Horror Flash Fiction

A soul for a songĀ 

The Devil asked “You rang?”

“I have this soul I have no use for,” the man said nonchalantly, “so I am seeking the highest bidder.”

The Devil’s snake eyes flashed a brilliant green and his mouth stretched into a wicked smile. “I am always the highest bidder son. So tell me, what it is you want?”

Although of course the Devil already knew. 

The man scratched his balding head, and rubbed his thunderous belly. “Well I am a fat ugly mother fucker. I’d much prefer to be handsome. Life would be much easier and I wouldn’t have to be so clever just to get a girl to speak to me.”

“You are rather old for a virgin,” the Devil agreed, a hint of feigned sympathy creeping into his voice. But then his grin returned in a blink of his slitted eye as he was very pleased with this offer. “I am not just going to make you handsome, I’m going to make you beyond gorgeous.”

“And because I am such a nice guy, I’m going to throw in a blonde as an added bonus. I think you two will do well together. She tends to go for the soulless type.”

To be continued….

The Goblin King – part one

At least once a week my sister and I try to get together and paint, and drink too much liquor, and have discussions such as what we would do if a herd of goblins moved into Las Vegas.

Is herd the correct word for a large group of goblins?

I knew immediately that I would try to make friends with the goblin king. Well maybe not “friends” exactly. I’m not sure goblins grasp the term, but perhaps a mutually benefiting relationship.

So spawned my flash fiction piece I’m working on. I wouldn’t mind if it turned into something bigger. I’m growing quite fond of my goblin king. He gives me good advice.

“Write about me. Stop writing all this foolish poetry. Do as I do, eat all your old lovers, it is by far more satisfying. Afterwards stop by my place for a smoke of gremlin weed and a couple shots of goblin whiskey. That is if you think you can hang with the goblin king.”

The Devil’s Tongue – Part One

The Auction

I’m not sure what it was that drew me to the painting, why I had to have it. Why I emptied out my entire life savings to purchase it. It was quite hideous actually. That grotesque demon-like face and that long pointed tongue.

Disgusting. Entrancing.

No, No. Disgusting.


No. Disgusting!

I had to have it.

The lady behind me was my biggest competitian. She had dyed blond hair and breasts that defied gravity. The rocks on her fingers were likely worth more than I’d ever make in a lifetime. There was no way I was going to outbid her. A fucking rich cougar. I knew it by the way she ogled men half her age.

Someone needed to declaw that bitch.

I was almost out of money and out of the corner of my eye I could see her hand start to twitch. Her painted red lips curled up as she caught my eye, knowing that she was going to win this round.

I sighed a long sigh of defeat and something in my chest felt like it was being squeezed. Shit, was I about to cry? I didn’t cry over anything. I take one more quick glance at the painting. A goodbye.

Did the demon just wink at me? I sat up straight. Was his grin a little wider? A tingling sensation started to form, first around my lips. It encircled my tongue, and then went lower, lower….OH!

I whipped my head around. A sick triumphant smile was plastered on the cougar’s lips. I slid over in my chair, leaned towards her, and I dropped my voice to a low vicious growl.

“If you go home with that painting I’m going to rip your heart out and devour it while you watch.”

To be continued….