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Reviews, Articles, and Special Features:

Book Review: The Worm and His Kings

Book Review: The Worm and His Kings

I’ll be the first person to admit that I’m not a huge consumer of media that’d fall within the ‘cosmic horror’ sphere; that isn’t to say that I don’t like the subgenre, but my exposure to it has been pretty limited. I actually wasn’t even really sure what cosmic horror was, beyond knowing that H.P. Lovecraft supposedly pioneered the topic. After doing some investigating, the general idea seems to be that there’s a lot of unknown stuff out there that could potentially be pretty terrifying for us – big yikes, basically!

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“Overdone Meat,” a Short Story, by Christina Rosso
Short Story, Women In Horror Month Guest User Short Story, Women In Horror Month Guest User

“Overdone Meat,” a Short Story, by Christina Rosso

The hardest part is getting the facial expressions right. The slight slant of frown lines on the forehead, the curve of a smile forming. Worry in the eyes. The eyes are how you know whether or not it worked.

He comes to the gallery late, after hours. He has been my companion the last three months. I don’t like the term boyfriend, yet he insists on calling me his girlfriend. His name is Robbie. I have a three-inch tall oak wingback chair in my hand and am ticking light brush strokes on the tiny legs to give them a more weathered look when he barges in.

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“House of Widows,” a Short Story, by S.H. Cooper
Women In Horror Month, Short Story Guest User Women In Horror Month, Short Story Guest User

“House of Widows,” a Short Story, by S.H. Cooper

It was small, the movement that caught his eye.

His 7-speed squealed to a halt as he braked at the foot of the driveway. Somehow he’d never noticed this house before. Odd, considering he’d biked past it every day since his family had moved into the neighborhood a couple weeks before. He wasn’t sure how he could’ve missed it. It stood out, a giant dollhouse with its shingled facade and white wraparound porch encircled by a low stone wall. His gaze returned to the arched third-story window, staring like a third eye down from the house's forehead.

The lacy curtain twitched again.

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