Killers and Demons II: They Return is a sequel to her short story horror collection, Killers and Demons.
Killers and Demons II: They Return
Killers.
Demons.
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, burned 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.
Suffer a Witch
Emmeline knew she had died. She remembered the abrasion of the rope around her neck, the choking, her body twitching and twisting, the pain. They hung her from the town gallows for being a witch. She never practised witchcraft, but she died for it all the same.
Except she didn’t feel very dead. She felt the grass under her fingers and the cold night breeze on her face. She could see the starlit sky and the fullness of the moon, and smelled the scent of rotting leaves.
Author Bio:
A. F. Stewart was born and raised in Nova Scotia, Canada, and still calls it home. The youngest in a family of seven children, she has always had an overly creative mind and an active imagination. She is fond of good books (especially science fiction/fantasy), action movies, sword collecting, and oil painting as a hobby.
Ms. Stewart is an indie author with several published novellas and story collections in the dark fantasy or horror genres, with a few side trips into poetry and non-fiction. She has a great interest in history and mythology, often working those themes into her books and stories.
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, burned 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.
***
Excerpt: Suffer a Witch
Emmeline knew she had died. She remembered the abrasion of the rope around her neck, the choking, her body twitching and twisting, the pain. They hung her from the town gallows for being a witch. She never practised witchcraft, but she died for it all the same.
Except she didn’t feel very dead. She felt the grass under her fingers and the cold night breeze on her face. She could see the starlit sky and the fullness of the moon, and smelled the scent of rotting leaves.
My neck hurts.
Emmeline placed a hand to her neck and her fingers felt scraped, raw skin and dampness. As she pulled away her hand, it felt sticky and smelled of blood.
They did hang me. Why did I not die?
“You did, my dear. You died quite horribly. I enjoyed watching the whole spectacle.”
A shadow passed over her and then coalesced into the form of a wrinkled old man, short of stature and eyes a coal-black colour. In one hand he carried a gnarled, wooden staff.
“If I died, am I in Hell? You are most certainly not a heavenly angel.”
The old man laughed, a high-pitched cackle that made her shiver. “No, I’m far from an angel, but you’re not in Hell. I brought you back from the realm of the dead.”
“Why?”
“I thought you might wish to harvest revenge against those who wronged you.”
His answer surprised her, but she thought about his words. Swirled them in her mind, tasting them like forbidden wine, before replying.
“Yes. I believe revenge sounds quite lovely.”
“Then get up off the grass and take it, my dear.”
He laughed, a baleful, cavernous chortle, a hideous sound to induce chills, and disappeared, nothing to mark his passing but a wisp of black mist.
“You did, my dear. You died quite horribly. I enjoyed watching the whole spectacle.”
A shadow passed over her and then coalesced into the form of a wrinkled old man, short of stature and eyes a coal-black colour. In one hand he carried a gnarled, wooden staff.
“If I died, am I in Hell? You are most certainly not a heavenly angel.”
The old man laughed, a high-pitched cackle that made her shiver. “No, I’m far from an angel, but you’re not in Hell. I brought you back from the realm of the dead.”
“Why?”
“I thought you might wish to harvest revenge against those who wronged you.”
His answer surprised her, but she thought about his words. Swirled them in her mind, tasting them like forbidden wine, before replying.
“Yes. I believe revenge sounds quite lovely.”
“Then get up off the grass and take it, my dear.”
He laughed, a baleful, cavernous chortle, a hideous sound to induce chills, and disappeared, nothing to mark his passing but a wisp of black mist.
Emmeline clambered to her feet, light-headed and wobbly. She wondered idly if she dreamed, but it didn’t seem to be important. She had a purpose, a goal. She started walking, the strange man all but forgotten. He didn’t matter, the strange circumstances of her resurrection didn’t matter, she simply wanted her vengeance.
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A. F. Stewart was born and raised in Nova Scotia, Canada, and still calls it home. The youngest in a family of seven children, she has always had an overly creative mind and an active imagination. She is fond of good books (especially science fiction/fantasy), action movies, sword collecting, and oil painting as a hobby.
Ms. Stewart is an indie author with several published novellas and story collections in the dark fantasy or horror genres, with a few side trips into poetry and non-fiction. She has a great interest in history and mythology, often working those themes into her books and stories.
2 comments:
Thanks for hosting, Clarissa.
You are very welcome! Good luck on your tour :)
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