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Urban horror short story


Just enough to make Randal gag quietly into his cupped palm. Faint and sick.
Desperate for a wee, too. Too much coffee. Meanwhile his inflamed eyes went all around, checking, assessing ...

It had only slowly dawned that he was in fact subsisting in a flat beneath General Fucking Broncawei, a war criminal. But once it had, every creak and shudder of the ceiling became especially ominous.

Abstract can be enjoyed as part of Vu Ja De: Collected Short Stories Volume III.

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© 2017 BP Gregory. No material to be used without permission.