are acceptable as long as you currently hold the copyright.

All submissions MUST be submitted to: Submissions@SirensCallPublications.com

As per our standard guidelines, there will be no stories containing pedophilia, bestiality, or graphic rape accepted.

Full details can be found on www.SirensCallPublications.com 
on our Open Submissions page.

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Seven FREE Downloads available on Amazon! – #free #fiction #story #Amazon @Sotet_Angyal

27 Saturday Jun 2015

Posted by Nina D'Arcangela in Amazon, Dark Fiction, Free Download, Horror, Horror/Angst, Paranormal, Romance/Erotica, Short Stories, Sirens Call Publications

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Amazon, Aspen deLainey, Asylum, Bent Metal Nina D’Arcangela, betrayal, Brent Abell, dead, fiction, Free, ghost, Greg McWhorter, Horror, Maynard Blackoak, Mystery, Not Another Messiah, Paun M. Feeney, Phrenic Press, short stories, Snapshots of Hell, The Dead at Penderghast Manor, The Possession of Nina Grey, The Testimony of HJ Pembrooke, The Weight of the Ocean, tragic

Phrenic Press is offering its entire library for #FREE
June 25th to June 29th!

The Testimony of HJ Pembrooke, by Brent Abell

BrentAbell_TheTestimonyOfHJPembooke_FinalFrontCoverIt’s the turn of the 20th century in Baltimore, MD, and as the gas lamps burn brightly, madness lurks in the shadows…

When school teacher, Melisa Jameson, mysteriously disappears, famed detective H.J. Pembrooke is called in to investigate. As he sits before the local Constable to give his testimony concerning the events that transpired, what unravels is a twisting account of transcending love, loss, and insanity that intertwines to deepen the mystery of Melisa’s disappearance.

What happened to her on that fateful day and why is Melisa so familiar to our detective? Delve into The Testimony of H.J. Pembrooke to find out where fact ends and the lines of reality begin to blur…

Amazon link: http://mybook.to/TestimonyPembrooke


Bent Metal, by Nina D’Arcangela

PhrenicPress_BentMetal_NinaDArcangela_CoverWhere does reality end and dreamscape begin?

Woken each night by the sounds of screams and twisting metal, Lauren must relive the panic and fear of discovering her brother’s broken body on the asphalt. But each morning, she finds it’s only a dream… One she doesn’t want to keep having.

At what point does a dream become a nightmare, and what if the nightmare was more than a figment of her subconscious?

Amazon link: http://mybook.to/BentMetal


The Possession of Nina Grey, by Maynard Blackoak

ThePossessionOfNinaGrey_MayNardBlackoakLove is an obsession; possession it’s one true desire. If you found your lover to be unfaithful, what would you do? Would you seek revenge? Perhaps confront them reasonably to discuss the truth behind such infidelity? Or would you take matters into your own hands… or in Nina’s case, your own mind?

Where the heart beats the strongest, the psyche sometimes slips into abysmal madness prompting one to perform heinous, unthinkable acts. What drives Nina that one step too far? Perhaps the answer lies in the shadows that lurk between genuine adoration and insane jealousy – the grey areas.

Not all cheeks can be turned the other way, and not all truths are what they seem.

Amazon link: http://mybook.to/PossessionofNinaGrey


The Weight of the Ocean, by Paul M. Feeney

TheWeightOfTheOcean_PaulFeeney_FrontCover_FinalCasual conversations, playful moments, two friends bonding over things that mean nothing, until one day they mean everything…

Paul has a love for the ocean, but has never had the will to learn to swim. Jess draws him to the water, helping him overcome his fear. In the rocky brine, Paul finds more than courage; he finds love in its truest form: Jess. But the scars she carries hidden deep within won’t allow her to love. After a beautiful but short lived courtship, she ends their relationship.

The Weight of the Ocean, much like the pain she hides, is simply too much to bear.

Amazon link: http://mybook.to/WeightoftheOcean


The Dead of Penderghast Manor, by Julianne Snow

TheDeadOfPenderghastManor_JulianneSnow_FinalCoverWhat would you do if you knew the Dead could talk?

