Flash Fiction: Ken MacGregor

What detail scripted within a small amount of text. Ken MacGregor efficiently captured the curiosity of Tina, Martin’s pain, and the excruciating dissection in 160 gory words. Bravo!


 What Little Boys are Made of

by Ken MacGregor

Tina pushed down hard on the X-acto knife until it went through Martin’s skin with a little pop. Martin whimpered through the gag and tears fell from his eyes. With an exasperated sigh, Tina looked at her friend.

“You brought this on yourself,” Tina said, “so you can just be quiet.”

Leaning forward to add her weight to the blade, Tina dragged her hand down toward Martin’s belt. She stopped at his bellybutton. Setting the bloodied knife aside, Tina pushed her fingers into the wound. She grabbed the edges and pulled them aside, exposing Martin’s organs.

Frowning, Tina poked around inside her friend’s body cavity, pushing aside guts and organs. After a moment, she stopped and flicked the blood off her fingers.

Martin’s eyes were fluttering, fighting to stay open. They fixed on Tina’s as she looked down at him.


View original post 85 more words

For I am Beckoned: Flash Masters 3 Contest Entry – Cast your vote!

Hello Macabre Followers!

I have entered a Flash Fiction contest at Grey Matter Press, and would really appreciate if you would vote for my flash fiction, For I am Beckoned, on the contest page:  Grey Matter Press Flash Masters 3

My entry was posted on August 28, 2014 at 4:11 am (you can also ctrl + f (find) on the webpage and search by Amanda Headlee).  Leave a reply on my post there to cast your vote.  If you would like to also take the extra step and tweet or Facebook that you voted for me with #FLASHMASTERS, that will potentially score me some extra bonus points.

As always, I greatly appreciate your support as a loyal reader and Horror enthusiast.

Happy haunting,



For I am Beckoned

On the last tendrils of breath, you call out to me through parched lips.  A dry, scratched voice full of loss and disdain. Death.  My name, though whispered, echoes loudly across my realm as I am beckoned to be at your side.  You taunt me by offering the pearl of your life.  So gingerly, you willingly relinquish as though it were nothing.  A gift in which you think you are permitted to return at any given notice.  Silly child, do you still believe life to be a game and that there are no consequences?

A sharp hate within me burns at your ignorance from the beauty you have been granted and now shun.  Moments before you called out to me, I stood at another’s side who clung to her soul as though it were still a nourishing life force for her body contained within the organ of her skin.  She pleaded with me to not force her to let life go as the entrails of her vessel bled away on the pavement of the busy street.

My story falls deaf upon your ears.

With a release, you detach from life and together we descend the stairs into a darker realm.


– If you have enjoyed this piece, be sure to check out my Flash Fiction Library. –