Welcome to Weirdsville: They Who Lurk Below by M. Christian

written by M. Christian

Be cautioned: this month’s expedition into the odd and the unusual has a certain ... well, shall we say Miskatonic atmosphere-- a shuffling, looming presence that waits just on the edge of our safe domain to ravish our bodies as well as our very souls. More...

Some New Kind of Kick by Clint Catalyst

written by Clint Catalyst

The X begins to hit me, tingle in my groin, inner thighs.

Ten after eleven and I'm leaning against the sheetrock of my usual Saturday night spot, the righthand wall of Lillith's dancefloor. Silhouettes of dark figures sway in the fog of the room, the features of nearby dancers discernible in the faint red overhead lights. More...

When Gods Die by Maria Alexander

written by Maria Alexander

Titans and ambulances rage as they emerge from their caves, and sleep, twilight-bound and restless, when they return...

“Head injury, 15 minutes!”

The radio room PA system beeped frantically with the paramedic call for the latest trauma patient. Nine-year-old Rachel Anne Roberts tested at a “1” for every phase of the Glasgow Coma Test: unresponsive. Triage quickly ushered her gurney through the double-layers of automatic glass doors and into the trauma room. Blood draining from her right ear. Many cuts covering her frail body... More...

Welcome to Weirdsville: Holey Fools by M. Christian

written by M. Christian

I can understand it ... a bit. The same way you can look at the strangest, the most twisted aspects of human nature and often squeeze yourself into it -- at least enough to get a passing glance at empathy. Blood sports? Sure, a powerful ritual of personal sacrifice, playing on the edge. Cults (i.e. religious mania)? I can see that, the sense of absolute belonging, of being certain in an uncertain world. Eccentrism? Okay, wouldn’t it be delightful to be so into your own brilliant mental landscape that a lot of ridiculous self-consciousness just gets put aside. More...

Pizza Man by Christa Faust

written by Christa Faust

Before I was a professional Dominatrix, I used to work the Peep Booths in Times Square. You know the ones, put your tokens in, the shutter slides up and you get to look through a little window at a LIVE NUDE GIRL. You can even pick up a prison-type telephone rig and talk. Our joint had something for everyone. Surgically sculpted porno queens all stiff blonde hair and big red lips. Cornfed promqueens looking like the cheerleader you always wanted to bang in High School who wouldn't look twice at you cause you were on the chess team instead of the football team. Manic crack-hos like hungry insects and voluptuous Mamacitas and sad old lushes who squeezed their sagging flesh into cheap lingerie and prayed for leftovers when the younger ones were busy. And me. More...

Petition by David J. Schow

written by David J Schow

Abel Swift bandaged up his hand as best he could, given that there were no dressings or hydrogen peroxide in the apartment. To buy that kind of stuff from a bodega he would have to hump down six floors of stairs, and Abel hated exerting himself to waste money. He mummied up his hand with one of his wife's halter tops tied in a knot, which gifted him with a bonus twinge of revenge. It served her right. More...

Merry Christmas, Motherfucker by Thomas S. Roche

written by Thomas Roche

The fog was coming off the river and shrouding the town in winter magic. Vi slipped the 68 Caddy into low gear and came down the hill toward the housing development. Bruno reached out and touched her on the arm, a gesture of reassurance. She looked at him without smiling, but the warmth between them was obvious. They were two soldiers in combat. More...

Necrophilia Guy's Erotic Guide to Mercury Retrograde and Other Prostatic Disorders By Thomas S. Roche

written by Thomas Roche

My friend Mike seems to know a thing or two about astrology. He's not a New Age freak or anything, just a casual sort of weekend occultist. He told me there was a hardcore Mercury Retrogrades in December, and if I had any hopes for being productive I should just ditch them right now and save everyone a lot of trouble. More...

Sunrise in Venice by Amelia G

written by Amelia G

He wasn't the sort of guy I normally saw at The Probe, not the sort who would normally be there on a gay night. Maybe for their Gothic or industrial nights, but not for hip-hop and not for gay. I'd actually checked out the Probe's Gothic night a couple of times because I'd heard some positively supernatural stuff goes on there. Didn't see much of anything. Mostly I just felt as out of place on those nights as this guy looked on my night. Well, my night or not, the DJ was doing that interminable techno remix style which makes every song sound exactly the same as the one before it. As a result, I was developing a splitting headache and I was bored of dancing. Normally I love to dance and I'm pretty athlet ic. I guess maybe I was more upset about the whole thing with Skip than I wanted to be. More...

Welcome to Weirdsville: Green Jaws by M. Christian

written by M. Christian

It’s coming. If you close your eyes you can hear it: a soft skittering, hovering at the edge of awareness. The sound of rustling leaves, of gravel, of soil being inexorably pushed aside. The crackling of lumber being crushed; the sharp chimes of metal being deforming by a steady, unstoppable force. More...