Micro Fiction Horror
These are the stories of 100 words that intrigue us most.
* 90% Beef by Kamran Connelly
​
* My Mother's Eyes by Leslie Wibberley
​
* Melted by Deanna Davidson
​
* The Dead Ones by Andy Hawthorne
​
* Tempting the Night by Kamea Kyon
​
* Santa's Here! by Christopher Mattravers-Taylor
​
* To Jump or Not to Jump by Tina Wingham
​
* Family Tradition by James Kowalczyk
​
* Mermaids Attend Family Swim by Colleen Addison
90% Beef
by
Kamran Connelly
Day ninety-three, they call off the search. Twenty-seven missing children over three years. Same story, no clues, no bodies recovered.
The news report plays on TV as they flood my restaurant, famished from their exhaustive effort. Local cops, out-of-state marshals, alphabet agents.
They all want to taste my famous burgers.
A plump cop comes back for seconds, the ketchup of his first burger still clinging to the corners of his mouth. “I’ve been hearing about this joint for a few years now. What’s your secret?” he asks.
I laugh, “I could tell you. But you wouldn’t believe me.”
​​
​
​
Kam’s short story BLOOD BANK due to be released by Baynam Books and DEATH BED INC accepted by Twisted Dreams Press, is published online at The Horror Tree, Trembling with Fear, WitCraft, and T. Saunders publishing for his works of fiction. Has poetry featured in three anthologies, a novella featured in the Paul Cave Prize for literature. And is shopping around his debut novel, The Extinction Process.
My Mother's Eyes
by
Leslie Wibberley
I have my mother’s eyes.
I never wanted any part of her, especially not her eyes. Her cold, unforgiving eyes. My sister insisted it was my duty, as the oldest, to take them. I agreed, but only for a year.
Today marks the anniversary of Mom’s death.
Washed-out blue and glassy, her eyes float in the jar of formaldehyde. They’ve shrivelled to half their original size, but even depleted like this, their judgemental gaze still has the power to make me cringe.
I dump them into the toilet and press the lever, smiling as they disappear.
Such a fitting end.
​
​
​
Leslie Wibberley's work has been published in multiple anthologies and literary magazines, including Pulp Literature and the Bram Stoker-nominated anthology: Not All Monsters, and has placed first in Writers Digest's Annual Competition and Popular Fiction Awards, the Chanticleer International Book Awards, and the Pacific Northwest Literary Contest. She is represented by Naomi Davis of Bookends Literary.
Melted
by
Deanna Davidson
The light of a burning candle hypnotizes me, controlling my mind. I relax, body slumping, eyes unfocused on everything except the whispering flames. They lull me into submission, and I wonder how they would feel against my scared hands. I plunge them into the fire, welcoming the soft tingles dancing across my skin. Heat licks my fingers, charred flesh crackling like sparklers. Melted flesh drips from blackened bones, gathering in the wax pool, blood turning it red. The trance evaporates, releasing my mind from hypnotic shackles. Pain replaces warmth with icy shards. I scream as my bones turn to dust.
​
​
​
​
Deanna has received a Bachelor's Degree in English: Creative Writing at California State University, Northridge, as of May 2025. Her work has been featured in Sword & Kettle Press, Mythulu Magazine, Northridge Review, ParABnormal Magazine, Flash Phantoms, Milk & Cake Press, Vine Leaves Press, and Five Minutes.
The Dead Ones
by
Andy Hawthorne
Will Bennett talked to dead people. The departed wandered, confused and needy. He sat in the park, smoking. The first one approached: a middle-aged woman. “Can you help me?”
“No. You’re dead.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. You’ll drift off soon.” He exhaled smoke.
“You’ll be here soon.”
Will spun around. A tall man with black eyes and purple veins sneered at him.
“You what?”
The man swung a gleaming, razor-sharp axe. Will ducked, but he was too slow. His head exploded in an arterial spray of crimson.
The smoke from his cigarette rose silently, joining the ghosts in the morning air.
​
Andy Hawthorne is a 61 year-old indie author from Coventry, England. He usually writes comedy. He has six published novels on Amazon. But sometimes, he wanders into the shadows.
