I am very happy to announce that my short story, “ISOLATED“, is in Issue #82 of Blood Moon Rising Magazine. It’s available now. Click on the link below:
by Jim Graves
Some people are just born bad. Samuel Dryden (Sammy D to those who knew better than to call him Samuel) was one of those people. His biggest thrill in life was making sure everyone else was miserable. It was said that he once threw a bag full of puppies in the creek, laughing and yelling, ‘Hold your breath you mangy mutts’. No one doubted the validity of that story. At the age of sixteen, it was obvious that Sammy D’s future involved incarceration.
Chris Mueller was the latest in a long line who had found themselves on Sammy D’s people to fuck with list. It didn’t take much to make the list. Basically, all you had to do was wander into his line of sight. Sammy D had made it plain, earlier that day, that he would be seeing Chris after school.
“What are you gonna do?” Danny Jacobs whispered.
“I’m gonna run like hell, that’s what I’m gonna do,” Chris said, looking at the clock above the door. Ten minutes til the last bell. The second hand seemed to be spinning like a fan blade.
Chris had a plan. He wasn’t sure if it was a good one, but it was a plan. He would avoid going to his locker and use the exit at the south end of the building. That would lead around back, past the practice field and into the woods down by the creek. From there, he could follow the creek for about a half mile and come out behind the Super Save. With any luck, he would make it home with his head still attached to his shoulders. His ego would suffer some bruises, but hey, he could live with embarrassment and shame.
Chris’s friend, Danny, turned around as the bell rang. “Good luck.”
Without answering, Chris got up and headed for the classroom door, hoping to blend in with the rest of the students crowding the hallway. He kept a careful lookout through the crowd as he made his way toward the south exit. His heart was pounding as he reached the door and put his weight against the push bar, giving way to a brisk October chill.
He ran around the end of the building and could see the practice field and the woods that lay beyond. Looking back over his shoulder, he tried to keep a natural pace, not wanting to draw attention. It was about thirty yards to the edge of the woods. As he got closer, he began to relax. Things were looking pretty good after all. And then he heard Sammy D yelling. He looked back to see Sammy D closing in on him and that was all he needed to spur him on. He began to run. Fast.
He made it to the edge of the woods, never slowing as he reached the creek bank and leaped to the other side. His right foot sank in mud at the water’s edge but he quickly regained his footing and scrambled up the hill, leaving one shoe behind. He could hear Sammy D laughing, but he didn’t dare look back. He could imagine what would happen if he were to slow down. And then the laughter stopped.
It was Sammy D yelling but Chris wasn’t going to be fooled. He did however take a quick look back over his shoulder.
“Hey,” Sammy D yelled again, “something’s got hold of me.” He was digging his fingers into the creek bank as he fought against whatever had hold of him. Something was pulling him back into the water. “No fooling, shithead, something’s got me,” he said. His fingers dug deeper into the muddy edges of the creek as he tried, with little success, to pull himself out of the water. “Help me!”
Chris stopped, bending over and putting his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He looked at Sammy D, there on the creek bank, his hands covered in mud, and waist deep in the water. There was genuine fear in his eyes.
“Help me,” he said.
It was then that Chris saw what was trying to pull Sammy D back into the murky brown water. It was the skeleton of a dog. Or almost a skeleton. There were pieces of flesh and burlap hanging from bone. Gray, oozing masses filled the eye sockets. Two more of the creatures emerged from the creek, joining the other, biting and pulling at Sammy D. Chris watched in horror as the creatures pulled furiously.
“Oh, shit! What the hell is it?” Sammy D yelled, looking down at the creatures that had hold of him. “Get me outta here!”
Chris watched in silence, too shocked to speak. He couldn’t believe what was happening. They were pulling Sammy D deeper into the creek and all Chris could do was watch. He was more afraid of these things than anything Sammy D could have done to him, but he was still unable to turn away from the hellish scene taking place before him.
Sammy D began to scream. Surely someone from the school would hear him. Someone would come to help. But as the screams continued and Sammy D was dragged deeper into the brown, muddy water, Chris knew no one would come. He also knew he would not help. He watched as Sammy D failed to free himself, his fingers searching for any hold they could get, but the ground was too soft here on the shaded creek bank. Chris heard one last plea for help before Sammy D went completely under, the water bringing a choking end to his cries. His tears mixing with the muddy creek water.
As Chris watched, only three words came to mind; hold your breath.
My short story, Blood Runs Cold, has been accepted for publication in the February 2021 issue of Schlock! Webzine. Thanks so much, Gavin.
With this book, Matt Glasby has given horror fans the ultimate list of the scariest movies of all time; the movies that keep scaring us no matter how many times we see them. From Psycho (1960) to It Chapter Two (2019), he covers all the best movies that keep us jumping. Each chapter delves deep into one movie and includes related viewing. Beautifully illustrated by Barney Bodoano, this book is a must have for any true horror fan.
I am so happy to announce that the December issue of Sirens Call Ezine is now available. They have included my short story, Deprivation. Use the link below to get your free copy.
I have been a horror fan since the age of 5. I remember laying on the living room floor, glued to the television. While my mom was doing her housework, I was getting lost in Dark Shadows. For that half hour every weekday, I lived in Collinwood. At the age of 5, Barnabas Collins was my babysitter.
I graduated to the classics; Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, Lon Chaney,Jr.. They were all great, and still are. Yes, I have loved horror for as long as I can remember. That feeling of being on the edge of your seat, not knowing what’s coming next, and even the jump scare. It all comes together to create one of the most memorable experiences you can ever have. Be it in a book or on the screen, horror stories are incredible.
I am very happy to announce that my short story, ‘ISOLATED’, has been accepted
by Blood Moon Rising Magazine for Issue #82 in January 2021. This is a great magazine and I am looking forward to seeing one of my stories included.
by Jim Graves
He didn’t know what the problem was. He had washed his hands for the third time and it was still there. Why wouldn’t the blood go away? He had never had this problem before.
The guy had begged. They all beg. ‘Please don’t kill me?’ They start praying to a God they have never acknowledged in their entire lives until the moment they are faced with their own demise, hoping He will hear them and send down some divine intervention. He never does. They all die.
He washed his hands again. Still there. “Why want it go away?” He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
The man had cried at the end, ‘Please, don’t do this? I’ll give you money.’ He had been offered money before. Did they not understand he’s already getting paid? But still, the man had cried and begged. It wears on you.
He washed again, scrubbing with the wire brush. Why were the stains still there? The floor beneath him was covered in blood. He couldn’t remember how many people he had killed.
He put the barrel of the pistol in his mouth and squeezed the trigger.