4,900 Words She lay bleeding upon her cartridge belts. She could not stand up. The piercing pain in her stomach would not allow it. Catalina raised her head, squinting. A man with a long coat, shin…The Dude Who Collected Lovecraft

3,700 Words The last of the fairies worked in a charnel house, taking apart the beasts that came dead under her hands. In her youth, she had been the last and least of three; now she was the only l…Talking to Cancer

Featured reprint: “Ghost Marriage” by P. Djeli Clark!Origin Story

SHORT FICTION (Reprint): Marla and Zufi, the reigning queens of Hell, were eight years into a meaningless spat, living more as roommates than lovers, and as a consequence, Marla was irritable and Z…Ghost Marriage

SHORT FICTION: Don’t stop until the world clicks back into position. Sky above, earth below. Flesh threaded along calcium. Nerves and sinew, thews and thighs, the gravity of viscera and old scars, …Three Petitions to the Queen of Hell

SHORT FICTION: A white man in overalls, shivering and rubbing his arms as he ran up the alleyway. Everything about that was suspicious. Did she know who he was?What to Do When It’s Nothing but Static

SHORT FICTION: After the zombie outbreak in San Fontaine was put down, Zadie treated herself to a new hair color as a way to get away from constantly watching the news.Luisah’s Church

SHORT FICTION: When the security alarm rang out, Zhang Dong was at the very peak of the village, thinking about family.A Different Kind of Place

SHORT FICTION: Erika’s fingers tense on the steering wheel as she approaches the Kansas-Colorado state line. Endless fields of wheat, waiting to be harvested, sit on both sides of the interstate, t…All Clear

The Whipping Girls

SHORT FICTION: My board was dwindling quickly, and my anger at such a one-sided defeat was increased whenever I looked up into Brahms’ smug, synth face—my face.Boy A, Girl A, Slender Man

SHORT FICTION: The little girl reached up and tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Mommy. That man’s here again!”Master Brahms

SHORT FICTION: I waste a hard-earned chit for public access to chase a clue that turns out to be poetry.Godzilla vs Buster Keaton, Or: I Didn’t Even Need a Map

SHORT FICTION: My granddad used to tell me that there were only two things he was afraid of: sharks and somehow finding himself in Iraq.Toward a New Lexicon of Augury

SHORT FICTION: Every night, the devil sits himself on the lip of her bed and every night, she sighs and whispers the same word over and again. “Yes.”The Standard of Ur

SHORT FICTION: My brothers imagined themselves the first to speak without mouths…Bargains by the Slant-Light

SHORT FICTION: My first memory is of orderly rows of human skulls placed on glass shelves.With Lips Sewn Shut

SHORT FICTION: Meanwhile, I’m checking out Coyote. Seriously, the dude’s not even trying to hide. To me, he looks like an actual dog dressed in an Armani suit.A Siren’s Cry Is a Song of Sorrow

SHORT FICTION: River Street’s never hard to find; in fact, you’re likely to stumble into it while looking for somewhere else entirely.Coyote Now Wears a Suit

SHORT FICTION: When Amelia turned fourteen, everyone assured her that she’d find her fairy soon.River Street

SHORT FICTION: Monday. “Pisces. You started showing your hidden skills and people are noticing! Accept the changes that are coming.”Field Biology of the Wee Fairies

SHORT FICTION: I watched my love die in the claw of a Scorpion Man.The Barnum Effect

SHORT FICTION: When he learn he couldn’t have one, he did find a child in the water.Jewel of the Vashwa

SHORT FICTION: Have you lost me yet? The trick question, as if I am something to be found and kept, locked in your chest of bones.Gasping

SHORT FICTION: First it’s in my toes, like they’re being suckled on by a mouth full of battery acid; then my feet buzz, pins and needles in my soles before a bigger, more insistent spasm shoots up …La Ciguapa, For the Reeds, For Herself

Prism

For Southern Girls When the Zodiac Ain’t Near Enough

SHORT FICTION: I ascend during the church picnic. My thighs peel off the plastic bench with a crisp smack, and I’m two feet into the air before I understand what is happening.Kerouac’s Renascence

In the morning, when the fog lies thick and heavy on the water, I sit at my workbench and seed the next simulant. It takes fourteen double-C commands to move the digital embryo into the simulation …The Chariots, the Horsemen

When You’re Ready