Advertisement
We have original short fiction from Ian Muneshwar (“Beak”) and R. Diego Martinez (“Notes from the Graft Failure”). Our Horror Lab originals include a poem (“Exorcism”) from Cassandra Khaw and a flash (“Blood of the Idugan”) from Lilia Zhang. We also have the latest installment of our column on horror, “The H Word,” plus author spotlights with our authors. We also have a “Plumbing the Depths” essay exploring horror novels about witches—written by Stephanie Wytovitch.
Cover art by Zastolskiy Victor / Shutterstock
Welcome to Issue #152 of Nightmare Magazine! And if you’re a subscriber reading this on release day, then happy May Day—a day where many cultures in the Northern Hemisphere celebrate the high point of spring, a day of fertility and growth.
The bedbug bite is unlike any insect bite I’ve experienced before. You’re covered in these welts, and the cumulative effect of their itching is the inability to concentrate on anything other than that sensation. If horror is about extremity, then this story is about extremity of sensation.
What do the wicked stepmother and the innocent princess have in common? In this retelling, a lot more than you might think. I love a good fairy tale retelling, especially those that subvert the narrative in unexpected ways, and it’s high time for the jealous villainess archetype to be rewritten.
Growing up in a small town in southern West Virginia, I’d always heard that a man wasn’t supposed to show his feelings. I mean, think about it, the Mountain State in those days was where generations of males put on hard hats, work boots, and brave faces before heading into the bowels of the earth to mine coal.
I think this is a story about thinking too much. Stop thinking and you become less human, more like an animal; that involves scars, and predators, and living outdoors, and for certain animals it sometimes involves eating garbage.
A Meditation on the Witch The witch is a shapeshifter, a marvelous creature who evolves with the times. Those who fear her have burned her at the stake, hung her body from the gallows, and drowned her in the sea—none of which were able to properly kill her because the witch is more than a […]
In many ways, this poem is about an excruciatingly difficult childhood, but it is also about my found family, about the people who have helped me realize that the past is something you can leave behind, that you can exorcise, put away because there are better things to do than stay haunted by the dark.
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement