Don McLennan, Jr.
Bio
Just another writer.
Stories (2/0)
Shot in the Face by an Old Barn
Billie Stross's brains exploded out the back of her head. Tufts of feathery red hair, as if a summer tanager had been shot at close range, floated gently back to earth. One of the old barn's door lay wide open, a chair on its side with a sawn-off shotgun tied to it. A spring trap.
By Don McLennan, Jr.3 years ago in Fiction
Sandcastle
A storm loomed on the horizon of the sprawling, violent ocean behind the Sandcastle Motel. The gale twisted the rainfall onto its side; the serpentine highway leading to distant, crooked mountains slipped in and out of darkness, as high-mast lights flickered nervously over a lone wanderer. When the light dared to shine on this poor soul, it swallowed the image back up, as if afraid of what the world might see. A legion of cables that hung from beyond clouds had long-since burrowed into this wanderer's skull. The devil that wore its warped face was complimented by an eternal, guttural growl that emitted past blood-dimmed lips. Those eyes clothed in madness brought no sympathy to erstwhile victims. Gripped in one hand, a heart-shaped locket brought to life by the squall. Along overgrown fields of carrion and wilted magnolias, closer to the motel, this horror journeyed.
By Don McLennan, Jr.3 years ago in Fiction