by A. F. Stewart
Evil is back, with a greater appetite for death.
They lurk forever in the shadows, smile at you in the morning, and haunt your dreams at night. You can’t hide, you can’t run, and there’s no escape. You can only scream when they come for you.
Killers and Demons II: They Return is a collection of thirteen tales, blending short stories and flash fiction, tales where the blood lingers on your tongue or spurts quickly from the swift cut.
The Villainous Roster:
Wade, every parent’s nightmare.
Hannah and Mr. Greeley. Who is the victim and who is the villain?
Simon and Zoe, a married couple who are dying to be single again.
Norman and his "cookie" of a wife, Mabel.
Millicent and Jane, a delightful duo you shouldn't invite to your Regency tea party.
Amanda, who literally has a skeleton in her closet.
Balthazar, the demon bounty hunter on the hunt once more.
Sarah, a young woman going through some changes and craving new tastes.
Emmeline, hanged as a witch, now back from the dead for revenge.
Gabrielle, a woman haunted by shadows.
The Dollmaker, she showers death, and an umbrella won’t help.
Nightmare Demons, bent on driving a town insane.
And then there’s Alice, a little girl locked in the basement by her Daddy…
Together they form a spine-chilling cadre of predators.
And here's a little excerpt from the story Runner:
The thief smiled as he ducked in the back alley off a London street. He opened his hand and stared at the gold watch and fob he nicked.
“You’ll be worth some money. Enough to buy my mates a few beers.”
He shoved the watch into his pocket and glanced out into the lane. As the gas light cast shadows over the cobblestones, he saw no sign of the bobbies. Still, he decided to wait a few more minutes, leaning back against the brick of the alley wall. He shifted uncomfortably and wiped sweat from his brow. The air had turned warm and muggy.
A tall, lanky gentleman stepped out of the gloom, and a wave of searing heat washed over the thief. He collapsed, wheezing, his lungs burning from the air he breathed. His clothing smouldered and his skin blistered, flesh peeling off his body in crisp, black patches and he smelled the acrid odor of his own roasting flesh. The thief screamed before his vocal chords cooked as his body slowly sizzled.
The gentleman smiled as he watched the thief’s pain. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Balthazar, one of Hell’s demons. I believe you stole my watch.”
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