That lousy bitch! I’ll say it again. That lousy bitch! I fuck one French girl and I end up having my heart and nose broken. Paris was supposed to be romantic. I’ve seen the films. Midnight walks down the Seine, a kiss by the Hotel De Ville. No. This city is a guillotine decapitating love at the neck, and from its weeping wound Continue reading Killer Revolution by Craig Wallwork
Supermarkets Are Where The Money Is by Les Edgerton
We went in like insurance salesmen just like Tommy’d laid it out. Three-piece suits, briefcases, the whole bit. At six-thirty in the morning. Seems Tommy had a friend who was an assistant manager at the Men’s Warehouse who could be talked into letting us have some threads on credit. We’d just have to pay double the price on the stickers. Seemed reasonable usury, the credit place we were in.
Continue reading Supermarkets Are Where The Money Is by Les Edgerton
Temporary Things by U.V. Ray
In the club Ian had some blonde straddling him. On the black leather bench seat that ran the full length of the wall each side of him couples’ were either fucking with theatrical revelry or in various stages of reckless foreplay. As the blonde rode Ian he saw over her shoulder that through the murk of hazy spotlights Erin was navigating a route towards him. Ian eased the blonde off his lap, “Sorry,” he made a gesture at Erin, whose petite frame stood there completely naked apart from her high red stilettos. “Girlfriend problems,” he joked. The blonde Continue reading Temporary Things by U.V. Ray
Future Past by Christopher Grant
Pool of blood, spreading outwards, towards my feet. Warren laying on top of it, his chest eaten up by four buckshot holes. His right arm is twisted and he has a revolver in his hand.
I look down at the pool, which has become an ocean. It’s contracting now, moving back towards Warren.
That Fat Red Bastard – A Dick Dice Problem Interception by Paul ‘Deadeye’ Dick
They say that you always remember your first love. Your first fuck. I remember my first kill…A loveless virgin at 12 years old, I killed the pimp who murdered my mom…
But as I stalk up the stairs, to find that rat fuck mayor who tried to kill me, I can’t help thinking about that first kill I did for my first employer – ‘
Continue reading That Fat Red Bastard – A Dick Dice Problem Interception by Paul ‘Deadeye’ Dick
Ice In The Veins by Richard Godwin
The rosary, if counted a certain way, shows much about the hands and character of the man who counts them. The beads themselves may point the way to deeds that are unspeakable to a man of the cloth. A symbol is a matter of time locked in a moment and open to interpretation. It is a sign of what is to occur in a latitude that Continue reading Ice In The Veins by Richard Godwin
Baby Jebus’ Big Score by Heath Lowrance
Christmas came and went. The weather got warmer and the snow melted off the front lawn, and some folks were even walking around wearing shorts. But still, the Patton family kept their Nativity scene up. January, February, March… and the little manger made of cast-off lumber remained, even though the straw had turned brown and the plastic animals toppled over.
Love Always Comes for You by T. Fox Dunham
“Yo,” I yelled to Vinnie. I didn’t think he could hear me with his head under water, so I pulled him up by his arms back into the boat. His perfect New York oily hair smeared with salt water and all the bloody chum I’d been dumping into the water since we cast off from Port St. Lucy. “I’ll say it again in case you couldn’t hear me, so get the saltwater out of your ears. What was it the Skipper called you back in the old crew?”
General Slaughter’s, Like, Revenge or Something by Melanie Browne
Denise never expected to find herself covered in camouflage holding her breath underwater in swamp water, but that’s exactly where she was. “Like, gross!” she says as she re-emerges from the muck and realizes her contact lenses are covered with swamp mud. She pulls herself out of the water and lies on her back trying to figure out how it is that she got herself in this Continue reading General Slaughter’s, Like, Revenge or Something by Melanie Browne
Lacrimosa by Katy O’Dowd
There was something magical about travelling through summer’s dusk.
She sat in companionable silence with him, enjoying his company. He had already started in on the bottle of gin and she knew that soon he would weep. But for now it was good. She felt none of the usual anticipation she usually had before a kill, and wasn’t sure why.
PULP METAL MAGAZINE 