Halloween is almost here. I wrote five more flashy tales of terror. But, before you read them, for your own safety, heed the following …
- Don’t go into the cornfield.
- If the dinner party host is serving fava beans with a nice Chianti, don’t eat the main course.
- Never gaze into the snowy noise on an old analog TV.
- Don’t answer the doll if it says, “Hi, I’m (insert name here, i.e. Chucky). Wanna play?”
- Never spend the night at a strange castle in the hills of Transylvania.
- Beware of walking the moors of England at night on a full moon.
- No! It’s still not safe to go back in the water.
If you would like to read the first five tales, you can find them at Five Flashy Tales of Terror.
With swift vengeance, it invaded the water supply. Reproduced with enthusiasm, as the population drank from the tap. It had found its legion of hosts.
The false prophet promised salvation. They drank his poisonous lies without question. He delivered them to damnation.
Her body rose from the tousled bed, appendages limp. Wicked utterances spewed from her shriveled lips, “Damn, these cursed Monday mornings are hellish!”
He wept over his mother’s coffin, gave her cheek a final kiss. “I’ll always be with you,” she whispered in his ear.
A Harrowing After-Life
The mummy awoke, hot and sweaty. Confused, he opened the sarcophagus lid and moaned, “Me angry! Minions use cheap polyester wrap instead of breathable linen.”
Special bonus flashy tale … (because I had an extra one)
Your Love Knows No Boundaries
You love her infectious laugh. Her delicate snore. The curves of her naked body. Tonight you will meet for the first time.