Edition 12: The Stygian Lepus Magazine, #12

By Stygian Lepus

Featured stories and poems by:

 

A Bloody Price by D.J. Tyrer

A Worthy Recruit by Sebastian Martinez

About the Dark Weather by Max Bindi

Day 22 by Cameron D. Alexander

Death by LaVern Spencer McCarthy

Eating the Elephant: Tools of the Trade by Kimberly Rei & Dean Shawker

Ensnared by Rekha Valliappan

Great Grandpa by LaVern Spencer McCarthy

I Eat Well by Juleigh Howard-Hobson

Lure by Oliver C. Seneca

My Journey Prepared by Nick Romeo

No Huntin' by E.P. Lande

Pits in The Forest by Juleigh Howard-Hobson

Scoots by J.R. Harlow

Season 26 by Bryce Thayne

Slowly, Slowly by LaVern Spencer McCarthy

The Dead Cries by Prayerlife Nwosu

Tomorrow by D.M. Burdett

Vampire Moments by LaVern Spencer McCarthy

Who's Next? by LaVern Spencer McCarthy

Yours Truly, Spring-heeled Jack - Part Two of Two by Glynn Owen Barrass

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stygian Lepus
• Release date: May 31, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223692744

Book preview

The Stygian Lepus

Digital Edition 12

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The Stygian Lepus Magazine

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Jodi Christensen – Fiction Editor

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Kara Hawkers – Poetry Editor

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Dean Shawker – Fiction Editor

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The Hawkmoth – Cover Designer

Copyright © 2024 by The Stygian Lepus Magazine

First published in Australia in May 2024 by The Stygian Lepus Magazine

All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this production may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, including in any AI activity such as training, etc, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

Contents

Season 26

Bryce Thayne

Day 22

Cameron D. Alexander

A Worthy Recruit

Sebastian Martinez

Death

LaVern Spencer McCarthy

Vampire Moments

LaVern Spencer McCarthy

Who's Next?

LaVern Spencer McCarthy

Slowly, Slowly

LaVern Spencer McCarthy

Great Grandpa

LaVern Spencer McCarthy

Yours Truly, Spring-heeled Jack - Part Two

Glynn Owen Barrass

Eating the Elephant: Tools of the Trade

Kimberly Rei & Dean Shawker

Tomorrow

D.M. Burdett

Pits in The Forest

Juleigh Howard-Hobson

I Eat Well

Juleigh Howard-Hobson

The Dead Cries

Prayerlife Nwosu

Ensnared

Rekha Valliappan

Lure

Oliver C. Seneca

My Journey Prepared

Nick Romeo

No Huntin'

E.P. Lande

About the Dark Weather

Max Bindi

Scoots

J.R. Harlow

A Bloody Price

D.J. Tyrer

Fiction Editor

Jodi Christensen

Fiction Editor

Dean Shawker

Poetry Editor

Kara Hawkers

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Letter from the Editor

As we stand on the cusp of the twelfth edition of the Stygian Lepus, I am filled with anticipation and excitement for the journey that awaits us. With the arrival of June, we embark on a new chapter in our exploration of the mysterious and the macabre, and I am honored to guide you through this captivating odyssey.

In this edition, we present a collection of tales and poems that shimmer with the heat of summer and pulse with the energy of the unknown. From the haunting echoes of A Bloody Price by D.J. Tyrer to the chilling whispers of Lure by Oliver C. Seneca, each piece invites you to immerse yourself in worlds where reality bends and twists like the shifting shadows of twilight.

As we celebrate the arrival of summer (or winter, if you're that way inclined), let the stories and poems in this June edition of the Stygian Lepus be your guides through the labyrinth of the human psyche. Allow yourself to be swept away by the currents of emotion and intrigue, as we delve into the depths of the unknown together.

To our esteemed readers, I extend my deepest gratitude for your continued support and enthusiasm. Your unwavering passion for dark speculative fiction fuels our creative endeavors and inspires us to push the boundaries of storytelling with each passing edition.

