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Short Stories

Lost In Space...Beagle 2 by Harvey Kennett The true story of Beagle 2 ? Apologies to Yanks in general... [1,105 words]
The Happy Housewife by April Griffin A short but powerfull tale of a battered woman. [980 words]
Mind's Shadow by J Shartzer A teenager is engrossed in the search for the reason of his girlfriend's sudden suicide. [8,115 words]
Melancholy Polly by J Shartzer A young woman with a bizzare history is deeply affected by her mother's death. [1,579 words]
Your Little God Is Pooh And Creepy Too by Xoggoth Only the innocent find salvation. In the run up to the revelation the ki... [1,442 words]
The Three Rotten Sisters by Christopher W Sorenson A funny short story about three snoody women who marry three fine gentlemen. In the e... [789 words]
The Markings Of An Angle by Narinder Bhambra A short story. [1,398 words]
The Fly And... by Xoggoth That Geoff Goldblum had it easy! One fly?? I should have been so lucky! [483 words]
The Difference-1 by Sukesh Srivastava An emotional story of sacrifices made for each other in the family. [4,595 words]
The Diary Of Mystery by Hazli Ghazali Collection of Hazli's short stories under the topic of mystery, a lot to think and discove... [3,982 words]
The Come Back by Bryan Meckley About a successful overdose. [2,157 words]
Ripple Effect by E Rocco Caldwell A scientist has discovered time travel or maybe his own descent into insanity. [838 words]
Providing For Sarah by Xoggoth A desolate man finds comfort in an imaginary (?) companion. But who will care for her when ... [883 words]
Pakistani Feast by Jerry Pat Bolton A man, alone in the jungles of Pakistani, become surrounded by a pride of tigers. [1,681 words]
Night Ride by P J Lawton A tired young man accepts a ride from a mysterious stranger. [1,463 words]
My Eternal Triangle by Erasmus Flynt - [710 words]
Monica's Pie by Paul B Kramer Reklon Harponip, a Turkish lad on his own in America, identifies with Monica Lewinsky's plight as ... [3,062 words]
Man Skin by Harvey Kennett When you sleep, what happens to your dreams ? [776 words]
Hell Is A Personal Place by Erasmus Flynt Each of us has a personal idea of Hell! [1,043 words]
Goodnight Sweet Kevin by Harvey Kennett It concerns me that we, as a species, follow trends and "buzzwords", and anyone who dares... [603 words]
God's Trainees by Xoggoth Him upstairs is thinking of retiring, all he needs to do is train up some suitable replacements.... [1,570 words]
Fury Of Steele by Robert E Tadlock The drug lords of Hong Kong are trying to take over L.A. But Hong Kong itself will feel the fury... [2,686 words]
Free Road by Deon Coetzee The possibility that life may be ended with a happy parting of one's shadow, ie. suicide, that is not... [194 words]
Food For Thought by P J Lawton Ever wonder where the food of the future will come from? [973 words]
Do You Remember Now? by E Daugherty - [703 words]
Did You Hear The One About The Three Icelandic Bishops by Gypsey Teague When you invite a guest into your home, be prepared for ... [493 words]
Death Walk by P J Lawton A space ship crashes on a lonely planet leaving the crew a long walk to safety. [1,147 words]
Changing To Go Out by Xoggoth In the aftermath of the genetic bomb, a simple night at the pictures with the missus is no e... [444 words]
Business Card by E Rocco Caldwell Madness can be in a simple telephone call. [723 words]
Back To The Garden by Xoggoth Depressing the extent to which everything is being dumbed down these days. Poor state educat... [527 words]
A Conversation With God by Kevin Myrick Basically, its a short story with sort of a twisted view on the whole walking with god ... [1,230 words]
The Music I Held by E Daugherty - [802 words]
Licorice Tea by Shelley J Alongi This is a story I havent' worked into my novel yet; it's how Rachel makes a decision to fall in lo... [3,590 words]
Twisted Figures by Rae Just wrote it down as it came to mind.. no sense or anything :) [294 words]
Things To Do Before I Die by Gypsey Teague Everyone makes lists. Some mean more than others. [1,045 words]
The Waitress Fom Hell by Richard Koss The story of a patron's ongoing feud with an over-the-hill waitress. [750 words]
The Soldier by Solo A darkly lyrical tale of an old soldier seperated from his men behind enemy lines who takes on a mi... [8,019 words]
The Siege Of Tar Ebon by Dayne Edmondson This is a story of human kind's greatest hour of need. [2,501 words]
The Man I Call My Dad by Justin M Chapman A story about my dad that I wrote for a class. It tells about him. [979 words]
The Gatekeeper Of The Heaven by Partha Pratim Majumder Theme : Hypothetically, the concept of God,heaven etc. are all created by and pr... [2,419 words]
The Divine Inside Of Thoughts by Elroy Jamoke Lloyd Auto-bio piece... [4,442 words]
The Clearing by E Rocco Caldwell A simple ghost story that happens to be true. [783 words]
Spirits Revolt by Jack Roland Butter When Donna moves to her new Californian house she can't believe her luck. Soon she discovers tha... [1,079 words]
Simon Says: The Case Of The Singing Lady Blues by P J Lawton A hard-boiled private detective makes a fatal mistake. He can't ... [3,757 words]
Simon Says: Case Of Vengeance By The Letter by P J Lawton A hard-boiled private detective's past comes back to haunt him. [3,972 words]
Simon Says: Case Of The Deadly Diamond Dupe by P J Lawton A hard-boiled private detective reluctantly gets involved in a terr... [3,813 words]
Shadow Cat by John Caruso On a cold winter day a feral kitten wandered out of the wooded paradise surrounding our home in west... [22,470 words]
Roundabout Love by Kevin Myrick The story of two people who shouldn't be able to fall in love, but came together. [1,187 words]
Pyscho Librarian by Sarah Beresh About a librarian who was a Physco killer and told all her lil library kids about her past the... [1,849 words]
Not Much Like Christmas by Stephanie A Erickson A short story based on the song "Christmas By The Phone" by Good Charlotte. Also based ... [2,616 words]
Neighbors by Shelley J Alongi Aviation story. This story takes place before Andrew meets Anne in his spactacular early morning lan... [1,523 words]
Mom's Color Code by Partha Pratim Majumder Relationship between mother and son. The very intricate relationship that needs no description... [1,287 words]
Managing by Shelley J Alongi Twenty years after marriage, and despite life, Anne and Andrew still manage to hold everything togethe... [2,329 words]
Last Day by Shelley J Alongi Aviation Story 18. Anne and Andrew, a sinus headache, troublesome passengers, a frantic boss, and the ... [2,335 words]
Landing Part Two by Shelley J Alongi Aviation story. Relationship conflict. Melanie talks to Laura about Jeff. [1,765 words]
Landing Part Three by Shelley J Alongi Origins of the accident. Pleasant flight. [1,176 words]
Landing Part One by Shelley J Alongi Anaviation story. A pilot is caught between a rock and a hard place, literally, leading to a ... [1,637 words]
Landing Part Four by Shelley J Alongi Melanie is afraid. [1,480 words]
Landing Part Five by Shelley J Alongi Jeff's dream. [1,033 words]
Jolly John's Last Laugh by Partha Pratim Majumder In 1963 , A young Englishman bought an old Bunglow at the foothills of Himalayas near ... [2,437 words]
Is It Real Or Is It Memorex? by D G Williford You tell me... [82 words]
Billy And Jason by Ashley A Selsing Jason meets a new kid, Billy, who steals his things. At first they are enemies, but they then ... [1,382 words]
Back Page News by E Rocco Caldwell The thoughts of a dying US soldier on the road to baghdad. [805 words]
Attack Of The Sans by Randy Johnson A Space Warrior named Fland travels to a planet called Narburg and battles intelligent Slug ... [3,022 words]
An Encounter With Evil by P J Lawton A young man's search for the bizarre gets him a little more than he bargined for. [1,761 words]
A Season For Figs by Geraldine Winters A short story. [3,255 words]
A Hike by Jennifer Winter A short story. [875 words]
A Friend by Peter Izdebski I was like clay, so soft and yellow. I listened and followed because I didn't know that I could talk ... [917 words]