For Chester Penderghast, it’s not the easiest of questions to answer…

Ensconced in the basement of his family’s mortuary business is the last place he wants to be, but when the conversation starts flowing, Chester’s the only living person who can hear it. What do the Dead want, and why is he the only one who can hear them?

This is not your average zombie tale—the Dead don’t want to eat your brains, but they will chew your ear off!

Amazon link: http://mybook.to/TheDeadofPenderghastManor


Snapshots of Hell, by Greg McWhorter

SnapshotsOfHell_GregMcWhorter_cover

John Evers had been propelled to fame through his legendary photographic exhibits in the posh galleries of New York City.

Moving himself and his wife to England for professional reasons, John now finds his personal success fleeting. In order to recapture his fame, he takes a gamble on a single lot being auctioned off rather dubiously. As fortune would have it, John is lucky enough to gain possession of the lot he is seeking: LOT 466-8 CAMERA AND UNDEVELOPED FILM FROM THE ESTATE OF ALEISTER CROWLEY.

John can’t believe his luck at acquiring undeveloped rolls of film once belonging to Aleister Crowley, one of England’s most famed Satanists. Believing this good fortune to be his salvation, John unknowingly releases an evil from beyond the grave that will not rest until it ravages both his mind and his body.

Will John and his wife discover a way out of their personal torment before it’s too late? Or will their life become another collection of ‘Snapshots of Hell’?

Amazon link: http://mybook.to/SnapshotsofHell


Not Another Messiah, by Aspen de Lainey

NotAnotherMessiah_AspendeLainey_coverAll men are created equal, or so it is said…

In a Mental Asylum that has earned infamy for its successful governing of patients suffering from a Messiah Complex, what happens when a ward of twenty-one prophets is introduced to a twenty-second? How do prophets worship what they believe to be a Messiah in their midst? Do they treat him with distance, trepidation, reverence, or perhaps adoration? Or do the men who speak directly to their own gods want more than a life of confinement as a reward for their blessing?

Is it not also said, “He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me, and I in him.”

Amazon link: http://mybook.to/NotAnotherMessiah


Why not grab them all?

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Great Nyctaeus

19 Tuesday May 2015

Posted by Nina D'Arcangela in Authors, Dark Fiction, Horror/Angst, Pen of the Damned

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

angst, Great Nyctaeus, Pen of the Damned, Poetic Prose, steed, Thomas Brown, Writing

Beautifully descriptive prose by Thomas Brown.

 Great Nyctaeus

by Thomas Brown

The Number Forty-Nine lurches as it pulls away from the curb. Hydraulics hiss, and through the settling fog Max makes out brake lights, blinking indifferently in the drizzle. Teeth clenched, he gives chase, struggling against the stream of evening commuters.

Men and women obscure his way, laden with laptop cases and rucksacks, lost in their cell phones, oblivious to all but the hot jargon blowing from their mouths. He breaks from the crowd in time to see another flash of faltering brake lights in the fog. Then the bus slides into the haze and is gone.

Frustration flares inside him, to be swallowed by a void of overwhelming helplessness. Running a hand through his wet hair, he wishes again that he had left the office earlier. There had been a team brief. That file he could not leave unfinished, the conversation with Frederick in the meeting room, it all seems meaningless now in the absence of his lift home. The rain picks up, driving him to take cover beneath the bus shelter. A mad whinny, perhaps the screech of car tyres, fills the street.

In the wake of the six-ten, the shelter is abandoned. Max takes a seat on one of the benches, then stands and wanders over to the timetable. Graffiti obscures the arrival times beneath green stars and ugly swear-words. The next bus might be ten minutes or forty. His shoulder finds the metal post, cold but supportive, and for a moment he is tempted to wait. With a little luck he could be home within the hour.

The thought no sooner enters his mind when he turns up his collars, steps out beneath the sky, and makes for the nearest Underground station. Luck has not been on his side today.

The rain is merciless, and in moments he is drenched. His navy jacket darkens, his white shirt clinging to him like a second transparent skin. The commuter current drags him along.