So join us, dear readers, as we embark on this voyage through the twelfth edition: may the tales and poems within these pages ignite your imagination, spark your curiosity, and leave an indelible mark upon your soul.

Yours in the shadows and the endless quest for truth,

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The Styg

Editor-in-Chief

The Stygian Lepus Magazine

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Season 26

Bryce Thayne

On the last normal day of Samson’s life, he went to the store on his way home from work to grab a present for his daughter, who was just turning eight. He had forgotten about it, but he thought he would still be in the clear. It’s not like she would know he’d waited until the last second. By the time he got home, his wife would have the cake out and everything would go smoothly. As long as Billy kept his shit together and didn’t ruin it for her like her brothers sometimes did.

Samson pulled into his driveway with the small Barbie doll on the passenger seat and looked up at his house. A wave of gratefulness washed over him. He never thought he’d have a house as nice as this. Especially on an English teacher’s salary. But somehow, he made it work.

He reached over, grabbed Gretchen’s present, and headed inside with a smile on his face.

Geez, Dad! Take you long enough? Bobby teased. He was at the kitchen table with his arm propping up his chin.

Samson gave his son a stern look. Well, if you’d stop skipping school, it wouldn’t seem so late.

Bobby rolled his eyes, but in good nature.

Gretchen stood and ran up to him in the small pink dress she always wore. Samson studied her, and all at once, an odd thought rushed into his mind.

Does she have other clothes?

He had no idea where it came from, but now it was there, it screamed the truth. She had no other clothes, that was the thing. Every day, she wore the same pink dress and the same red shoes.

Dad? Gretchen asked.

Samson shook his head and looked down at her blue face that seemed so young, but so permanent. As if it could never change.

Sorry, zoning out. What did you ask?

I asked if I could open my present?

Oh man, these kids never got this one right. He had the same conversation at school every day. A kid would ask if they could use the bathroom. And each time, he would respond, "I don’t know, can you?" It never failed to get laughs.

"I don’t know, Gretchen, can you?"

She laughed. You know what I mean, Dad.

Yes, I suppose I do. Well, you need to eat your cake first.

Yeah, Bobby said, and make sure you share!

Shove it, Bobby, Margret said, walking in with the cake. On it was a number eight with candles wrapping around it.

Samson looked from the cake to his wife with her dark blue skin and red hair. What caught his eye was the same thing that had caught him with Gretchen. Her dress. Had she ever worn anything else? His mind reeled in protest. What was happening?

Come on, honey-goo, Margret said. Both the kids gagged and pretended they were about to puke.

Oh, you kids will do the same when you get older, he said, and sat at the end of the table. The wave of uneasiness still plagued him. As he sat down, he tried to pinpoint where in God’s name it had come from, but nothing came. All he could do was move forward and hope it went away.

Okay, Gretchen, are you ready? Margret asked.

Gretchen jumped up and down, clapping her hands. Samson smiled. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her so excited.

Sure you can, a voice whispered in his mind. On her seventh birthday, twenty-five years ago.

That voice was not something he enjoyed hearing. And what had it said? Twenty-five years ago?

I can’t believe eight years ago, in 2015, you popped out like a small jack-in-the-box, Margret said.

He stared at her. 2015? No, that…that wasn’t right. She was born in 1991. Not 2015.

How can it be 2023 and she only be eight, if she was born in 1991? Doesn’t exactly work, does it?

Nope, not at all. He wasn’t a math teacher, but Jesus Christ, it didn’t take one to do the math on that. If she was born in 1991, how was she only eight? He tried to think of her last birthday and was able to bring it up, and yes, they sat right here with a cake that had a seven instead of an eight, and…he remembered the phone on the wall next to the archway that led into the kitchen. He looked up at the wall now and saw the bare spot where it used to be. When had they gotten rid of it? He couldn’t remember. At this moment, he couldn’t remember a lot of things. Pure terror blossomed in his chest, plaguing his heart and mind