The night light flickered.
“Chilled Reflection”
A watery grave holds only so many drops.
A watery grave holds only so many drops.
The night light flickered.
An eye for an eye.
The detectives confronted him again in his driveway.
‘The Dunker’ was no intellectual, but he was a big splash with a particular crowd.
Standing at the pearly gates, Darren ‘The Dunker’ O’Shea looked nervous.
I’m dead, yet I am. I continue. My mind drifts forward.
Originally written under a pseudonym as responses to a prompt from Nano Horror (@tweetsthecreeps) under #nHorror, these 2017 tweets are taunts sent from a fictitious Pittsburgh serial killer – “Steel City Slayer” – to the police and media.
An Alaskan serial killer strikes again.
And again.
As we stepped through the threshold to an abandoned house on Pine Street, the dried blood splatter immediately indicated that Russian Jack had struck again.
“Oh, there isn’t a green one?”
“Which wire? Red or blue?”
The transmitter inside the armored van gushed with the frantic breathing of the explosive ordnance disposal specialist.
But always needing to run.
He knew that Juárez was not safe.
El Paso was just a stone’s throw away.
Who doesn’t love strawberry milk?
“This dairy farm goes through a lot of field hands,” Hank observed.
A supernatural nightmare for any parent.
A sea of blue, green, red, and yellow spheres.
That’s all he found.