Horror short story "Ghostflesh" out out now at Five on the Fifth.
Martina lights the candle, and shadows throw themselves up against
the wall; black silhouettes flicker, dance, squirm as if before a firing
squad, and Martina watches these shadows through squinting eyes,
drinking in their performance.
“They'll be strongest on Sunday,” she tells me and snuffs out the candle.
Smoke wreathes her head; she gets up and the wreath goes through her,
dissipates. She flips the switch. Light floods the room, making us both
wince, and I sneak a glance but the shadows have melted back into the
wall.
Read the whole story here.
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