
Wyldblood
science fiction & fantasy
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Entertain, Embrace, Eat
Dana Vickerson

Two hazy orange moons hang fat in the sky as Ryan spins in a wide circle and lets out a laugh. “This is a good one.”
Dax looks pleased. As he takes her hand, the rocky ground beneath their feet rumbles. Dax’s smile turns wicked.
“What’s that?” Ryan says.
He doesn’t answer, just grips her tighter and looks to the horizon. “Must be a cryogeyser.”
“This better not be like the flesh-eating worms on Europa.”
Dark shapes emerge from the surrounding outcropping, massive fuzzy bodies with eight slender arms bent high above their bodies.
Ryan shoves his arm, “No way, I’m out!”
She exits the simulation and returns to the input room, a stark white box like the Construct from The Matrix, her favorite classic movie.
After a moment, Dax appears. “Why’d you bail? They didn’t look so tough.”
“Giant spiders? You know I don’t like scary stuff.”
He pulls her close, and she wishes she could feel his arms in real life. Learn the scent of his skin.
“Well, it’s your turn to pick, so do your worst.”
“I make the best scenes.” She types in her three keywords and lets the AI generate their next world. “Ready?”
They step into the bustling nightlife of Paris, cobblestone streets slick with light summer rain. Ryan can almost smell the jasmine as they pass manicured hedges lining packed cafes.
“Didn’t we do Paris last weekend?”
“Shut up. I love it.”
They walk along an ornate stone bridge and the Eiffel Tower comes into view. “Someday, I’ll take you to Paris,” Dax says. “For real.”
She wants to believe that. Wants to believe that someday there won’t be an ocean between them. That they’ll meet in real life. But she likes him. Likes these strolls through never ending fantasies. For now, virtual date night is enough.
“Damn, Ryan. I didn’t think you liked scary.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what’s that?”
Ryan follows Dax’s gaze through the crowd of simulated Parisians until she sees it.
A dark smear detaches itself from a copse of trees in the distance. Pinprick white eyes. A body made of shadows ending in thin, jointed limbs. A mouth open in a silent scream, bursting with yellow, needle-thin teeth.
It fades in and out like a glitch.
“I didn’t…”
It lumbers toward them, stepping skinny legs over the pedestrians in its way. Pinprick eyes trained on Ryan.
“Let’s bail.” She cancels the scene and they both reappear in the input room.
“That thing was freaky. What’d you put in?”
“PARIS;SPRINGTIME;MIDNIGHT,”
“Huh.”
Ryan shivers. “That thing gave me the creeps. Maybe we should call it a night?”
She doesn’t want to–has waited all week for this–but she really didn’t like the way that thing looked at her. And its mouth…
Dax claps his hands. “You know what, I got just the thing.”
Ryan waits as he inputs his keywords and then they’re standing amongst gleaming white aspen trees. Fat flakes flutter down from the starlit sky overhead, and Ryan can see her breath in wispy, white clouds.
She sighs and tries to catch a dancing fleck of snow.
“FOREST;MOONLIGHT;SNOWFALL is my all time favorite.”
“I know. It was our first date,” Dax says. He pushes her against a tree and kisses her lightly on the neck. She closes her eyes and tries to imagine how his lips would really feel. When she opens them again, she sees it.
Its black body is hidden by the dim light but still there, standing between the aspen trees, pinprick eyes staring straight at her. It opens its huge mouth wider than before, and Ryan can see the bloody gash of its throat.
“What the fuck, Dax?”
He spins around. “Ryan, I didn’t…”
The thing crashes toward them through the forest, its jaw opening wider.
“CANCEL IT!” she screams.
The thing is two trees away when the entire scene dissolves and they’re back in the input lobby.
“How did it follow us?” His voice cuts in and out, like he’s losing his connection.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, unwilling to remove her avatar’s hands from her eyes. “I think there’s something wrong with the server. Let’s try again next weekend?”
Dax doesn’t answer.
She looks, and standing behind him is the hideous shadow, its jaw hanging in the air just above his head. Ryan screams as the monster bites down through Dax’s torso, swallowing the upper half of his body.
“FUCK!” Ryan yells and throws off her VR mask, disturbing the orange cat laid out across her keyboard. “Sorry, Pumpkin.”
She steps away from the black monitor and paces the room, taking her cell phone out of her back pocket.
What was up with that? Virus? she texts Dax.
No reply.
She calls him, something she never does.
No answer.
She goes to the kitchen and washes her dirty oatmeal bowl.
Three more calls go unanswered. She paces her bedroom.
Maybe he’s back online? She picks up the VR mask but hesitates. No, fuck that. She turns off her computer. Unplugs it from the wall.
Pumpkin doesn’t seem to appreciate her erratic behavior. He jumps off the desk onto her bed.
“Ok, you’re right, it’s late.”
The adjoining bathroom floor is chilly on her bare feet. She pees quickly then runs cold water into the sink, cupping her hands and splashing her face.
She checks her phone, but no message from Dax.
She’ll call him tomorrow. He probably got disconnected and then decided to crash. It was almost morning his time.
She flips the light off and steps back into her bedroom.
Standing in the center of the room is the tall, hideous creature, its head tilted to duck below her ceiling. Its jaw hangs down almost to the void between its legs, and its pinprick eyes stare right at her.

