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1 Contents Fiction 5 Cut — Simon Lee-Price 12 Just a Nightmare — Dagny Thomas 14 Sundowning — Andrew Robertson 19 Meat Beach — Guy Cheston 23 Gotta Catch ‘Em All — G. H. Finn 25 Fire! — Anders M. Svenning 29 What She Needs — Livingston Edwards 33 The Tomb Wife — Scarlett R. Algee 38 Tea — Reuben Wade 42 The Cowboy Rides Away — Maynard Blackoak 46 Mr. Leslie — Dimitar Fabijanic 49 Scythe — Alex Woolf 55 The Bone Lord — DJ Tyrer 58 Powerless — Kevin Holton 61 Synergy — Dave Dormer 67 A Stolen Heart — R. J. Meldrum 70 The Burden — J. C. Michael 72 Reaper — Nicholas Paschall 77 The Box — Mark Steinwachs 80 Thirty-Two — Diane Arrelle 82 The Woman Who Loved a Tree — Louise M. Hart 109 West and Maple — Jacob Mielke 114 Grow — Rivka Jacobs 117 Ghosts — SJ Garman 120 The Penny Jar — Donna Cuttress 125 Speed — Mark Cassell 128 Disposable — MK Lee 130 Last Halloween — Robert J. Stava 135 The Manipulator — Zack Kullis 138 The Men’s Room — John Grover 143 The Last Tango — Robert A. Read 148 Memento Mori — Joseph A. Pinto 152 The Croaking Raven — Michael Wombat 154 It’s Meant to Be — Michael Mulcahy 159 Beauty — Sonya Herbach 162 Gallows Hill — R. J. Meldrum 166 Escape Velocity — Steven Wynne 168 Sylvia — JP Lorence 173 This Day — Aspen deLainey 177 Mr. Mean — Patrick Winters 179 Deathly Cold — Nicky P Gardiner 2 Poetry 88 Passing — Carl Wade Thompson 88 The Waking Game — Carl Wade Thompson 89 The Guiding Thread — Carl Wade Thompson 90 All That Remains — Carl Wade Thompson 91 Rocking Chair — Carl Wade Thompson 93 Death is Coming Now — Austin Muratori 93 Fear Within — Austin Muratori 95 Forest Shadow — DJ Tyrer 95 Zed — DJ Tyrer 95 Reaperman — DJ Tyrer 96 Dead Man Walking — DJ Tyrer 96 Dead of Winter — DJ Tyrer 98 Scotty Awakens — Stuart Conover 99 The Reapers Parade — Lance Oliver Keeble 100 23 — Lance Oliver Keeble 101 The Night I Greet — Timothy A. Wiseman 101 The Wolf and the Hood — Timothy A. Wiseman 102 The Death — Einsam Vuk 102 One Last Farewell — Einsam Vuk 103 Darkness Is My Name… — Einsam Vuk Features 105 An Interview with Illustrator Joshua James 184 An Interview with Author Jessica B. Bell 186 An Excerpt from H(A)UNTED found in Viscera Illustrations by Joshua James 4 The Angel of Death 24 London Horror 37 Exhumed 87 Reminiscing 108 Omen 127 The New Apprentice 151 Aliens vs. Zombies 189 Credits 3 4 Cut | Simon Lee-Price Her daughter’s new boyfriend was a foreigner and she didn’t like the sound of him, especially his name, Johannes, which she thought was too long and fancy for a decent man. “Really, Mum, you’re a complete xenophobe. But if it bothers you that much just call him John.” “Your trouble is you always rush into relationships.” “And you always see the worst in people.” “I just don’t want you getting hurt again.” “Don’t worry. I won’t. Not after Ted.” “I’ve told you never to say that name in my house.” “Why not, Mum?” She grinned cheekily. “Ted is a nice short English name. Just the kind you like.” When her daughter revealed what John or Johannes did for a living, she warmed to him a little. “What? He’s a doctor?” “Yes, Mum, a doctor.” “Are you sure?” “Of course I’m bloody sure! He wears green scrubs with his name badge pinned on the chest and all the nurses call him Doctor.” “Why didn’t you tell me right away he was a doctor?” “Because I knew exactly how you’d react.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “The way you’d change your tune about him once you found out he earns good money. You’re not only a xenophobe, you’re a snob as well.” *** She invited her daughter and Johannes for dinner. He arrived with a bouquet of flowers, chocolates and two bottles of expensive French wine. She tried hard to pronounce his name, but kept forgetting to make the J sound like a Y. “Call me John,” he said, flashing a set of gleaming white teeth, “or just Jack.” He praised her cooking and entertained them with stories. His sense of humor was very British and he spoke with such a faint trace of accent she almost forgot he was foreign. Yet something about him still troubled her. Maybe it was the fact he was ten years older than her daughter? Maybe it was his shiny bronze tan and the way he kept the top of his shirt unbuttoned? Perhaps he was just too charming. Too smoothly shaven. What if he’s one of these playboys, she asked herself, and using my daughter for a fling? Yes, a Jack the lad! *** When she was