Cheddar Moon, by Aleyna Rentz
My first crush killed a man in Ohio. His name was Taylor;
the crush, not the man, whose name I do not know.
A Brief Guide to America’s Haunted Outbuildings, by Patrick Berry
By day the Quartermain greenhouse is still an actively-maintained conservatory, boasting an impressive assortment of flowers and vegetables, along with some righteous weed.
1992, by Josh Lefkowitz
That was the year
I dressed up as confident
I loved my best friend
but candy more
Three Poems, by Jeannine Hall Gailey
It will happen on a sunny day when other thingsare happening that are more important
Two Poems, by Christina Beasley
It was the day of the dead. We pitchedour discreet rows of canvas mausoleums;
Avô, by Hugo Dos Santos
His flawless routine. The tea pot whistle: the slow pour: the towel draped over his head: his face over the bowl: the steam emanating.
A Ghost Story, by p. e. garcia
the ghost is a presence defined by negative space, a nothingness gripping your leg, your waist, your lungs, your throat, your tongue, creating a silence surrounded by static.
That Time of the Month, by Colette Arrand
One of the things Peter liked most about nights when the moon was full was that under its light he turned into a woman.
The Johnson Farm Outbreak, by Graham Robert Scott
When the zombies came, they were kinda lame.
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.