September 22nd, 2023
Dana Vickerson’s work appears in Dark Matter Magazine, Reckoning, Zooscape, and other places. Her story “A Simple Trade” is forthcoming in Wyldblood. She’s a first reader for Apex and an active member of SFWA and HWA. You can find her on x/Twitter @dmvickerson.
more stories here


Wyldblood 13
Wyldblood 13 is available now
buy from us or from Amazon
Nine great new short stories and two drabbles in a fine new collection from Wyldblood. These stories cover death (and its aftermath), identity (and its pitfalls) choices (and their consequences) and much more. We have aliens with time travel machines and buildings that want you to stay just a little bit longer – like, forever. Thought provoking fantasy and science fiction available in print and digital formats.

From the Depths
Our latest anthology is packed with tales of the murky deep. We’ve got fifteen stories stuffed with selkies and sea monsters, pirates and meremaids, intrigue, adventure and more. Available in print and digitally.
ISBN 978-1-914417-15-3
Wyldblood Magazine subscriptions
Six issues of cutting edge fantasy and science fiction from established and upcoming writers. Packed with stories, interviews and reviews. Available in print or digitally.
£18 digital / £30 print

The Best of Wyldblood is out now!
200 pages full of dragons, demons and dystopian disasters.
Click here to order.
More Free Flash
Appealing Skin Model
Emmie Christie

My skin crawled off me onto the washing room’s tile floor, then skittered up the wall.
“Get back here!” I hissed out from my face of mere muscle and bone. The other models for Appealing Skin watched from their respective washing tubs.
On the wall, my skin shook its hollow head, unable to speak. I gritted my teeth and strode over towards it, reaching. It clambered further up, digging folded skin into the cracks in the brick for handholds.
“You’re going to tear if you’re not careful—!”

The Hanging VIne
Leila Murton Poole

You didn’t believe me about the fairies, Papa. The ones that hummed over the water, catching sunlight in their wings.
Dragonflies, you called them.
You didn’t believe me about the sea serpents—swirling shadows whose humped backs rocked our boat.
They’re fish, Ava, you’d say, waving a calloused hand.
You didn’t believe me about the vine monster. How it wound around Mama—tighter and tighter—until it snapped her neck.

Under Fire, Under Steel
Kai Delmas

My sensors boot up as my pod is en route to my next target. Explosive shells bang and thud all around me. If I were human I’d be scared for my life.
Luckily, I’m not burdened with fear. I need only follow orders and destroy my targets, whatever they may be. And if I fail, the military can send another killing machine just like me.
My pod decelerates, preparing for entry into the rebel compound. A missile strikes the pod and knocks me off course, this happens all the time—the pod is easier to hit once it prepares for landing.
The crash is uncomfortable but comfort is not part of my job description. I exit the pod and determine all my limbs are functional. A few dents here and there but their integrity hasn’t been harmed.
I’m one mile off target.
My metal limbs are highly flexible, yet robust and obviously bullet-proof. They carry me swiftly toward the compound. It doesn’t take long for the first snipers to take aim at me.

Feels Like the End of the World
Austin Shirey
Content warning: themes of bereavement and loss.

They said nothing to each other on the drive home from the hospital. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands; she clutched hers in her lap.
At home, she got out of the truck and disappeared inside. He took his time getting out. There was no point hurrying anymore.
Later, he stood in the garage, hands in his pockets, looking at the stuff piled around. The accumulation of a life together. Why was it that something so humdrum looked so different after a tragedy? Was it the tears? He didn’t know.

Weeper
Rosalind Goldsmith

Damn. Couldn’t do it. Tried, but the tears wouldn’t come. I stood there in front of the microphone like a damn idiot. Couldn’t squeeze out one drop. Thing is, if I don’t watch out, they’ll fire me – and then I’ll really have something to cry about.
The supervisor at CryCry is ok though. He knows these things happen sometimes and he’s smart, Josh. He always has a standby waiting in the wings just in case. When I choked, Violet – round little spider-eyes Violet – came wobblejogging out onto the stage, grabbed the mic and took over. I departed, stage right, depressed but not depressed enough, I guess.
They love Violet at CryCry. She doesn’t just cry – she howls, and the mascara bleeds down her face and the eyeliner too, and she just does these complete body sobs, which gets everybody going. They all start weeping at the same time – all of them sitting at their little tables, sobbing, hugging each other, tears falling into their drinks so much that they can’t drink them anymore, there’s too much salt water in there.


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