The street blurs around him. Men and women become base silhouettes; shadows of people glimpsed in his periphery. Shapes sag, stooped against the weather, darkening like his jacket, and it is easy to imagine the rain is responsible; soaking the street, weighing it down, waterlogging the pavement and the people forced to use it. The fog lingers around the road, a blank canvas into which the silhouettes vanish, or reappear suddenly, chased into sight again by headlights and the breathy snort of car engines.

The entrance to the Underground yawns ahead. The current pulls him closer, and even though it is raining, and the station is his destination, he cannot help the wave of panic that crashes over him. Bodies press closer as the stream narrows; flesh and blood and corporate bones digging into his ribs, knocking his shoulders, finding the small of his back. As he approaches the turnstiles, he fumbles in his wallet for the monthly pass that will activate them. Then he is through them, and stepping onto an escalator.

He hates the Underground. If the city’s streets are its thumbprints then these subterranean channels are surely the bare soles of its feet; cankerous, black with grime and ripe with trapped human smells. He detects sweat, and smoke, and the imagined flavour of despair in this place where people crowd and the wind cannot reach –

Despair, but not darkness. Fluorescent strip bulbs line the ceilings, built into the brick or guarded behind strips of wire-mesh, their harsh light as merciless as the deluge outside, every cracked tile, every broken bottle, every billboard plastered with adverts illuminated in the unforgiving brightness. More graffiti covers one of the tunnel walls, language and art reduced to expletives in this place where there is no air and it is never dark –

A train roars through the station without stopping, and he realises he’s standing on the platform. He doesn’t remember stepping from the escalator or escaping the current, but he is here. Carriages shudder past, axles rocking, and he finds rhythm in their terrible speed. He thinks of carousels, and their bobbing steeds, and the motion of real steeds thundering across open fields with nothing but the breeze in their manes and the vast empty sky overhead for company. He used to ride, when he was little and he would visit his grandparents in Sussex.

He knows what it feels like, to take off with an animal and say goodbye to everyone and everything left behind. He didn’t appreciate it then, of course, but increasingly he has been remembering it now. He clings to the memory, covering himself with it, drawing it into him, soothing against his tired skin.

The times on the electronic board inform him that his train is due. He hears it first, its arrival announced by something halfway between a sigh and a mechanical scream. Then the carriages slide into view and he finds himself stepping on-board and finding a seat.

The inside of the carriage is no less bright than the rest of the station. Each seat is mostly plastic, with a covering of something intended to be softer. Stains and daily wear have made the fabric almost unidentifiable. He finds a seat at the far end, slightly away from the other passengers, as the train sets off again.

…

Read the rest on Pen of the Damned.

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Damned Words 12 – Ten 100 Word Flash Pieces by PenoftheDamned.com @PenoftheDamned

12 Tuesday May 2015

Posted by Nina D'Arcangela in Authors, Dark Fiction, Drabbles, Horror, Horror/Angst, Pen of the Damned, Reblog, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

angst, Blaze McRob, Craig McGray, Damned Words 12, drabbles, Flash Fiction, Horror, Hunter Shea, Jon Olson, Joseph Pinto, Magenta Nero, Nina D'Arcangela, pain, Pen of the Damned, photo, Photography, The Damned, Thomas James Brown, Tyr Kieran, Zack Kullis

Damned Words 12

ground_copyright
Trail Runner
Craig McGray

Mother Nature’s realm, the one place I feel at home and alive and deadly. I lie in wait. I’m anxious yet patient because I know one will come, and when she does, the waiting will make it all the more sweet. The anticipation builds until I feel like I may burst. Ah, here comes one now. Her shoes pressing into the moist soil and the pebbles crunching beneath her feet triggers my pulse to race out of control. Mmm. I slide the blade across my palm, the pain further heightening my senses. So beautiful, so alive. She has no idea.


