Harvest Moon, by Aaron Burch
Saw kept his eyes closed but imagined opening them, seeing night. The sun would have set, everything gone dark.
The Adversary, by Chad Frame
I walk into the confessional booth.
I haven’t been in at least a decade,
and, between you and me, I should confess
Ghost Sonnet (for Bronson), by Michelle Betters
When you died everyone came home
to fill up the church.
Leatherface, by Andrew R. Mitchell
The three of us—me and Cassie and our ten-year-old daughter, Luanne—were carving pumpkins at the kitchen table when Lu announced that her favorite movie of all time was The Texas Chain Saw Massacre.
Disguise, by Mary Heather Noble
Even now in the dawn of the seventh grade, you know that you’re taking a risk.
My Friend Bill, by Dennis W Smith
Is this a horror story? I'd rather not use that word, because it involves one of my very best friends in the distant past and there was no horror in the event I will describe.
Watching ‘Christine’ with My Mom, by Shane Kowalski
My mom says not to fall in love with a car.
Two Poems, by Holly Karapetkova
My son is afraid of zombies. He runs into my room at night. They're going to eat my brains! They’ll come in through the windows while we’re sleeping and eat our brains!
The Free Thinker and the Automaton: Polarity and Duality in Stephen Hand’s Freddy Vs. Jason: The Novelization of the Screenplay by Damian Shannon and Mark J. Swift, by Sean Gill
Freddy Vs. Jason is a quintessential tale of a clash between titans, the unstoppable force pitted against the immovable object, a crude powerhouse reckoning with a vulgar wit.
Bradley, by Jessica Berger
So, Kelsey had this ghost boyfriend, see, and it was weird because, well, for one reason, she’d met him through her younger sister, who was really like a little sister, like Kelsey’s sister was young, but before you go thinking, you know, this is the kind of fucked up story where kids are hanging out with much older people, you should remember that Bradley wasn’t, like, an actual person.
Sonnet, by Lilah Katcher
In windows behind the night glassof my second story bedroom, I seeyour one green eye as bright as a dying star.
Unconfirmed, by Christopher Locke
The woods are quiet, Daria said. Yeah, what do you mean? I mean they’re quiet. No sound. No movement. Nothing. It’s weird.
Personal Demons, by Stephen Langlois (as Nick) and Bud Smith (as Doug)
WANTED:
Hell Hunter: slayer of demons, killer of psycho clowns, fearless destroyer of creatures born from utter blackness/bleakness of bottomless pit nightmares
An Interview with a Vampire: Barrelhousing with Chase Berggrun
Barrelhouse Poetry Editor Dan Brady sat down with Chase Berggrun to discuss their book R E D, a book-length erasure of Bram Stroker’s Dracula, forthcoming from Birds, LLC.
In Forests We Haven’t Bothered to Name, by E.B. Schnepp
there once was a girl who forgot everything,who named herself Gretel.