Louis Allen
Stories (3)
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Eugenia
She had probably been hanging there all night when they found her. She had been young and lithe from what they could tell, her previously sharp ebony skin now turning a sickly gray. They agreed that she must have once radiated real beauty. A beauty that had probably gone unnoticed in the small town they were in. They hoped it had anyway. The alternative was likely worse.
By Louis Allen4 years ago in Fiction
The Last Jam of Fat Foggy Waters & The Streetcar Band
It was a huge club, well over one hundred foot square. The air was humid, real heavy delta air. Cigarette smoke greyed and dulled the crimson lights. There was tremendous noise and chatter, booming voices calling out to old friends and locals across the room. The walls were wooden and disrepaired, like an old dying plantation house, slowly eaten away by the lethargy of the tropics. Perspiration was slick on everyone’s faces, the crowd rippled with white handkerchiefs mopping up brow sweat. I raised myself on the edge of the bar, peering over the throng to try and locate him. I could see the band setting up on stage, clarinet, guitar, drums, double-bass: Joe Miami, The Flannel, Triple Dixon, Cole Stanley. A few couples had got up to dance already and Joe Miami pulled a harmonica out of his pocket to oblige them with a few notes.
By Louis Allen4 years ago in Horror
Charred
He didn’t die quietly. How could he have? Flesh was being seared from his body, cooked, crisped and crackling, and he was screaming accordingly. I remember hearing that the smoke normally suffocates you before the flames burn past your skin and fry your nerve endings. Maybe it would have if he’d been tied to the chair properly. If the slick gasoline he was doused in hadn’t allowed him to loosen out of his bonds. Certainly Father’s men didn’t expect him to crash through the drawing room window pane, making for the deep dark relief of the garden lake. The sizzle and hiss as he plunged in were almost worse than the screams, extinguishing the last of the agonized cries. The body floated limply for a while. Later the men waded in, fastened bricks and rocks and pushed him out to the centre of the lake to sink. I drew my curtains, held Bear close to my chest and went back to bed.
By Louis Allen4 years ago in Horror
