.........MUTANT RAIN FOREST ISSUE........JUNE, 2016
Illustrations above by Shasta Lawton.

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Tuesday, December 8, 2015

A SILENT NIGHT (FOR A DEMI-GHOUL): II

by Vincent Daemon


Chapter II

 



Angelfire



 A lone family of four deer (comprised of an immense eight-point buck, an exquisite doe, and two mid-sized fawns) had quite the short-lived startlement as the large glowing red rock came barreling through the trees and right onto their feeding ground. The deer scattered as the meteor struck piles of dried leaves and pine needles with a loud dull thud, leaving a noxious scent in its wake and a small but quickly burnt out brush-fire.

 The tight knit herd of Cervidae very slowly returned to inspect the sizzling rock as it began to cool, crackling as it did so. They gathered around, not only due to that innocent curiosity deer seem to have about new things introduced to their territory, but also to appreciate the heat rapidly fading away with the low and deep reddish glow of the three-foot diameter ball from the sky. 

 As the deer cautiously moved closer and closer in, the cooling spheroid continued to crackle, this time with a much louder ripping-of-rock sound, stopping the deer dead in their tracks again. As the rock split in two from the inside, a bright red light emanated from within. The light blinded all four deer into complete stillness, freezing them from acting upon their usual nervous nature, and they didn’t seem to notice the heaving, hunched form lurking from within that forceful red glow. 

 With nary a warning or sound the monstrous thing leapt up and out of the radiance from within the rock, and with a set of massive, purple razor-sharp claws it spun around counter-clockwise in an unexpected explosion of sheer bestial rage, tearing the throats of all four of the deer family haphazardly out in one fell swoop, their bodies falling to the ground and gibbering through breaths torn open with gurgling sounds of anguish. The creature who did this emitted a brutal roar of something most assuredly not from this earth. 

 The beast looked down at its still not quite dead, twitching, oblivious prey. It then hunched back down and began to feast upon its fresh kills like a greedy and starving homeless schizophrenic left alone in the shelter kitchen for too long. It stuffed itself sick, vomiting up the contents almost immediately, bone fragments and all, then re-stuffing them back down into its all too eager guts. The beast’s meal stayed down after it sucked up the vomitous remains, this apparently being a part of its eating process. The sloppy belches, regurgitation, and suckling broke the still of the night in two.  

 In fact, it had already broken the fabric of many a-thing. The beast surveyed its surroundings, its night vision in any circumstances being of the utmost perfection. It looked at the dark woods, at the pile of fresh and steaming remains it had just left of the easy prey, and inhaled the crisp December air deep into itself, exhaling out a second, different kind of sound, low and more like an extended raspy wheeze. It then examined the crystal clear, starry night and spread its immense arms wide, upon which a set of purplish-red, thick leathery wings splayed out, attached to its back. With a small bend of its hyena-like legs, the bizarre creature launched itself up into the sky, bashing through the thick tangle of dead leafless tree branches with all the ease of having kicked over a Lincoln-Log house. 

 As John wandered the dark road, mind already a-flutter with racing thoughts of his ever-mounting frustrations, he realized this was the thing he could have sworn he saw soaring, almost formless in the dark and starry moonless night. A silhouetted shape not of anything he’d ever borne witness to.  A monstrous thing larger than any human or the wingspan of some night bird. The thing’s silhouette blocked out the shimmering glow shed from all the dead stars that littered the empty blackness. 

 But this thing was blacker than any of those empty spaces. This thing felt to John like that blackness.  He spotted it, of course, immediately after two of the worst animalistic howls he’d ever heard. They were not the sounds of any standard creature in the Dolton area. John at first thought the sounds may be due to foxes in heat, but that is too recognizable, and this was the wrong time of year. These sounds came from no fox, no stray bear or mountain lion. He had no idea what they could have come from. But after seeing that ghastly form in the sky that blocked out the stars only moments after the blood-curdling screeches, he began to triple-time it to Corman’s. Visions of the first attack from An American Werewolf In London danced in his stressed-out head, sending shockwaves down his shivering spine, flowing like the primordial warnings they indeed were.







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Chapter III




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Archive of Stories
and Authors

Sanford Meschkow's
INEVITABLE

Sanford Meschkow is a retired former
NYer who married a Philly suburban
Main Line girl. Sanford has been pub-
lished in a 1970s issue of AMAZING.
We welcome him here on the FREE-
ZINE of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

Brian "Flesheater" Stoneking's
THE RECIDIVIST



Brian "Flesheater" Stoneking's
THE MEMORY SECTOR

Brian "Flesheater" Stoneking currently
resides in the high desert of Phoenix,
Arizona where he enjoys campy horror
movies within the comfort of an Insane
Asylum. Search for his science fiction
stories at The Intestinal Fortitude in
the Flesheater's World section.
The Memory Sector is his first
appearance in the Freezine of
Fantasy and Science Fiction.

Owen R. Powell's
NOETIC VACATIONS

Little is known of the mysterious
Owen R. Powell (oftentimes referred
to as Orp online). That is because he
usually keeps moving. The story
Noetic Vacations marks his first
appearance in the Freezine.