Hands
Magenta Nero

Unmarked is the spot but I know the way, I walk there every night in my dreams. Twigs snap under foot, the lush canopy overhead casts dappled light on stones. Nobody knows your resting place and nobody misses you it seems. I return to unearth you, piece by piece, as on my mind the memories play. Carefully I take your hand in mine again. The knotted bones of our fingers slip together and lock. Your hand so thin, white and smooth, the flesh eaten away. My hand soft, pink and lined with the dirt of words I dare not say.


Wholesome Death
Zack Kullis

He huddled between the bush and his meal and snorted his frustration. Nocturnal eyes glared as the light spread across the ground and chased his protective darkness away. Grom dropped the glob of intestines and looked around for the hole to his clan’s subterranean home.

“Piss,” he gurgled.

Grom started to claw furiously at the elk’s belly, thinking he could hide inside the bloody carcass. He pulled out a pile of guts and dove inside just as the sun rose.

His large eyes peered out from the gore, hateful of the poisonous light that bathed the clearing in wholesome death.


Berserkers
Tyr Kieran

I spotted dragons on the water and rang the alarm—hammering the bell with all my strength—but, they were too fast. They hit the shore running, swatting away our arrows like pesky flies. Their strength and size was terrible to behold. We sent a barrage of prayers, efforts in futility as even God was outnumbered by their one-eyed Odin and his troop of Gods. Few survivors were taken, loot for the barter like gold and silver. I saw it all from the tower before fleeing into the forest where I lived out my days in fear of their return.


Street Walker
Thomas Brown

The woods sing to him, and their song is the howl of wild dogs. He wakes to it in his single apartment bed, nine floors above the city, and in the artificial pallor of the subway after long days at work.

There was a time when he wondered where the sounds came from, and why. Then he realised it was him. In this cold, grey place, he bore the forest in his flesh. He is the bear, the crow, the lone wolf with ravenous appetite.

In the relative dark of moonless nights, he hunts well by the glow of streetlamps.


Can You See Me?
Jon Olson

Can you see me? Nobody has yet. Look at that scenery. Rocks spread out like a carpet; foliage draped like tapestries; and sunshine illuminating a path. It looks peaceful, beautiful, undisturbed. Families walk through, children laughing with their parents unsuspecting. Who would feel the need to keep their guard up? This is their leisure, their getaway… and my hunting ground. They are my prey, carefree and oblivious to the danger; unaware of my presence. Slipping silently through the trees, I stalk, then strike. Their fear fills my nostrils; their blood my mouth; their screams my ears. Can you see me?


Intone
Joseph A. Pinto

I will not sing; listen if you wish to, but not today. Empty promises have turned me into a joke and I have finally bought into my own foreshadowing, granted the chance to call my parting shot. I struggle to realize this paradise surrounding me, struggle to be soothed under these vigilant boughs. But you had to know this day would come eventually, did you not? Don’t act surprised when you find me melded with the pores of the earth. Sit at the bole of this tree, write the lyrics I could never mouth, intone the good life I deserved.


Festering Evil
Blaze McRob

Twisted variants of nature rest, their moment of revenge at hand. Those responsible for the ruination of what they once were will pay the ultimate price.

Sunshine rocks the ravine, giving a false sense of bliss to anyone who might wander this way. Evil lurks, festering in the trees and rocks, licking its lips in anticipation of what is to come.

Foot plants sound, steady, unaware. The fool comes closer, not able to see the creatures blending so well into the rocks and trees. In a fraction of a second, the young man drops.

The polished stones drip with blood…


Aftertaste
Hunter Shea

Under the loose stones I laid her down to sleep – my rock, my love. Down the path where we once walked, two souls at nature’s end. To the place we shared our wonder, our hopes, and on that final day, my secret.

I wonder if the worms have hatched, wriggling from her flesh. Prying a stone from the wet earth, I breathe deep, lick its soiled bottom, feel the beetles skitter along my tongue.

Ah, it’s her taste I miss the most.

Was it wrong to tell her my fantasies? My desire to one day consume her fruited body?

Perhaps.