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By the full of the moon,
and the cloak of the night.
There are some things that are better
Kept in the light.
[1,372 words]
Gypsey Teague
-Gypsey was born and raised in the country she knows best, New Hampshire. The nights are dark, cold, and the dead don't always stay dead. This is the world of her fiction, but is it always?
[November 2003]
[email protected]
Did You Hear The One About The Three Icelandic Bishops (Short Stories) When you invite a guest into your home, be prepared for what you get. [493 words] [Horror]
Sacrifice (Novels) If you have children this will keep you from letting them swim alone. [708 words] [Horror]
Things To Do Before I Die (Short Stories) Everyone makes lists. Some mean more than others. [1,045 words] [Mystery]
Whittlin' (Short Stories) Even the dead need company from time to time. Daryl learned the hard way that friends are often for more than life. [959 words] [Horror]
Gypsey Teague



            He parked the truck a little after four.  A small Toyota pickup, with a broken mirror on the driver’s side, the yellow truck looked out of place among the clean, newer models behind the mall.  Dressed in torn jeans and an old army jacket left over from his brother’s short stint in Desert Storm the boy, no more than twenty or twenty one, sauntered, if anyone still uses that word, into the rear entrance by the nail techs, their incessant chatter of foreign languages a din to his ears, and sniffed the air.