Edward Morris's
MERCY STREET

Edward Morris is a 2011 nominee for
the Pushcart Prize in literature, has
also been nominated for the 2009
Rhysling Award and the 2005 British
Science Fiction Association Award.
His short stories have been published
over a hundred and twenty times in
four languages, most recently at
PerhihelionSF, the Red Penny Papers'
SUPERPOW! anthology, and The
Magazine of Bizarro Fiction. He lives
and works in Portland as a writer,
editor, spoken word MC and bouncer,
and is also a regular guest author at
the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival.

Gene Stewart
(writing as Art Wester)
GROUND PORK


Gene Stewart's
CRYPTID'S LAIR

Gene Stewart is a writer and artist.
He currently lives in the Midwest
American Wilderness where he is
researching tales of mystical realism,
writing ficta mystica, and exploring
the dark by casting a little light into
the shadows. Follow this link to his
website where there are many samples
of his writing and much else; come
explore.

Adam Bolivar's
SERVITORS OF THE
OUTER DARKNESS


Adam Bolivar's
THE DEVIL & SIR
FRANCIS DRAKE



Adam Bolivar's
THE TIME-EATER


Adam Bolivar is an expatriate Bostonian
who has lived in New Orleans and Berkeley,
and currently resides in Portland, Oregon
with his beloved wife and fluffy gray cat
Dahlia. Adam wears round, antique glasses
and has a fondness for hats. His greatest
inspirations include H.P. Lovecraft,
Jack tales and coffee.


David Agranoff's
A PLANET OF YOUR OWN


David Agranoff's
THE FALLEN GUARDIAN'S MANDATE


David Agranoff is the author of the
short story collection Screams From
A Dying World, just published by
Afterbirth Books. David is a hardcore
vegan and tireless environmentalist.
His contributions to the punk horror
scene and the planet in general have
already established him as a bright
new writer and activist to watch out
for. The Freezine of Fantasy and
Science Fiction welcomes him and
his defiant vision open-heartedly.

David is a busy man, usually at work
on several different novels or projects
at once. He is sure to leave his mark on
a world teetering over the edge of
ecological imbalance. David's latest
books include the Wuxia -Pan
(martial arts fantasy) horror
novel called Hunting The Moon Tribe,
already out from Afterbirth Books.;
The Vegan Revolution...with Zombies,
[Deadite Press, 2010]; and
[Deadite Press, 2014]

Daniel José Older's
GRAVEYARD WALTZ


Daniel José Older's
THE COLLECTOR


Daniel José Older's spiritually driven,
urban storytelling takes root at the
crossroads of myth and history.
With sardonic, uplifting and often
hilarious prose, Older draws from
his work as an overnight 911 paramedic,
a teaching artist & an antiracist/antisexist
organizer to weave fast-moving, emotionally
engaging plots that speak whispers and
shouts about power and privilege in
modern day New York City. His work
has appeared in the Freezine of Fantasy
and Science Fiction, The ShadowCast
the collection Sunshine/Noir, and is
featured in Sheree Renee Thomas'
Black Pot Mojo Reading Series in Harlem.

When he's not writing, teaching or
riding around in an ambulance,
Daniel can be found performing with
his Brooklyn-based soul quartet
Ghost Star. His blog about the
ridiculous and disturbing world
of EMS can be found here.


Johnny Strike's
AS YOU WISH



Johnny Strike's
NIGHT FLAMERS



Johnny Strike's
THE HOMELESS MUTANTS



Johnny Strike will beat you with his guitar
and leave you lying in the gutter wishing you
had never dared enter his under ground world
of fake passports, lucky amulets, rain soaked
hotels, and occult mystique. If you don't leave
nice comments under his story, he's sure to sic
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Ports Of Hell (Headpress), recommended by
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from William Lee himself unless you are the
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CRIME's album Exalted Masters? It was
released in 2007 on the Crime Music label,
on vinyl only, featuring a slew of their old
rare hits. Its real punk music from seasoned
veterans. Now go track yourself down a copy
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From Above (Rudos and Rubes).


Paul Stuart's
SEA?TV!


Paul Stuart is the author of numerous
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in a shiny, west-coast magazine that features
pictures of expensive homes, as well as images
of women in casual poses and their accessories.
Consider writing him at paul@twilightlane.com,
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2010, look for Grade 12 Trigonometry and
Pre-Calculus -With Zombies.


Rain Grave's
MAU BAST


Rain Graves is an award winning
author of horror, science fiction and
poetry. She is best known for the 2002
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David Niall Wilson). Her most
recent book, Barfodder: Poetry
Written in Dark Bars and Questionable
Cafes, has been hailed by Publisher's
Weekly as "Bukowski meets Lovecraft..."
in January of 2009. She lives and
writes in San Francisco, performing
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Icy Sedgwick's
THE PORCELAIN WOMAN


Icy Sedgwick is part writer and part
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ebooks, free weekly fiction and other
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Blag Dahlia's
armed to the teeth
with LIPSTICK



BLAG DAHLIA is a Rock Legend.
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‘ARMED to the TEETH with LIPSTICK’.


G. Alden Davis's
THE FOLD


G. Alden Davis wrote his first short story
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writing scholarship for the effort. Soon
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not enough, and left for art school. He was
awarded the Emeritus Fellowship along
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Shae Sveniker's
A NEW METAPHYSICAL STUDY
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Nigel Strange's
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daughter, cats, and tiny dog-like thing
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J.R. Torina's
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J.R. Torina was DJ for Sonic Slaughter-
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K.B. Updike, Jr's
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has lost his Virginian virginity yet.)