Verity is a lovely young lady who wished to become an archaeologist. She is very interested in history, has a sharp analytical mind and was brought up in an environment which was and still is very supportive of her aspirations. She is generally modest, not the vain, greedy, thrill-seeking type …

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So, that’s how it feels. Not what I expected. More deliciously powerful than I could have imagined. More sickeningly horrifying than I could have dreamed. Ed stared at his outstretched arm. It trembled as the internal war between his mind’s vindication and his stomach’s nauseous churning built to a crescendo. …

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Vice Admiral Heather Johnson floated in a tank of viscous, red fluid, entangled by a thousand gently glowing nerve fibers. She did not see tank, however, or the gray, conduit choked room in which it rested. The tank hijacked Heather’s senses, and to her it seemed she floated in space …

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Tonight is the night The Chittermen come out to play. When the sun goes down and the streetlights start blinking into life; the Shadowlands open doorways into the world. Small pockets of darkness creep across alleyways and under cars, beside large buildings and in parks. At the foot, and in …

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He knew the room was empty. He’d registered the dirty cream walls and scuffed floorboards. There wasn’t even dust. Disgusted, he’d closed the door and waited. Now this petite spitfire of an investigator had turned up and wanted in. Didn’t they trust him? Eloquent in his silence, he opened the …

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A set of azure eyes pierced through the whirling mist, penetrating my skin already stinging from the icy vapor. How fast the world had become a foggy haze. How quickly my surroundings had vanished into eerie nothingness. And yet the eyes still shone through, cold and steely, unaffected by the …

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I could hear him. He was right behind me now; close, so very close. My footsteps echoed loudly through the damp, mildew-ridden abandoned tunnels. My legs ached as I pushed myself to go faster. My breathing was nothing more than ragged gasps that pulled painfully at my chest, my lungs …

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All through the new year our coven of prophets have gathered, consulting their oracles of bone and fowl innards. From the pool of unlikely heroes a winner has emerged. Congratulations to: Jason Fink! Jason’s piece won in a photo finish, scraping across the line with several fine submissions in tow. …

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The Mayan Threat By Nathan Boole   Allen stumbled from the trees toward the research base’s dirt yard, Jill’s limp form slung over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. His thighs burned with fatigue, and his knees threatened to give way before he reached the small bungalow. He forced himself …

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The Great Eventually By Tashiina Buswa That night she dreamt, a side effect of the deep sleep her body wasn’t used to. In the dream Griffin was glowing, fluorescent. She watched him walk in stop-start motion to the river in Tennessee. He tested its surface with a naked foot. Upon …

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Writing on the Walls By Sherry Landow Rain water spits at my words, steadily washing the fresh black ink down the concrete wall. It collects at my boots, gutter froth, word broth, before seeping down the lamp-lit street. Gott ist tot Es lebe die Freiheit Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, …

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Et Responde Mihi By Joey To I was enveloped by the darkness once again. The coolness was almost soothing despite those last words ‘Answer me if you can’ were echoing in me. I glanced at the chronometer but it was flickering. I then checked my oxygen supply. The gauge was …

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Rin Tin Tin Soldiers by Aaron Maltz The famous adage, delivered in a whisper on hands and knees by Union general William Tecumseh Sherman, to the brute that snored like a drunken father in every man’s psyche: “War is hell.” Those words, necessary yet futile, were a plea from a …

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Persistence By Cassie Kosarek I turn a corner to lose It. Lose, cruise, fuse. I hear Its nails shuffle and double against the concrete behind me. Again, the stinking breath bursts against my hairline. Dr. Mann was a wolfman; Mom was a bird; everyone lied. Everyone lies. Even Jesus couldn’t …

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Tattooed and Tattered By Holly Riordan My palms grazed the glass Katy was standing behind before she disappeared—before I betrayed her and let the time-tube suck her into the past. The drifters in the otherwise abandoned shack glared. They must’ve wondered why a teenager would shove his ravishing girlfriend into …

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Al Mafouda (“The Lost”) By Jason Fink   My head hurt, but I would live.  I took another pull on the black lung cigarette; it did not taste the same.  Maybe the Americans were right.  Fucking Americans. I knew that this response was one that had been ingrained in me, …

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  So it seems the criteria for the MATA HARI was more difficult then I thought. Maybe it was the left of field concept of the ‘fake obit’ that threw people, or maybe there’s a bit of overkill with the ROSA, YOUTH, and MATA HARI all going off within a …

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The votes have been cross referenced, double checked, and verified by our science division. All that remains is to announce our winner. Congratulations to: Sherry Landow! Sherry’s piece, ‘This way’ , impressed with its focus and originality. Our judges remarked that it contained ‘damned powerful imagery that makes me want …

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This is only submission for the MATA HARI Award that made the short list (out of six). As such, Nathan has been awarded the win by default. Joan of Arc by Nathan Boole LA PUCELLE, Jeanne, a resident of Domremy, France expired Monday, May 30th, 1431. No funeral services will be …

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