            There was fear.  Not just the fear of being alone late at night, or the fear of dying without ever knowing true love, but a deeper fear of rejection, disapproval, and failed decisions.  The air was ripe with it, emanating from the children with their parents, the teenagers in their packs like wolves looking for a lost sheep, and the aged, with wrinkled faces, spotted hands, and thick glasses.  But here was also blood.

            He couldn’t identify where he smelled it, but the blood was in the air.  It was all over the mall.  Quickly he walked through the wide confines past the GNC, where two bulk bunnies were discussing the best steroid alternative, past the Abercrombie & Fitch, filled with emaciated model wannabes in designer jeans and opaque white tank tops, and the food stands selling recycled death, packaged as chicken, steak, pizza, and fish. As he walked past the open metal doors of the Hot Topic, the music inside making the hair on the back of his hands stand at attention with disapproval, he smelled the blood again.  This was different blood.

            Sitting briefly by the kiosk that sold dark glasses and cell phone covers of all the major and minor sports teams, he saw the object of his scent.  She was standing in the back, waiting on a customer.  To anyone else she would be just another pseudo Goth, those lost generation children who all kept their skin so pale, their hair so black, their makeup so thick, and their ideas so dark, so they could be different, while being just like the rest of the sub-culture.  From the back she looked to be about sixteen, her hair hanging limply to her shoulders; her jeans tightly wrapped around a yet juvenile frame.  She was young, so very young, but the blood was rich from her and he could smell it.

            Too soon he could feel the pull of the moon on his skin.  Looking up through the skylight he watched the last few rays of day fade into twilight.  He knew he had to leave soon or be discovered and he fled, not quickly as to be noticed, but languidly, enjoying the ripples of power beginning to rise from his loins, his arms, and his legs.  He had only been in this form a few times, having been bitten in late summer, when the smell of flowers and cut grass floated on the breezes of evening.  It had been his brother who infected him, having been attacked in Iraq, five years before.  The boy was lucky to still be alive from the bite.  It had been the first time his brother had let a victim live, only drawing back at the last minute after the muted cries of the youth stirred something almost primordial in the older man.

            She came out of the mall at closing.  There weren’t many that used the back exit and he was glad of that.  This would be his first kill and he wanted it to be perfect.  He could feel the stiffness of his body longing for her.  He would play with her before concluding.  In the end the outcome would be inevitable, but there was no reason to rush it. After his brother had regained his mortal sanity they had talked about rushing things.  About being so caught up in the hunt and the moment that they lost all sense of proportion.  He would do this right, not just rip and tear like he had read in the pulp fictions and had seen on Buffy, but rend with dedication and purpose.

            In the shadows he now watched the others pass by. They never saw him, crouched under the apple trees by the nail salon, his dark fur and glowing red eyes kept out of the lights from the passing cars and trucks as the others exited the lot.  He could smell their longing for death.  There was blood there also, but it was tainted blood:  the blood of drugs and alcohol and sex.  It was death’s blood that flows monthly and that must be purged to allow new, cleaner blood to flow.  It was not HER blood.

            When he was certain she was alone he began to hunt.  Paralleling her movements, down one row of cars as she moved down another he smelled her without seeing her.  He knew she was the one to take.  She would be the perfect one, so young, so clean, so virginal in her black clothing, her black hair and nails, and her black eyes.  It was the antithesis of the Madonna, the mirror image of the pure, she would appear in another life, his life, her death.

            The moon was at its’ brightest when he made his move.  She paused with her key in the door as he moved with the wind to his face, keeping his scent from his prey, as his kind had done for thousands of years.  There was a tingle in his fur when he reached out swiftly to grasp the throat of the young girl, still unaware of his presence but there was also something amiss.

            Suddenly there was pain.  Inches from her face, his fangs bared, his claws exposed, his fur burned.  Something shiny in the moonlight, not seen before.  A pentagram on a chain around her neck.  His mind reeled as the skin singed under the silver rope.  She was now looking at him, smiling.  Her hand on his muzzle, the rings on her fingers searing his flesh: the same fingers that quickly attaching the collar of that hated metal.  It was too late for him to understand his danger, or to take his last chance for escape.  He was trapped, and in that trap, his fate was sealed.  As if in a final plea for release he howled once at the moon but there was no one to hear him.  That was the rule set forth centuries before when game was less plentiful:  one creature, one city.

            When the security guard stopped a few minutes later the girl already had the creature chained into the back of her car.

            “Everything all right, miss?”  He asked from his golf cart, the yellow blinking light illuminating the dark parking lot.

            “Yes, sir.”  The young girl said.  “Just walking my dog.”


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© 2003 Gypsey Teague
January 2004

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