Prize
Nina D’Arcangela

Strike, squeal, wrap – a struggle to breath; it mistakenly exhales. Tighten the coil; death comes swiftly. I feast. My stomach distends; I lie baking in warm bliss. The day’s shine scuttles away; my body cools in concert. I follow, sluggishly laden with my prize. Smooth rocks caress my underbelly; a shedding begins. I slowly work my way through the the maze: peeling, sloughing, morphing; revealing. A tremor travels through the stone bed; my senses heighten. No rustle, no sound, only deep vibration. It approaches. The trail of flesh betrays me; a single glance ends me – the Basilisk is upon me.


Each piece of fiction is the copyright of its respective author
and may not be reproduced without prior consent. © Copyright 2015
Image © Copyright Dark Angel Photography. All Rights Reserved.

via Pen of the Damned – click to visit for more horror and angst filled prose!

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Home – Photo inspired drabble by Nina D’Arcangela | #COFFINHOP @CoffinHop @Sotet_Angyal @PenoftheDamned #Drabble

31 Friday Oct 2014

Posted by Nina D'Arcangela in Coffin Hop 2014, Dark Fiction, Drabbles, Horror/Angst, Pen of the Damned, Photography, Writing

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

angst, Coffin Hop 2014, COFFINHOP, drabble, Horror, Nina D'Arcangela, Pen of the Damned, Photography

Hey Coffin Hoppers! Welcome to The Road to Nowhere…

I’ll be posting EIGHT drabbles during the EIGHT days of Coffin Hop this year. At the end of the hop, I’ll be choosing four winners from the comments left on the accumulated posts to each receive a $5 Amazon Gift Card! So speak up, and speak often – each day’s comment will be an additional entry into the random drawing.

While you’re at it, be sure to visit my other two blogs, ‘Spreading the Writer’s Word‘ and ‘Sotet Angyal – The Dark Angel‘ for new features every day, and plenty of goodies up for grabs. And don’t forget to visit the other hard working Coffin Hoppers who are doing their best to make this years hop as spooktacular as possible!

Good luck, and have fun!!!



 Home

shaded_wallFrom impenetrable depths I hear a single word drifting on stone-cold breath: Come. The shadows beckon me; an icy existence beyond pain calls to one of its ilk – a destroyed soul, my soul. The nether recognizes its own; the summons continues. I stumble forward, grasping desperately at sanity. Home, it murmurs seductively. I scream my need for shrouded deliverance. Reaching a desperate hand forward, I place it upon the stone, follow the path into dappled darkness, but no matter the length of my stride, sanctuary eludes me; the promise is shattered. I’ll forever chase shadows that reveal nothing but light.



A Few Details About The Drabble

I belong to a writing group called Pen of the Damned, this image and drabble first appeared as one of our comparative flash features. Click on this Pen of the Damned link to read how the other members drew inspiration from this image as well. Oh, and just a little pat on the back – I’m the photographer, too!

Meet the Damned

Joseph A. Pinto         Craig McGray           Magenta Nero
Jon Olson
                  Blaze McRob             Tyr Kieran
Zack Kullis
                Thomas Brown         Leslie Moon
Hunter Shea             Nina D’Arcangela

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The Mill – Photo inspired drabble by Nina D’Arcangela | #COFFINHOP @CoffinHop @Sotet_Angyal @PenoftheDamned #Drabble

30 Thursday Oct 2014

Posted by Nina D'Arcangela in Coffin Hop 2014, Dark Fiction, Drabbles, Horror/Angst, Pen of the Damned, Photography, Writing

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

angst, Coffin Hop 2014, COFFINHOP, drabble, Horror, Nina D'Arcangela, Pen of the Damned, Photography

Hey Coffin Hoppers! Welcome to The Road to Nowhere…

I’ll be posting EIGHT drabbles during the EIGHT days of Coffin Hop this year. At the end of the hop, I’ll be choosing four winners from the comments left on the accumulated posts to each receive a $5 Amazon Gift Card! So speak up, and speak often – each day’s comment will be an additional entry into the random drawing.

While you’re at it, be sure to visit my other two blogs, ‘Spreading the Writer’s Word‘ and ‘Sotet Angyal – The Dark Angel‘ for new features every day, and plenty of goodies up for grabs. And don’t forget to visit the other hard working Coffin Hoppers who are doing their best to make this years hop as spooktacular as possible!

