By Brian Keene
“This is my reward. this can be my legacy. this is often my curse…”
BLOOD at the web page is the 1st publication in a sequence gathering all of Keene’s brief fiction. incorporated during this quantity are such critically-acclaimed and fan favourite tales as “Burying Betsy”, “Dust”, “The Resurrection and The Life”, “I Am An Exit”, “Fast Zombies Suck”, “Bunnies In August”, “I Sing a brand new Psalm”, and lots of more.
These are tales of affection and hate. belief and betrayal. Happiness and heartbreak. fact and lies. Innocence and paranoia. Flying and falling. unsatisfied endings and conspiracies of 1. those are tales approximately zombies, ghosts, serial killers, and the main awful monsters of all—ourselves.
BLOOD at the web page – the single factor we need to worry is… every little thing.
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Extra resources for Blood on the Page (The Complete Short Fiction, Volume 1)
John! ” The thing gave chase, its shaved-ham feet slapping the floor behind me. My candle went out. I tossed it aside. I saw a closed door to my right, so I skidded to a stop, threw it open, and flung myself in. Linen shelves smacked me in the face and I fell back out of the closet, dazed. The meat man wrapped its cold links around my neck and lifted me up. It pinned me against the wall. “You disappoint me. All those times we have dueled. In the desert. In the city. ” I was so impressed by this thing’s ability to articulate words using that flapping deer tongue and a frozen turkey that I almost lost track of what it was saying.
My adopted family moved away, I won’t tell you where they are. But get out your pen because you’ll want to write this down. My biological mom? ” “That must have been hard. What was the—” “She was a strung-out, crank-addicted cannibal, dabbled in vampirism and shamanism. My mom, she worshipped some major devil when I was a toddler. Blew her welfare check every month on black candles. Sure, Satan would do her favors now and then, but there’s always a catch with the Devil. ” “No. This, this silliness, it’s what I do when I’m nervous.
I spun around, moved toward the commotion. The dog seemed to eye me carefully, then ran off in the other direction. I looked around— Ah. Giggling now. There was a bundle of girls, away from the stage, huddled with their backs to the band. They were surrounding a black guy with dreadlocks, an overcoat. He had one of those Rastafarian berets on his head, definitely going for a look, wanting the attention. Two of the girls had their hands over their mouths, eyes bulging, screaming for the guy to do it again, do it again.
Blood on the Page (The Complete Short Fiction, Volume 1) by Brian Keene