Spring into horror
Dive into cli-fi themed scares with Macabre Monday
T.S. Eliot famously declared April is the cruelest month. Spring brings forth new flowers that inevitably succumb to the ravages of mortality by the fall.
Spring takes on a purpose beyond resurrection and renewal inside the Macabre Monday crypt. Nature can be a monster and an antagonist in many dark tales. Much more than a setting, it is the tool of vengeance and conduit for horror.
With Earth Day on the horizon this week, we invite you to dip your toes in the climate fiction pool and treat us to your best cli-fi horror tales. Choose from drabble-sized (100 words), postcard-sized (250 words), or sudden fiction sized (251 to 750 words) and share your best nature-themed horror with us.
Make us afraid to go outdoors … or stay inside.
The Weekly Digest
A selection of last week’s memorable Macabre Monday offerings:
Do you like killer bunny stories? You’re in for a treat with The Vampiric Rabbit. This horror gem from
is inspired by The Velveteen Rabbit and written in the same style.
Lighthouses are a perfect setting for horror.
spins a dark maritime tale in one with The Keeper. It’s the latest addition to her detailed and immersive Ferris Island lore.
A seance horror story with music forming a key part of the narrative? Yes, please! That’s what you get to enjoy with
’ new offering — Part One: The Ninth Harmonic.
You don’t want to be a passenger on this plane.
takes holiday travel in a squeamish new direction with Holiday from Hell, his latest dark drabble (100-word story).
- takes a stab at body horror with Skin — a thoroughly haunting tale.
Finally, what happens when a witch survives her own execution?
has the answer in his dark microfiction tale, The Good Witch.
I like cli-fi! Going to use that term from now on.
Here's a drabble that just came to me from the ether:
Roaring. Thundering. Pounding against the thin walls of the shack. I feel them rattle deep in my bones. Booming. Trembling. The earth is shaking. I feel it in my gut. All I see through the shattered windows is darkness. But I can feel the ice wind pouring in. I can sense the heavy clouds looming overhead.
The roof is caving in. The walls will not stay erect much longer.
So I step outside. Only I cannot stand in the wind. It knocks me down like a schoolyard bully. Indifferent to my pain. And then I see it. The blacked sky. Swirling torrents of clouds heavy with not just rain, not just lightning, but with judgement.
Jessica Maison's Bunny story was pretty great, good to see it included.