A classic horror novel made even better. Literate, dark humor peppers this popular tale of 60s hippies that has been selling since first published in 1992. Greater depth and additional twists add to the fun in this new author’s edition as ill-fated friends making their way between two oceans create their own ocean of blood. Literate, dark humor peppers this popular tale of READ MORE…
Once upon a midnight dreary, I got really bored. So I stooped to calling my ex of a week ago.
He said, “Nevermore.”
I texted half a dozen friends.
None responded. It was, after all, Saturday night.
I paced. I fretted. I recklessly left my place without as much as my coat.
The cold slapped me with a moment of clarity; a voice within me said, “Go back home, you April Fool!”
I ignored it.
“Need some company, little girl?”
Of all the ridiculous lines. Man sounded like he was eighty if he was a day. What was I wearing anyway? I looked down. Oops! Not much.
“Need to borrow my coat, little girl?”
Now that wasn’t a bad idea. I felt a coat being wrapped around my shoulders. It smelled of cheap alcohol. At least cheaper than the shit I’d been slugging away all night.
“This way, little girl…”
A beefy, heavy arm wrapped itself around my shoulders next. We were approaching a dark alley.
I jerked away. After all, even drunk out of my mind, I’m not a complete fool.
“You can trust me, little girl…”
“Yeah, sure.” I threw the coat back at him.
“If you want to live, little girl, you better trust me…”
Didn’t think it was possible, but even the wind wasn’t as cold as those words. Then I saw his face, oddly warm and pleading. It was about then I sensed something even colder than his words behind me.
Just before I turned away from him, I saw resignation flood the face of the man with the coat, as he turned away from me.
I turned to see what was behind me and felt a shiver run through me as I looked into a smiling face that I knew wasn’t even human.
My last thought before the teeth and claws tore all thoughts from me was, “Nevermore.”