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    Nightmare Magazine, Issue 82 (July 2019): Nightmare Magazine, #82
    Nightmare Magazine, Issue 82 (July 2019): Nightmare Magazine, #82
    Nightmare Magazine, Issue 82 (July 2019): Nightmare Magazine, #82
    Ebook117 pages1 hour

    Nightmare Magazine, Issue 82 (July 2019): Nightmare Magazine, #82

    By John Joseph Adams, Adam-Troy Castro, Seanan McGuire and

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    About this ebook

    NIGHTMARE is an online horror and dark fantasy magazine. In NIGHTMARE's pages, you will find all kinds of horror fiction, from zombie stories and haunted house tales, to visceral psychological horror.

    If you're the outdoorsy type, our new short story by Simon Strantzas, "Antripuu," might make your next adventure a little more terrifying. We apologize if you're too frightened to enjoy that hike or camping trip! Our other original short story, "No Other Life," by Isabel Cañas, should please both lovers of medieval history and fans of vampire lore. We also have reprints by Seanan McGuire ("Threnody for Little Girl, with Tuna, at the End of the World") and Cody Goodfellow ("At the Riding School"). In the latest installment of our column on horror, "The H Word," Kaaron Warren looks into the weird and disturbing world of ghost photography. We also have author spotlights with our authors, and a book review from Adam-Troy Castro.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJohn Joseph Adams
    Release dateJul 1, 2019
    ISBN9781393188926
    Nightmare Magazine, Issue 82 (July 2019): Nightmare Magazine, #82
    Author

    John Joseph Adams

    John Joseph Adams is the series editor of The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy and the editor of the Hugo Award–winning Lightspeed, and of more than forty anthologies, including Lost Worlds & Mythological Kingdoms, The Far Reaches, and Out There Screaming (coedited with Jordan Peele).

    Read more from John Joseph Adams

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      Book preview

      Nightmare Magazine, Issue 82 (July 2019) - John Joseph Adams

      Nightmare Magazine

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Issue 82, July 2019

      FROM THE EDITOR

      Editorial: July 2019

      FICTION

      Antripuu

      Simon Strantzas

      Threnody for Little Girl, with Tuna, at the End of the World

      Seanan McGuire

      No Other Life

      Isabel Cañas

      At the Riding School

      Cody Goodfellow

      NONFICTION

      The H Word: Proof of Afterlife

      Kaaron Warren

      Book Reviews: July 2019

      Adam-Troy Castro

      AUTHOR SPOTLIGHTS

      Simon Strantzas

      Isabel Cañas

      MISCELLANY

      Coming Attractions

      Stay Connected

      Subscriptions and Ebooks

      Support Us on Patreon or Drip, or How to Become a Dragonrider or Space Wizard

      About the Nightmare Team

      Also Edited by John Joseph Adams

      © 2019 Nightmare Magazine

      Cover by Rosario Rizzo / Adobe Stock Footage

      www.nightmare-magazine.com

      From the EditorBEST AMERICAN SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY 2018

      Editorial: July 2019

      John Joseph Adams | 134 words

      Welcome to issue eighty-two of Nightmare!

      If you’re the outdoorsy type, our new short story by Simon Strantzas, Antripuu, might make your next adventure a little more terrifying. We apologize if you’re too frightened to enjoy that hike or camping trip! Our other original short story, No Other Life, by Isabel Cañas, should please both lovers of medieval history and fans of vampire lore. We also have reprints by Seanan McGuire (Threnody for Little Girl, with Tuna, at the End of the World) and Cody Goodfellow (At the Riding School).

      In the latest installment of our column on horror, The H Word, Kaaron Warren looks into the weird and disturbing world of ghost photography. We also have author spotlights with our authors, and a book review from Adam-Troy Castro.

