Highway 54

Brown teddy bear with standard stitching and right eye removed. Soaked from the rain on highway 54, it was just a mere few miles away from where my world stopped. Everything from that day except for the smells were a distant memory. The smells…the smell of the air thickening as it happened, the smell of the rain kissed with humidity, and the smell of blood.

The scent alone wouldn’t relent as it became a constant and even permanent reminder of the events that happened on that rainy day. As I clutch the teddy bear in my arms I try to forget but the memories were everywhere, including the tiny shards of glass hidden on the road sprinkled with the blood of my son. But I had no choice. It was the only way I could keep my marriage.

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Struggling authors, please read.

Author Kyle Perkins

By Kyle Perkins.

So lately I have heard from a few people that they feel like they should just give up on writing because for whatever reason, they are feeling like it just isn’t worth it anymore. Whether they feel like they aren’t getting enough attention, don’t have enough fans, or whatever the case may be, they are wrong, and here’s why.

Writers and authors have a gift, and because we have that gift, we have an obligation, a responsibility to use it. We may “just” arrange words in such a fashion that people enjoy reading them, but a heart surgeon “just” transplants hearts, and astronauts “just” go to space. We need to stop treating writing like it is simply a hobby that “anyone” can do, because that’s not the case. We “just” take people to places they can’t go on their own, and give them a form of escapism…

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Haunted

He couldn’t see them but he could feel them. He could feel their presence surrounding him as he laid in his hospital bed. The uncomfortable sound of silence soon followed, immediately feeling a sense of dread as he wondered why they were there.

But instead of opening his eyes to the usual nurses, family and IV drip, feeling a sense of comfort and safety; this time when he opened his eyes there was an off putting feeling. A sense of dread, a sense of fear, a sense that he was now on borrowed time as he heard the clock above his head tick louder than before while in the company of these two new nurses. But before he could gather his thoughts and ask, he was quickly interrupted. “Why did you let us die?” A loud voice from the foot of his bed shouted, rattling his eardrums, leaving a slight ring. “Wha…” He was still disoriented as he replied, wondering if the chemotherapy drugs that he was given were somehow stronger than before. “You heard her. Why? It’s been thirty long years Stephen. All this time you had opportunities you could’ve pursued and even excelled at, but you decided to cast us aside for accounting and cigarettes. Now you’re here dying, not just physically but spiritually. You could’ve done so much more for yourself…” Another voice bellowed, this time from the right side of the bed.

Six months ago, Stephen and his family had gotten the news that there wasn’t much else the doctors could for his terminal lung cancer that was worsening by the day so he was forced to check in a hospice for his final days. He wasn’t really that surprised about the news after all, he had spent the past 30 years chain smoking, so it was only a matter of time before the cigarettes would catch up to him. Stephen smirked at their remarks. He had no idea who these women were, who just appeared out of nowhere telling him who he is and how he lived his life. “Ladies no disrespect, but I’ve lived my life to the fullest. Sure I was ok at certain things like drawing but it was never a career for me, just a silly dream and nothing more. Trust me, I was content at my job as an accountant, it was what I wanted to do for my family.” Stephen replied confidently

“Ok. But was it what you wanted to do for yourself? Pursuing something that you were good at and could’ve improved on were silly dreams to you? Admit it, it wasn’t a priority to you. You were scared to make it one. Tell me Stephen. Is this what you really wanted?” “Once again yes it is. Of course except for the cancer that this is what I want for my life.” He sounded uneasy responding the second time, secretly hoping that they wouldn’t notice. “Are you sure? Because it’s easy to just work, pay bills, have a family, and then just die. It sounds a lot like your life right now Stephen.” The other nurse responded. The nurse who was standing at the foot of the bed walked over to his left side, and if Stephen didn’t know better he swore that her eyes were seeing through his soul. “This is who we are. We are the ambitions, dreams, and goals that you had left behind. For thirty years we stood in the background while you lived your life smoking and crunching numbers, it’s such a pity that we must come with you. Look at the life that you’ve never lived, all because you listened to the lies you told yourself about being a failure if you took any type of risk.”

It was then for the very first time in his life that he started to cry, not for anyone but for himself. He realized that they were right as much as he didn’t want to admit it, everything that he did in life was safe, didn’t bother to take a risk in anything and stayed behind his desk. Behind his desk he was lying to himself, thinking that accounting and his family was all he needed to live a fulfilling life but in reality, he was just existing. Once he saw the pale, lifeless nurse’s hand come towards him, his breathing suddenly grew shorter, feeling his lungs grasp for every bit of air. The closer her hand went near him, the weaker he became, as if she was draining the life out of him. “It’s time Stephen. You chose a life of ordinary based on safety and fear rather than a life of extraordinary based on risk and chance,” She said with a cold stare and tone. “There’s no turning back now and as a result we must die with you forever leaving your obituary to only say that you were a loving husband, father, and an accountant.” Stephen tried to scream for help, he wasn’t ready to leave but didn’t have enough air to breathe, leaving his cries to fall on empty walls and deaf ears. He prayed that this was all a part of a horrific nightmare but it wasn’t. His room grew dark, and as the clock above his head suddenly stop ticking, so did his heart. Soon after, he walked out of the room with the nurses hand in hand, leaving behind a sick, gaunt body followed by a pension and a will, all the while taking his true potential to the grave.

Press Release Drops for Debut Novel, Outbreak: The Hunger

Horror Movies, Horror News, Horror Reviews | AnythingHorror.com

Okay, I’m gonna be completely honest with you all. The press release I’m posting in this article for the debut novel, OUTBREAK: THE HUNGER, is my press release for my debut novel. I know, I know … shameless self-promotion!! But I’m really proud of this novel and think it’s something horror fans everywhere will enjoy. Plus, I’m almost finished writing the sequel for it and it’s turning out to be a pretty kickass, new take on the zombie sub-genre (if I don’t say so myself). Enough nonsense. Here’s the press release:

Outbreak-the-Hunger-ebook-coverOutbreak: The Hunger: Trend-Bucking Zombie Trilogy Releases Pack of “Wild” Animals…with Deadly Results. Hailed “A Frightening Un-Dead Story” by Critics.

Masterfully crafted by Scott Shoyer, ‘The Hunger,’ the powerful first volume in the ‘Outbreak’ trilogy, breaks the stagnant mold of zombie fiction to embroil readers in an innocent trip to a zoo that could literally change humanity for…

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Phoenix

return to dune towers

Here’s my new story Phoenix. Photo courtesy of Willow Raven.

Out of everyone, she survived. Everything that was thrown at her she exceeded beyond expectation. With her mother’s green dress draped over her like a shield, she gazed upon the place that had once ridiculed her, banished her and almost killed her. Although her legs was heavy due to the relentless torture that she endured, she finally escaped the torture that plagued her for several months that left her speechless upon her return as a new person who wasn’t driven on fear but anger. The blood, sweat and tears were cleverly hidden along with her true identity; the only sounds that accompained the police helicopters was the rapid beating of her bitter, cold, heavy heart as her silence remained deafening. Her dress matching green eyes flickered with vengeance as she stood, watched and waited for her chance to once again rise from the ashes and take back what was hers.