Tag: fiction
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Demon Lover: Part Four
Elise existed in the most delectable state of shame, and had only grown more succulent by the day. She would taste so pretty, writhing in pain within my grasp. And now she was out of my reach, at a hospital somewhere, from what I could gather from the man’s murky thoughts as he shuffled through…
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Demon Lover: Part Three
She wasn’t the type to coddle living things. Most people like to have something living nearby — a plant, a fish, a cat, another human. I’d never seen another living being in her space. It was just her and me.
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Demon Lover: Part Two
Some people beg for demons. They fall easily, writhing with regret. Even in those who summon demons, attempting to bind us with foul symbols of the false god, there is a frisson of fear. Unbelievers are as easily haunted as the devout. Shame is the only requirement. We always have options, if we’re willing to…
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Demon Lover: Part One
It takes a certain type of carelessness to talk to a demon. Elise had that in spades.
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Last week’s excerpt
This is better, she thought. I’d rather die fighting anyway. The demon stepped toward her, and she plunged the shard of wood into his heart.
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Pacific Northwest Gothic: A Template
We start with fear and end with the fantasy. First, there is a corpse on a riverbank. Later, she dances on a stage with red velvet curtains. The North decays just as well as the South, but in deceptive ways. You won’t smell the body rot coming from the forest over the scent of…
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The Visionary
Her fingernails snip the stems of daisies and dandelions as she dreams of rings. Another flower crown, another fairy ring, another circle of friends, another playground game. “What if we were a spaceship?” she asks the other kids. “I saw in a show they can make them this way. We could spin through space.” The…
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How to be a successful manic pixie dream girl
Forget whatever you might know of your origins. Forget what you love, and especially forget what you hate. Shrink into toddlerhood – make sure your waist shrinks too. No one over 110 pounds could possibly be eccentric. Fall in love eternally. Love the carpet, the table, the dogshit on the street. Don’t admit to loving…
K. D. Hume 