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      John Joseph Adams, in addition to serving as publisher and editor-in-chief of Nightmare, is the editor of John Joseph Adams Books, an science fiction and fantasy imprint from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. He is also the series editor of Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy, as well as the bestselling editor of many other anthologies, including The Mad Scientist’s Guide to World Domination, Robot Uprisings, Dead Man’s Hand, Armored, Brave New Worlds, Wastelands, and The Living Dead. Recent projects include: Cosmic Powers, What the #@&% Is That?, Operation Arcana, Loosed Upon the World, Wastelands 2, Press Start to Play, and The Apocalypse Triptych: The End is Nigh, The End is Now, and The End Has Come. Called the reigning king of the anthology world by Barnes & Noble, John is a two-time winner of the Hugo Award (for which he has been a finalist eleven times) and is a seven-time World Fantasy Award finalist. John is also the editor and publisher of Lightspeed Magazine and is a producer for Wired.com’s The Geek’s Guide to the Galaxy podcast. Find him on Twitter @johnjosephadams.

      FictionDiscover John Joseph Adams Books

      Antripuu

      Simon Strantzas | 5714 words

      There are four of us left huddled in the cabin: me, Jerry, Carina, and Kyle. And we’re terrified the door won’t hold. Carina shivers so uncontrollably, her teeth sound like stones rattling down a metal chute. Kyle begs her to quiet down.

      But her teeth aren’t making enough noise to matter. Not compared to the howling storm. It comes in gusts that build in slow waves, rhythmically increasing in both volume and strength until a gale overtakes the cabin, pelting the windows with hard rain. A cold draught pushes past us while we tremble on the floor, wishing we were anyplace else.

      Still, the draught’s not the issue. It sneaks beneath doors and crawls down the chimney, and these are things we may not like, but we expect. It isn’t the storm that bothers us, despite its deep-throated howls and the way it screeches around the corners. The problem, instead, is what’s beneath the storm, mimicking the howls of the storm, trying to coax us into opening the door and letting it in.

      The others are quickly losing hope we’re going to survive this.

      Not me. I lost hope a long time ago.

      • • • •

      Kyle, Jerry, and I have travelled up north together, three former work mates who still get along. Kyle, tall and lean, with a confidence born from getting everything he wants without much difficulty; Jerry, his opposite in a way, trying maybe too hard to remain detached from life’s upsets. But both are good people, and I need to surround myself with good people. I meet so few of them.

      It was Kyle who suggested we hike through Iceteau Forest for a week. Collectively we’ve spent too many nights in downtown bars and pubs, and he thought time outdoors would do us good. I suspect, though, it was his and Jerry’s plan to get me outside my head for a while. Give me something distracting to do, some good stories to focus on for a change. Since all three of us left the socket company, I haven’t landed on my feet the way the two of them have, and I know they’re worried.

      The trip to Iceteau was long, mostly sunny and pleasant. The forecast promised long warm days and short cool nights in that brief window between the rise of the mosquitos and the fall of the black flies. The perfect time to hike into the woods, Kyle said, and when we left our car at the side of the road I felt buoyed enough to wonder if I’d ever want to return to it. Maybe we’d leave that life behind and start anew, become one with the grass and bushes and trees. But it was clearly a dream; my desire to give up and do nothing resurfaced quickly once we started walking.

      The good weather didn’t last long. No more than a day; long enough for us to hike too far to make turning back reasonable. As the storm commenced, we rooted through our backpacks for our waterproof shells and trudged through the deepening mud and the increasingly heavy downpour. After a while, the white noise multiplied on itself, becoming as deafening as it was maddening, as though it were trying to prove something to me: that no matter where or how far I went, my misery would always follow.

      Maybe that misery was why I didn’t notice it. Maybe being unhappy makes it harder to speak. I know the longer we walked through the mud, the less we wanted to talk to one another. Misery loves company, but the miserable just want to be left alone. The wind was hot and drove the rain against the sides of our drawn hoods, creating an impenetrable racket, loud enough to cause hallucinations. Kyle did his best to convince us the storm was abnormal and temporary; that it would be sunny again soon. It sounded like just another story to me.

      We hiked single file, picking our way between tall old trees. Kyle led the way, Jerry close behind, but I couldn’t keep up with their strides. The mud was too thick, and sucked my boots down no matter how many stones I stepped on. Wet leaves clung to me, their weight slowly building. I heard only my panting breath over the rain, interrupted by the scratching of low hanging branches against my hood, and I saw only the grey of heavy sheets of rain. With each deaf and blind stumble forward I sensed something was wrong, and that

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