by Bre Stephens
The Dark Sire and Second Chances Lit teamed up to bring the writing community a fun-filled writing contest that held horror close to the chest. The theme was “second chances” in all its interpretations. There were many entries for this swag contest, but only three writers could win.
Among my personal favorites, Juno Dufour’s O, Fortunato struck a gothic cord with a truly unique interpretation of the “second chances” theme; Allison Miehl’s Let Sleeping Dogs Lie pitched an emotional curveball; Marie Kelly’s Bury Me in My Dreams hit a home run in psychological horror and mental health awareness; Connor Pope’s Hand in Hand, Dear Sister conjured chills in all the right places through amazing word choice and description; Matthew Hisbent’s Hearts of Darkness tore into the flesh – literally – to escape with a second chance; and Liam Hogan’s Sirens had a twist not expected.
Though all the stories had a fresh take on the theme and were masterfully written, only three authors could rise to the top. And without further ado, I’d like to congratulate the WINNERS of the Dark Chances Contest:
Mario Aliberto III
The water rushed into her mouth, cold, filling her up. Above, sunshine broke upon the ocean’s surface. The man splashed through, blotting out the light. Handsome, strong, swimming towards her. Reaching.
She fell deeper, but in the ocean, it was not called falling. Diving, yes, the man would call it that. But to lure a man it had to look like falling.
His eyes saying, I will save you.
A strong swimmer. When he grabbed her wrist, she grabbed his back. Then she released the breath she was holding, air bubbling up from her neck gills, before falling—diving—deeper.
Bio: Mario Aliberto III lives in Tampa Bay with his wife and daughters, and yet the dog still runs the house. Twitter: @marioaliberto3.
Hang Him High
It has rained for days, drops falling on me from the sky, from branches heavy with rot, from his bloated fingertips. My clothes are as ragged as the hope that led me to replace his noose with a chain. Thunder rumbles; prayers rise.
I kiss his bare ankle. All I need is one strike. The wind howls in fury at my obstinance.
The crack rends the night—the tree—his limb sunders, the dead of tree and dead of man falling at my feet.
Neither of us breathes.
“Wake up,” I whisper.
His hand convulses, cold and pale and alive, alive, alive—
Bio: When Jenni Meade isn’t writing, she’s either running a construction company, making pork dumplings, or chasing a feral child. When Jenni Meade is writing, she is the feral child. She can be found on Twitter (@jmeadeski) or online at jennimeade.com.
Had I a tongue, I might beg for mercy. But I know my fate; there would be no second chance. My room stinks of blood and sweat, and had I eyes to see, the dancing candlelight would show the shadowy form of my keeper. He who scrubs the rack clean as I fumble in the darkness. My waist chained tight, forcing me to stand, and pain stabbing with every shallow breath. I paw with broken fingers, feeling the cold metal walls of my upright coffin. Eagerly, he approaches and the door before me slams shut. I succumb to the maiden.
Bio: James writes stories which are a little bizarre, often dark, and somewhat twisted. He lives in England with his wife and two daughters and their many pets. Follow him on Twiiter: @JimHank13.
CONGRATULATIONS to these amazing writers! I enjoyed your work tremendously. Aliberto grabbed and pulled me under the water; Meade left me wanting more, more more; and Hancock delivered a powerful THUD! that echoed in my mind when the chamber closed. Powerful imagery, great description, and a ride filled with adrenaline – that is what these authors delivered. And I was here for it all!
Are you ready to submit to THE DARK SIRE? We’re always looking for short stories, poetry, art, and now screenplays in the subgenres of gothic, horror, fantasy, and psychological realism. To submit, visit: darksiremag.com.