Tempting the Night
by
Kamea Kyon
She had one leg deep under the covers, the other hanging precariously off the bed, tempting the chill to grab it. Or the hairy monster, vampire, serial killer, etc. The girl didn’t need to open her eyes to know they were there – the scary thing with arms, however sentient – reaching out towards her. Each of the horror movies she had ever watched lay dormant until she turned out the light. Here’s Johnny, and, We all float down here, echoing throughout her skull. The fear never ebbed, but that didn’t stop her from letting her leg droop over the edge, tempting.
​
​
Kamea Kyon is a Creative Writing student from Michigan. She writes from her own experiences, both real and imagined. Her work has been featured in BRUISER, and is forthcoming from Haunted Words Press. She can be found on Instagram @meareads.
Santa's Here!
by
Christopher Mattravers-Taylor
“Ho, ho, ho.” The deep voice rumbles from downstairs.
Santa’s here! I yank the duvet higher; he hates it when people peek.
“No mince pies for Santa? Naughty boy.” Heavy boots thud up the stairs.
Oh God, I forgot. I burrow deeper into the bed.
The bedroom door crashes open. I try to stop trembling.
Silence, then with a roar, Santa rips the duvet off. Angry, glowing eyes regard me over a greasy, matted beard. A red-robed titan, he easily lifts me with one gloved hand. I scream as he thrusts me into his putrid sack.
“Rudolph will feast tonight.”
​
​
Christopher Mattravers-Taylor has had short stories longlisted, shortlisted, broadcast, named finalist and published. He lives in Bristol, UK, with an amazing wife and two wonderful children. His writing is coloured by his experiences as a long term ME/CFS sufferer, particle physicist, property developer, core driller, disability benefits claimant, and more besides.
To Jump or Not to Jump
by
Tina Wingham
The inky black chasm stretched out before me, flooding my memories with the predictable doom that was my life.
What could I do? The possibilities drifted around me like a plastic bag caught in the wind.
If I jumped, I could sink to the bottom, never to be seen again. I could hit my head and drown, or I could be trapped down there, withering slowly away until I was a pile of old bones that no one would ever find.
If I stayed, nothing would happen.
But what would be worse?
​
​
Tina Wingham is an Australian horror and dark fiction author known for her emotionally charged storytelling and unsettling, atmospheric worlds. Drawn to the shadows of human nature, she explores fear, grief, survival and the fragile line between reality and nightmare. Her work blends psychological tension with vivid, cinematic detail, inviting readers to feel every heartbeat, every breath, and every flicker of doubt.
Facebook-
https://www.facebook.com/share/1Cu7bMDQZo/?mibextid=wwXIfr
Instagram-
https://www.instagram.com/tina.wingham?igsh=MnRjbHowcjliOHdj&utm_source=qr
Family Tradition
by
James Kowalczyk
"If you make the knot just right, the eyes get real red and bulge, and the tongue shoots out. It's great!" Spinner's eyes twinkled as he recounted this image.
"Josh says it only happens if he’s definitely innocent,” his brother Jet frowned, holding his breath at times when the stench of old sweat and blood rose up from the rope in his hands. Their father had used this same rope when as a kid he prepared for his first one.
“Wanna bet?” Spinner asked.
That afternoon, Jet paid his brother as he stared at the body hanging from the tree.
​
​
​
James Kowalczyk was born and raised in Brooklyn but now lives in Northern California with his wife, two daughters, and three cats. His flash fiction and poetry has appeared in numerous online as well as print publications. He teaches English at the high school and college levels.
Mermaids Attend Family Swim
by
Colleen Addison
We thought they came in through the drains. When we stumbled out onto the poolside stucco, their tails were there, swishing playfully through the chlorine. At first, we didn’t see the danger. Their long hair fell like fairy tales, and they hid their sharp teeth behind carmine lips that curved upwards.
When their claws scratched, their laughs trinkled sweetly enough that we ignored the pain; we let them hold out their arms for our children. Still, there was hunger in their eyes. We lifted our goggles, but too late; they were biting our babies. Into our gaping mouths rushed pool water, rushed blood.
​
​
Colleen Addison completed an MA in English and Creative Writing, followed by a PhD in health information; she then promptly got sick herself. Her work, written for joy between surgeries, has been published in Painted Pebble Lit Mag, Flash Phantoms, and River Teeth. She is a winner of the George Dila Memorial Flash Fiction contest with Third Wednesday.