Bethany and the Drowned Woman (short fiction)

Too Many Curses


In a castle filled with curses, the Drowned Woman lurked in the deep end of a spa pool, waiting for something, anything, to stray too close to her grasp. She’d been waiting a long time.

Once, a rat had fallen into the water and had been unable to escape. It had drowned before she gotten hold of it. She had to settle for its floating corpse, which she pretended to drag into the depths. It just wasn’t the same.

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On the Mantle (short fiction)

Wren and Hess


Archibald Ghastly hadn’t been a lich long. Most of his pale flesh clung to his bones. Little bits of skin flaked off, floating in the air. He smelled bad, but all new liches did. It took about a year for the smell of rot to fade, replaced by a musty scent of slight decay that never quite went away, even when they were nothing but dry, white bones.

Wren and Hess kept their distance as they took the report.

“Could you describe your phylactery, sir?” asked Hess.

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Diablo’s Cactus (short fiction)

Sophia Alonzo’s father had left her four acres of land, a rundown mobile home, and two hundred dollars. The two hundred dollars had long since been spent, and the mobile home had burned down under questionable circumstance. But she still had the land, though it was dry and cracked and smelled kind of weird. It wasn’t good for much, aside from raising the dead now and then.

Jody, Sophia’s boyfriend, handed her another beer as they watched old Mrs. Knutson dig up her husband under the moonlight. She was a tough old bird, but the land was hard. Progress was slow.

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The Door in the Mountain (short fiction)

Ernie the Hero


Someone had carved a massive door into the mountain. None could say who. Some thought it was the final remnant of an ancient civilization, forgotten by time. Others claimed the gods themselves had done it. And still others claimed it wasn’t a door at all, but just a natural rock formation replete with gargoyles and columns and a very big inscription, NEVER EVER OPEN. EVER.

All anyone knew for certain was that the door in the mountain had been closed for as long as anyone could remember. Most believed it was for the best. Whatever horrors lurked in the mountain were best left there.

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