next with her daughter she asked about his family. “So, has he introduced you to them?” “Not yet.” 5 “Hmm.” “Most of them live abroad.” “What do his parents do?” “They own some land in Germany. I think he’s descended from aristocrats.” “What about his friends? Have you met any of them? And what does he do when he’s not at work?” “Is this the inquisition or something? I thought you liked him now? You seemed to get on well together.” “I’m just interested. That’s all. He must have some hobbies or people he knows. He can’t always be busy at the hospital.” “I know he likes to paint when he gets time.” “He”s an artist as well?” “I suppose he is. I’ve seen some of his pictures. They’re quite good actually. But not really my cup of tea. The style’s a bit drab and depressing—but don’t you dare tell him I said that.” *** “Schnitzler,” she repeated with difficulty, watching him sharpening the carving knife over the kitchen sink. “Did I pronounce it right?” “Not bad at all.” He inspected the blade in the light of the window. “But I bet you can’t guess what it means?” She grinned. Maybe she could. “Has it got something to do with food—that Vienna pork chop thing covered in bread crumbs?” “You mean a Wiener Schnitzel. But they don’t use pork chops for those.” He ran a fingertip lightly along the edge of the blade. “They use pork cutlets. However, you’re halfway right. The surname Schnitzler actually translates as cutter. My ancestors were craftsmen who worked with wood. They carved everything from the elaborate scrolling you can see in baroque churches to those gigantic ship figureheads.” She learned many other interesting facts about him during that surprise visit, when he’d stayed half the day and helped her with all kinds of odd jobs around the house. So why did she still mistrust him? “I think he’s been married before,” she said to her daughter. “And he’s keeping it a secret from you. He probably has children back in Germany. Have you ever considered he may still be married? That he might be committing adultery with you?” “Mother.” “I’m just saying.” “And he always says such nice things about you.” “Men are men and always will be. You need to get wise to their ways.” “You can talk.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Dad wasn’t exactly Mr Perfect, now, was he?” *** 6 She stopped getting visits from her daughter and although they spoke weekly on the phone she began to feel lonely and guilty. Was she was just an old xenophobe after all? If only I could speak to some of his colleagues, she thought, or just see this man at work in the hospital, maybe then I could accept him. The next few times she was out shopping, she made a detour past the front of the hospital, walking slowly and glancing across at the entranceway, as if she might suddenly see him there. Then one afternoon, on impulse, she went inside and stood before the reception counter. Hot with embarrassment, she said she had an appointment to see Doctor Schnitzler but had forgotten to bring the letter with her. The receptionist searched the computer, trying various spellings, but could not find a Doctor Schnitzler. “That’s not to say he doesn’t work here,” she said. “It just means his name is not on our appointments system. Are you sure you’ve remembered the name correctly?” “Yes, it‘s Schnitzler, Johannes Schnitzler.” “My supervisor will be back in five minutes. She might be able to help. You can take a seat over there.” All the while she waited, she was tempted to creep away and catch the bus home. She felt deeply ashamed of her own behavior. But there was something uncanny about this Johannes man and his name not being on the system gave her yet another reason to mistrust him. The receptionist waved for her to return to the counter and passed her on to her supervisor. “This Doctor Schnitzler,” the supervisor said guardedly, “is his name Jack by any chance?” “Why? Have you found him?” “I’m not sure. Maybe.” “How can you say you’re not sure? Either he works here or he doesn’t work here.” “What is this man to you anyway? I know you don’t really have a medical appointment with him.” She decided to make a full confession and told the woman about her daughter’s relationship. The supervisor leaned closer across the desk and spoke in a lowered voice. “You must keep what I’m going to tell you confidential. If it gets passed around it could undermine people’s confidence in this hospital.” She gave her word.