Good luck, and have fun!!!



 The Mill

windowI look out upon all that is left. Sunlight scorches this land; with morning comes heat, an assault upon existence. With evening, a frigid wind; though still a brief respite. I squint as I glare down among those who wallow at my feet. My stone begins its grind, my furnace stokes; a rival to the blistering rays without, but only barely. Their faces turn up, beseeching. I watch as they enter my opening maw; again as they depart in concert with the tenors screech from my bowels. Stragglers dally, grubbing for scraps. Something needs fill the stone on the ‘morrow.



A Few Details About The Drabble

I belong to a writing group called Pen of the Damned, this image and drabble first appeared as one of our comparative flash features. Click on this Pen of the Damned link to read how the other members drew inspiration from this image as well. Oh, and just a little pat on the back – I’m the photographer, too!

Meet the Damned

Joseph A. Pinto        Craig McGray          Magenta Nero
Jon Olson
                 Blaze McRob            Tyr Kieran
Zack Kullis
               Thomas Brown        Leslie Moon
Hunter Shea            Nina D’Arcangela

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Amber Vision – Photo inspired drabble by Nina D’Arcangela | #COFFINHOP @CoffinHop @Sotet_Angyal @PenoftheDamned #Drabble

29 Wednesday Oct 2014

Posted by Nina D'Arcangela in Coffin Hop 2014, Dark Fiction, Drabbles, Horror/Angst, Pen of the Damned, Photography, Writing

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

angst, Coffin Hop 2014, COFFINHOP, drabble, Horror, Nina D'Arcangela, Pen of the Damned, Photography

Hey Coffin Hoppers! Welcome to The Road to Nowhere…

I’ll be posting EIGHT drabbles during the EIGHT days of Coffin Hop this year. At the end of the hop, I’ll be choosing four winners from the comments left on the accumulated posts to each receive a $5 Amazon Gift Card! So speak up, and speak often – each day’s comment will be an additional entry into the random drawing.

While you’re at it, be sure to visit my other two blogs, ‘Spreading the Writer’s Word‘ and ‘Sotet Angyal – The Dark Angel‘ for new features every day, and plenty of goodies up for grabs. And don’t forget to visit the other hard working Coffin Hoppers who are doing their best to make this years hop as spooktacular as possible!

Good luck, and have fun!!!



 Amber Vision

water_fallSluicing beneath the calm amber surface, she admires her own form; long sensuous limbs encased in umber scales glinting iridescent, claws meant for rending soft flesh, eyes the barest taint of rust. She floats these waters from another time, another place – all but forgotten. Spying one wading to catch its meal, she allows the flow to carry her near, masks herself as that of something much smaller, permits her seeming capture. A smile parts her lips as her hooked fangs insure its death. She playfully rolls onto her back, the two tumbling head first into the raucous waters churning below.



A Few Details About The Drabble

I belong to a writing group called Pen of the Damned, this image and drabble first appeared as one of our comparative flash features. Click on this Pen of the Damned link to read how the other members drew inspiration from this image as well. Oh, and just a little pat on the back – I’m the photographer, too!

Meet the Damned

Joseph A. Pinto       Craig McGray          Magenta Nero
Jon Olson
                Blaze McRob            Tyr Kieran
Zack Kullis
              Thomas Brown        Leslie Moon
Hunter Shea           Nina D’Arcangela

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Hush – Photo inspired drabble by Nina D’Arcangela | #COFFINHOP @CoffinHop @Sotet_Angyal @PenoftheDamned #Drabble

28 Tuesday Oct 2014

Posted by Nina D'Arcangela in Coffin Hop 2014, Dark Fiction, Drabbles, Horror/Angst, Pen of the Damned, Photography, Writing

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

angst, Coffin Hop 2014, COFFINHOP, drabble, Horror, Nina D'Arcangela, Pen of the Damned, Photography

Hey Coffin Hoppers! Welcome to The Road to Nowhere…

I’ll be posting EIGHT drabbles during the EIGHT days of Coffin Hop this year. At the end of the hop, I’ll be choosing four winners from the comments left on the accumulated posts to each receive a $5 Amazon Gift Card! So speak up, and speak often – each day’s comment will be an additional entry into the random drawing.

