She killed another overnight. Now what, she thought, as she headed to the woods with the dead body. She had to be careful not to draw carrion eaters near her house, that would lead to other problems.

How many did this make, four, five, six? She lost count. Meaningless lives, they disgusted her. No one would miss them. Any of them. How many more would she have to kill before she could sleep soundly? She stopped and thought. Five dead, she was sure now, then proceeded to open the mouse trap and let the lifeless body fall to the ground.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

With his apartment empty and no sounds other than the ticking of the clock, Timothy took a walk in the cold night air until a bright sign caught his eye. Psychic Reading. Reluctantly, he went inside.

Still on the ground, her eyes open, Tianna was dead.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

He gazed at her, longingly, knowing that it would never be. His dream crashing down upon the floor. Broken words won’t help no more. Her mind was made. His heart–betrayed. He brushed her cheek: a simple good-bye. What more could be done? What more could he supply? He fell to his knees, “my sweet don’t leave!” But, she just left him there to grieve. He fell to the ground, in a sprawl, as the only sound he heard were high heels, echoing off the wall.

Take life’s hand and run with fate.

From Guest Contributor McKenzie A. Frey

Having left my car behind, smashed against a tree in the forest, I’ve been walking for hours, with the snow and wind against my face. My feet half frozen, barely able to breathe and my hands numb, I’m lonely and afraid. If only I could see in front of me, but it’s becoming dark and the snow distorts my vision.

I can’t go any further. I fall to the cushioned ground and pray my death will be painless. I close my eyes and feel the snow cover my body. I drift off, and the last thing I see is darkness.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

She stood in the snow holding a single white carnation facing the cold wall of names. She whispered, turning to the man beside her, “Sir, do you host other events here?”

“He said he’d come back.” Soon the tears she had held back then flowed down her face, “I’ve been waiting.”

From Guest Contributor Jasmine Som

As a paleo-vegan, Jasmine loves dehydrating fruits to take with her when she hikes. While others stalk celebrities, she looks up new recipes to get creative with. Sadly, cooking with her heavy cast iron pots has her taking on a new workout routine that includes a weight lifting regimen.

Crowds of strangers gather to see an unfamiliar lightning storm. The thunder roars and howls as the storm grows angrier. The ground begins to shake and rumble. Lightning bolts strike near and far.

The invasion has just begun.

From Guest Contributor Alexa Findlay

Alexa is an Undergraduate student at the University of California, Riverside. She spends her time writing fiction and poetry. Her work has been featured in Pomona Valley Review, Better than Starbucks Magazine, Adelaide Literary Magazine, Halcyon Days, Grotesque Magazine, and Blood Moon Rising Magazine amongst others.

It took Jim more than a half hour to arrive at his wife Kate’s grave. The flowers he brought were withered from the heat and drops of sweat dripped down the nape of his neck.

When Jim left, a rose petal dropped to the ground.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Todd places a bouquet of red roses on his wife’s grave. The rain pelts down and the flowers wither. He sighs and kneels on the muddy ground, tears filling his eyes. Drenched from head to toe, he doesn’t care. It’s been two months since Maria died from cancer and his chest aches. He has no family, only his job to keep him company.

After several minutes, the rain stops and the roses return to their natural beauty.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

It was a warm sunny day on September 11, 2001. Lori remembered the towers imploding, the sadness and knot in her chest from the horror. She never forgot the sight of human bodies dropping to the ground as she watched from the window with watery eyes and shaking hands. She paced the floor as her other colleagues stayed silently glued to the window. The only words were those on the phone for panicked loved ones.

Lori will never forget.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The rain pelted against the windshield and traffic was at a standstill. Impatient drivers honked their horns to no avail and I tuned them out with my radio. Finally, the traffic began to move, but the rain didn’t let up. Every car was crawling. My stomach gurgled from hunger and my throat was parched. It had been two hours.

I shut off the radio and drove the rest of the ride home in silence.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher