Niteblade #9 - Dead Teenagers at Make-out Point

Fiction

The Teething Ring by Beth Cato
She made it to the high ridge and leaned her shoulder against a pine tree, every muscle throbbing. She set down the suitcase and reached for her water bottle, and that’s when she heard it. The singing. The high, quivering notes like a chorus of adolescent boys, but with a vibrato more intense than any mere human could muster.

Green by Lisa Marie Andrews
The end of civilization brought the end of culture. The unacceptable became the norm.

Dead Teenagers at Make-Out Point by Joe L. Murr
How long has it been since a heart beat inside me? My borrowed body collapses and I try to remember to breathe.

Help? by Scott Wilson
“The longer this takes the more I lose these bastards.”

The Real Snow White by Kristin Lanoue
I mean no matter how much of a brat a kid is, there is no reason to have a huntsman take her into the woods to kill her, and the whole bring back her lungs and liver so I can eat them deal, that’s just nasty.

The Return of Chaos by Salena Casha
Like loneliness, in the beginning I did not understand fear. But each time Sapia turned her eyes toward me, fear vibrated in my magma heart, sending shivers through my core, cracking the land into deep divots.

Medusa’s Lament by Aubrie Dionne
He swung and Medusa spun around the dead king, brushing the warrior’s torso with her long, slender arms. She felt the heat of his strong body for a brief moment, before she whisked herself away.

New Neighbor by Jack Thrift
Which isn’t to say I wasn’t curious. Especially after a few months went by and I realized I hadn’t seen the guy. At night I could hear his voice through the walls — not his words, just his voice.

Penance by J.A. Saare
The spirits of the departed children turned as I approached, but I made way to one in particular. She was the smallest of the bunch, only five years old when she was killed.

Prison Dreams by Fred Warren
His eyes traced the path of a thin crack that ran across the block ceiling, and he remembered the dream he’d had every night since his arrest.

Cold Too Long by Heather S. Ingmar
The bones came out easily, one by one, and he threw them aside. Later, he would lay them in the coffin, re-burying it all.

Poetry
From Your Balcony by Melissa Marriott
Untitled by Greg Schwartz
Untitled by Greg Schwartz
Gender Characteristics by F.J. Bergmann
Alien Beauty by Guy Antibes
traditions by Brett Matthew Graham
What’s for Dinner? by Ash Krafton
Free Fall by Holly Dayi
Everything Bleeds by Michael Fosburg
The Dragon and the Troll by Marge Simon
Blackened Borderland by Peter Diseth