Eschatology

The Journal of Lovecraftian and Apocalyptic Fiction

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SEED by Kristina R. Mosley

Posted by Bruce L. Priddy on May 2, 2012
Posted in: Kristina R. Mosley. Tagged: Flash Fiction, Horror, Kristina R. Mosley. 3 comments

Chloe stood with broom in hand, intent on ridding her kitchen of the dust, hair, and dried leaves that sat in the corners.  She swept a pile of trash into the dustpan.  Something rattled against the plastic.  She assumed it was a pebble and emptied the contents into the trashcan.  A dark object in the floor caught her eye.  She almost didn’t see it at first because it was black, blending in with the baseboard.  It didn’t look like a pebble.

The woman stared at the object.  It was about the size of a watermelon seed.  Its shiny black surface reminded her of one as well.  How did that get there? she wondered as she picked it up.  It was hard and diamond-shaped.  Neon green striations marked its dark surface.  Burrs on the outer edge of the seed poked her fingers.

“I guess I tracked it in,” she said aloud.  “What kind of plant comes from this, though?”  She turned the thing over in her palm.  It moved on its own.

“What the hell?” Continue Reading

AN UNFORTUNATE METAPHOR by Nishant Paul

Posted by Bruce L. Priddy on April 25, 2012
Posted in: Nishant Paul. Tagged: Flash Fiction, Horror, Nishaunt Paul. 2 comments

I require your assistance, and for this I require you to remain in the state that you are currently: delusional.

By no fault of your own.  Not a fault at all, in fact.  True sight is dangerous.  To discern is to die.  Do you see the complexity of the situation?  You must see enough to comprehend metaphor, but you cannot believe what you see.  You must realise the truth, but only in the capacity of falsity.  The first step is to recognise it.  For instance:

There are not words.

I do not exist.

I am here only because you think I should be, and if you believed those words then I would no longer be here now; there would only be you.  But you did not, and that is good.  That is what I require from you: perception in disbelief.  It is not the sight that will blind you, but the belief.  You must assume against your better judgement.  You must see through the eyes of a sceptic. Continue Reading

THE LAST DAYS OF SUMMER CAMP by Brian M. Sammons

Posted by Bruce L. Priddy on April 19, 2012
Posted in: Brian M. Sammons. Tagged: Brian Sammons, Flash Fiction, Horror, Zombies. 3 comments

Dear mom and dad,

I hate it here at Camp Wynnaquett. I really, really do. I hate it more now than I did in my last letter to you. Please come and get me, I want to go home. It’s not just the other boys picking on me anymore. Scary people are hurting kids and camp counselors too. Some of the counselors are gone. Like missing gone, not just not hear gone. No one knows where they are and that made everybody even more scared.

And I hurt my leg. Yesterday while swimming in the lake someone bit me on my left leg. I felt someone’s hand grab my foot and then he bite me. The counselors said I imagined it. The grab, not the bite. Someone really did bite me, honest. But the counselors said it was just a turtle bite. They said it wasn’t really that bad and they put bandages on me but it still hurts lots. They said I was just scared of the stories the older boys were telling about Timmy Swanson and that I just imagined someone grabbing me, but that’s not it. Really it’s not. Also, I think the camp counselors were lying when they said that. I saw them look at each other after looking at my leg and they looked scared. Later I heard Matt, the nice counselor I told you about, say that it sure wasn’t any turtle that bit me but Randy, the head camp counselor told him to be quiet. Continue Reading

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  • Eschatology is an online journal of Lovecraftian and apocalyptic flash fiction. Our goal is to become the premiere source for high quality fiction. Stories are published every Wednesday.
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