While you’re at it, be sure to visit my other two blogs, ‘Spreading the Writer’s Word‘ and ‘Sotet Angyal – The Dark Angel‘ for new features every day, and plenty of goodies up for grabs. And don’t forget to visit the other hard working Coffin Hoppers who are doing their best to make this years hop as spooktacular as possible!

Good luck, and have fun!!!



 Hush

nameBeen so many years, I don’t even remember the sun no more. I hear ‘em muttering, let ‘em talk. I’ll die in this box no doubt. I even heard they sealed it with the name. Trying to shame me I s’ppose. But I have my trophy; I pick my teeth with it every day. Wearin’ it down, but then it was so small to start with. Seems people dislike what I done, but that’s only ‘cause they don’t understan’ it. See, the sweet meat – it’s like veal, you gotta eat it when it’s supple, ‘fore it grows and loses the flavor.



A Few Details About The Drabble

I belong to a writing group called Pen of the Damned, this image and drabble first appeared as one of our comparative flash features. Click on this Pen of the Damned link to read how the other members drew inspiration from this image as well. Oh, and just a little pat on the back – I’m the photographer, too!

Meet the Damned

Joseph A. Pinto       Craig McGray          Magenta Nero
Jon Olson
                Blaze McRob            Tyr Kieran
Zack Kullis
              Thomas Brown        Leslie Moon
Hunter Shea           Nina D’Arcangela

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Genocide – Photo inspired drabble by Nina D’Arcangela | #COFFINHOP @CoffinHop @Sotet_Angyal @PenoftheDamned #Drabble

27 Monday Oct 2014

Posted by Nina D'Arcangela in Coffin Hop 2014, Dark Fiction, Drabbles, Horror/Angst, Pen of the Damned, Photography, Writing

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

angst, Coffin Hop 2014, COFFINHOP, drabble, Horror, Nina D'Arcangela, Pen of the Damned, Photography

Hey Coffin Hoppers! Welcome to The Road to Nowhere…

I’ll be posting EIGHT drabbles during the EIGHT days of Coffin Hop this year. At the end of the hop, I’ll be choosing four winners from the comments left on the accumulated posts to each receive a $5 Amazon Gift Card! So speak up, and speak often – each day’s comment will be an additional entry into the random drawing.

While you’re at it, be sure to visit my other two blogs, ‘Spreading the Writer’s Word‘ and ‘Sotet Angyal – The Dark Angel‘ for new features every day, and plenty of goodies up for grabs. And don’t forget to visit the other hard working Coffin Hoppers who are doing their best to make this years hop as spooktacular as possible!

Good luck, and have fun!!!



Genocide

Ice_Tree_DW5Icy tendrils; you’d think they’d chill me, but no – they warm my very soul. The children of my children’s children, the progeny that will carry forth my breath cocooned in an impenetrable translucent sleeve. When this world thaws, my branches will spring free. They will bloom, spreading their lethal spore among others of my kind, killing their offspring, weakening each host. As they fail to mend, the frost will come again, and I will wait for the next thaw. When that day comes, I will stand alone, proud, the only of my kind – as it was always meant to be.



A Few Details About The Drabble

I belong to a writing group called Pen of the Damned, this image and drabble first appeared as one of our comparative flash features. Click on this Pen of the Damned link to read how the other members drew inspiration from this image as well. Oh, and just a little pat on the back – I’m the photographer, too!

Meet the Damned

Joseph A. Pinto        Craig McGray           Magenta Nero
Jon Olson
                 Blaze McRob             Tyr Kieran
Zack Kullis
               Thomas Brown         Leslie Moon
Hunter Shea            Nina D’Arcangela

Share this:

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  • Facebook
  • Google
  • Pinterest
  • LinkedIn
  • WhatsApp
  • Email
  • Print

Like this:

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