From horror masterminds Bentley Little, Ramsey Campbell, Graham Masterton, Joe R. Lansdale, Elizabeth Massie, Piers Anthony, Melanie Tem, Cheryl Kaye Tardif, Scott Nicholson, Conrad Williams, Simon Clark and a host of other respected authors, poets and artists comes WHAT FEARS BECOME, a terrifying collection of bone-chilling, nail-biting horror that is sure to keep you awake until all hours of the night.
This anthology brings together some of the best works from The Horror Zine, an online magazine dedicated to giving you chills and thrills. Edited by Jeani Rector, each story, poem and art work within showcases an international talent that will give you shivers.
You boo when there is a supoprtive cheer
you smile and nod nicely to my face
you pleasantly disagree with things dear
you bet against me and then rig the race
you grin but when i’m not looking it’s a sneer.
You laugh when i stumble with persistance
you frown when i am happy and succeed
you clap for long uncomfortable silence
you give bad advise when there is no need
I can’t stand the ‘Your Friend’ experience.
Another summer gone without notice
another fall with a thing unanticipated
another spring with a floating Lotus
another winter of dreams dissipated.
An inner season is upon us at all times
with each other the long saga will continue
we’re all guilty of crying emotional crimes
spacial distortions for all of us to misconstrue.
We’re floating in the middle of a long quantum string
a super massive black hole awaits arrivals to stay
from here to there our Aetherspheres will be blending
hell is wanting more, and heaven happens every day.
Social fabrication is denial
commitment to what is reality
vision creates a cognitive fusion
knowledge comes from dualistic da da
the crooked compass shows us the right way
open to what is next and not their next
blur is an example of time travel
three components make relativity
declaration of what is and isn’t
clarity eliminates neg bias.
Thinking out loud in silence with you now
if left alone down the vortex i go
open minded and skeptical we are
do everything alone on the steep edge
looking is a form of quantum changing
aetherspheric synergy increases
when you measure something real it changes
washable experience left to dry
silver cords wrap completely imperfect
standard absudum deviation is Zen.
He’s always watching from the hill
he’s always out there on a dare
making sure i always softly fell
making sure i never much care
paving my private path to hell.
The walking dead can’t be tortured enough
taken in by a handshake and a grin
complements and accolades are never enough
nothing will ever be the same again
there will never be the end of ever enough.
The hypocritical oasis paves the path very fast
the time has come once again to wear the hood
hot is not what’s on the plate or will ever last
the clock of my time-line is cracked for good
nothing can be done to alter the faded past.
Nothing is as it seems and all lost in pseudo rhyme
nothing is as it was or as there will never be affection
one bad deed deserves one of equal and opposite polarity
life is stranger than any conceived vivid-self deception
digging my own grave one self deception at a time.
Build a plank made of pop cycle sticks and bubble gum
an invited wrath and welcomed long long away after-math
being repeatedly stabbed in the back but not nearly deep enough
the aethersphere is always waiting and full of friendly staff
although myself shines on the outside it’s full of dark stuff.
There is no loathing when it’s backed by a deserved hate
doing the left thing of a least resistant slippery path
fear is the driver to avoid the bitter truth blue platter plate
retrograde ex uses and selectively highlighted past
the chance for redemption was lost long ago to fate.
There is only the waiting to see what happens next
seeing and understanding happens in a welcomed find
progress of an empty fate has always been my vexed
dry by day and night to call me a fool would be kind
the reflection in the mirror is a monster self-hexed.
If i just hold on tight while i become the food
life hasn’t been mine in such a stretch to see
bad guys always hide behind a shield of good
my worst enemy and arch nemesis is b.A.d me
life isn’t real and he as me is now understood.
A blind woman with a blinded love
in a blind land wishing for a real man
one who will give her a life from above
the one who will hold her light and stand.
This secret wish is another secret worth telling
unhappiness is lost where hearts have to search
a hidden place from a sad heart that’s high flying
to the place where you can even follow and perch.
In what place will I not become a predator of my self
long-time since never checking in n’ write this once forgot
was surprised and amazed that someone reads from a shelf
join in the jumping because the happy joy mode is on the slot.
More amazed to read invitations that follow when we sneak on in
WWWWWWWOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW what a wonder to behold
four thumbs up 4 an average OOOPS then fall down and hahaha again
there is someone missing me or recently using my media to write and old.
She wants to be fair to both of them by meaning what she says with her ad
here she is ready to write and share her feelings with everyone once again
get set peeps and tighten yo seat belt coz Ninoy’s gonna make u mad
bunches of loves she has to offer us with lotsa fun and pretend sin.
She knows her real problems and she knows her unreal fears
it’s true but hold on tight and don’t you ever want to quit
she knows that her sorrows are lost in her wet tears
it’s true that she doesn’t know how to hard hit.
To tell you the simple truth without the loss
the Universe knows more than anybody
she comes to wipe it away like floss
doing it right and having it ready.
It’s done as soon as it can be
which no end to tomorrows
mourn the comfort too see
burdens and our sorrows.