by Jim Stitzel | Jul 12, 2024 | Stories
Shadows. Little threads of nightmare silk play against the wall of the nursery before they coalesce into fine, delicate fingers not unlike a Black Widow’s legs. These threads, these fingers are chased by thin arms, equally delicate, equally long. Then the...
by Jim Stitzel | Jul 7, 2024 | Stories
“Keep quiet!” Marla hissed, waving the three children she had in tow to the ground. “There are aliens everywhere!” “What do they look like?” one of the children — Janie — asked. Marla rolled her eyes as if that was the...
by Jim Stitzel | Jul 2, 2024 | Stories
“I want you to feel special,” the zombie said, standing before me. The zombie in question was my former first mate, Emorson Brunnos, now somehow become one of the undead. Myself, I was the captain of this starship, before the horde overran it and turned...
by Jim Stitzel | Jun 30, 2024 | Stories
Stop making me feel guilty. I can see you, in the mirror, reflected in a glass of water, looking back at me from any shiny surface. You’re always looking over my shoulder, reminding me of what I’ve done. And I don’t need that kind of guilt. Least of all from you. I...
by Jim Stitzel | Jun 27, 2024 | Stories
They entered the basement of the old theatre. It was dark, damp, and musty. The place had been abandoned for years and so was in a profound state of disrepair. They flicked on their flashlights, beaming them across the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Water puddled in...
