Tag: horror

Better Luck

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Sure, I gave a fortune to Over-President Ichiro’s campaign, but the ambassadorship wasn’t the reward I had in mind.
The other day, a Grelp was in the embassy, asking about the horseshoe above my office door.
“Old Earth custom,” I said. “It’s for good luck.”
The next day, there was some sort of problem with a power converter trade agreement, so I headed over to the Grelp Ministry of Off-Planet Trade.
Nailed over the oozeway to Minister Sploch-Brbl’s puddlechamber was an entire horse, dead.
“For muchly more luck,” said Sploch-Brbl, flibbering happily.
Thank God I didn’t put up my crucifix.

Moonlighting

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They made fruit smoothies by day and killed babies by night.
We found the tiny corpses in the dumpster behind the Blend-a-Rama. If it hadn’t have been for a hungry stray dog, we’d have never known it was a front for a backalley abortion clinic.
The problem is, it’s not their dumpster. And the geniuses at Crime Lab screwed the evidence in a mixup. Someone got high on seized weed, had the aborted tykes incinerated.
All they’re getting is a health code citation and a slap on the wrist.
Word spreads fast. Their business is booming now, day and night.

The Sea of Lost Children

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The Crown Prince put down his teacup.
“There is no abortion in the Kingdom,” he said.
He smiled. We smiled.
Ten hours later, the GPS unit told us to stop.
“Welcome to the Sea of Lost Children,” said our guide, pointing at the dunes.
We took turns digging.
Eventually, we found them.
“Suffocated in plastic,” said Bob. “Postnatal. No abortion.”
“Just plain murder,” I said. “How convenient.”
That’s when we heard choppers.
We tried to run, but soldiers surrounded us.
“Keep digging,” commanded an officer. “You sought them out, so join them now.”
Ever breathe plastic?
I don’t recommend it.

The Flowers

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No matter how hard Frederick tried to keep them from covering his hill, the flowers always managed to grow.
The first message they spelled was “FREDERICK SUCKS.”
Frederick thought it was a prank, so he tore up the flowers and watched the hill.
When he woke the next morning, the flowers returned: “FREDERICK KILLED JENNY.”
Frederick panicked. “Demons!” he shouted.
Frederick tore up the flowers again, and hired some locals to guard the hill in shifts in case he fell asleep.
Which, of course, he did.
“Now he’s paying us,” said a guard. “Sweet. So, what shall we spell now?”

The Ghost Ship

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We matched velocity and docked with the luxury liner.
The alarm went off as we suited up. Damn, those things are annoying.
Floating throughout the ship we found dozens of lifesacks. Must have been sudden atmospheric failure.
Every one contained a passenger or a crewman. All dead. No survivors.
Was this a bad batch of lifesacks? The hole stabbed in each suggested no. Each victim was frozen in horror.
Who’s the murderer? We checked manifest… all accounted for.
Did they finish everyone off, then themselves?
Whatever. That’s the Orbital Navy’s problem. We’re pirates.
We robbed the cargo hold and left.

You’re Not Kong

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The gigantic squid crawled through the streets of Manhattan, dragging a bored blonde beauty in one of its slimy tentacles.
“It just isn’t the same,” she said. “It’s nothing personal, it’s just me.”
The gigantic squid stopped and clacked its beak.
“I don’t have anything against squid in particular,” said the woman. “I admire your radial symmetry and your color-shifting skills. But it’s just that ever since I had that little fling with Kong, I just can’t see myself with anything different than a gigantic simian.”
She and the gigantic squid parted ways. They wrote for a while, then nothing.

Simple Math

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The warden got tired of screaming at Governor Jackass about running out of room on Death Row. Simple math: too many walking in, not enough leaving feet-first.
On the day the last empty cell was taken, the warden got word yet another prisoner was coming.
No room. That’s when he took matters into his own hands: Any new prisoner coming in that needed a cell would have to kill a man for his cell.
One in, one out. Simple math.
Eventually, word got out.
Horrified, the governor put a new warden in office.
The old one left feet-first. Simple math.

Hello, God.

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It was a nice day out until the meteors came.
Or maybe they were asteroids. Or comets.
I have no idea. I’m no astronomer.
Big rocks, smashing into the earth. How’s that?
Good.
All I know is that one minute it’s nice and sunny, and the next minute I’m holding my hands to my bloody ears, screaming at the sky.
I think I’m screaming, because I can’t hear myself. My throat is raw and I’m shaking.
And then I stop.
If my ears have blown out, then everybody else’s have.
What’s the point of screaming if nobody can hear you?

Alone

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My wife, she went out of town. Seven days.
I dropped her off at the airport, tell her I love her, or did she tell me? Both?
I’m so confused.
First day gone, I trip and fall. I can’t move.
My neck’s broken?
How many days has it been?
I’m thirsty. I’m hungry. I’ve pissed and shit myself a bunch of times.
Phone’s ringing. Again. They’ll leave a message.
Yup. Message beep.
I’ve tried to yell, but I’m face down. Doesn’t go far. Muffled cries.
I can weep. But that’s drying me out.
Seven days.
So thirsty. So hungry.
Fuck.

Pace it again, Sam

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Dr. Franklin laughed.
“Sam is so gullible, you can drop him in a padded round room, tell him the door out is right around the corner, and he’ll wear himself out looking for it.”
Dr. Franklin turned on the speaker for the chamber’s locked hatch. “Found it yet, Sam?”
I tapped Dr. Franklin on the shoulder. “I think so.”
Dr. Franklin gasped. “But… how… Sam… did… where…”
“Look for yourself,” I said.
Dr Franklin spent the next six years pacing that round room. “I know it’s here somewhere, Sam.”
I’d show him, but it would only make him even crazier.