By Mav Skye
Psychopathy. Scientists have been stumped and mystified about this condition for decades. The rules of the psychopath game are constantly changing, making it easier than ever for the predator to prey on the naïve. And to make matters worse, Hollywood’s fascination with sensational psychos and its lack of interest in facts has led to a plethora of misconceptions on the subject.
*Read by Basil Ripley* Continue reading Listen by Cal Lumney
Blondie smashed Roxy with a pumpkin, a plump, orange, glorious pumpkin as round and vivacious as the moon was full. She smashed Roxy with the pumpkin’s thick stem straight through one of her blue eyes, and then through the other, over and over and over, until blood streamed and steamed into the frosty grass.
“Hooray!” cried Blondie, swiping her blond hair back. She punched her small fists at the moon. Continue reading Smashing Roxy by Mav Skye
The day before yesterday, I choked Rebecca Hensley to death. Her hand-scan monitor was alerting like crazy, which really adds to the thrill, but just before it sent out the imminent death alarm I put a black market cleaver through her forearm. The alarm sounds and ME-Drones launch from rooftops and that is the moment when the Continue reading These Two Hands by Marc E. Fitch
By Jason Michel
Julia Tourianski is a film maker, a writer, a self-confessed anarchist and one of a loose group of young and, of course, tech-savvy rebels
that Paul Rosenberg named “The Bitcoin Kids“. They do not give two shits about your, my, nor any government’s, approval in order to reshape, what they see as the corrupt culture and society inherited from older generations with the new technological culture that they were born into. She kindly agreed to be interviewed.
Continue reading Filling Space : An interview with Julia Tourianski
And I hear this Aaahhmmmmmm. Aaahhmmmmmm. That’s what woke me up in the end, I think. Now I tell you that was a fucking weird afternoon. In the early hours of that morning Satellite had Continue reading We Are Like the Stars by U.V. Ray
Ginger Ronny had told Burkey about the murder towards the bitter end of one of their occasional raucous Tuesday night drinking sessions, as the dawn had desperately begun to grasp for life and Continue reading Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One by Paul D. Brazill
“The thing about fatherhood, Robbie,” says John, leaning over me, breathing the supermarket sushi he’s just polished off into my fucking fizzog and up my nostrils, “is that it changes yer.”
The walk to Shepherd’s Bush station can put a skip in your step when the sun paints rays across the street. It can make even those tower blocks, standing over the station like hard men glaring at the commuters, look inviting. However, it helps to look up from the pavement. The only problem with that is possible eye contact with strangers. I’ve forgotten how to act around them. And not just Continue reading Scrag by Jason Beech
Eddie peeled an arm from a bar top sticky with spilt liquor and tipped a spent glass in the barman’s direction, the universal gesture for another drink. Eddie wasn’t hard to spot even in a crowded room, that the bar was empty made it even easier. The barman nodded and hooked up a fresh glass.
Continue reading Pick up by Aidan Thorn
PULP METAL MAGAZINE 