I'm so flattered to be the winner! Check out the previous months at - https://www.darkholmepublishing.uk/

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I asked him if he had ever loved anything.
He went still for a long moment, claws resting against the side of his cup, steam curling between us like something listening.

“I knew a woman once,” he said finally.

“Long before the river forgot her name.”
I didn’t interrupt.

Monsters don’t like to be rushed when they decide to remember.

☕ Coffee first. Then we face what’s in the lake.

Something is moving beneath the surface.

This week’s Midnight Bestiary entry dives into the chilling folklore of the Rusalka—not as a myth, but as a presence. One tied to longing, to betrayal, to the kind of grief that doesn’t fade… it transforms.

Field notes included. Patterns observed.

And a question that lingers after you’ve finished reading:
What if the water doesn’t just reflect you… but remembers you?

Full entry live now - https://bit.ly/4mr4z59

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“If you ever see a path of white stones—don’t step on them. I did. And it gave me exactly what I asked for. The perfect man... Just not the perfect ending.”

What did she get? Read the story to find out - https://www.darkholmepublishing.uk/

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Have you checked out @DarkHolmePublishing Micro Horror Image prompt??? If you horror is your jam you need to! https://www.darkholmepublishing.uk/dark-descent-microhorror-comp

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“You think I bring life,” he said, tracing the rim of the cup with fingers that weren’t entirely fingers.

Outside, the trees pressed closer to the window.

“Please sit. And I do,” he continued. “Just not the kind you expect.”

A vine slipped across the floor, slow and deliberate.

I didn’t move.

“Growth,” he said softly, “doesn’t stop just because you’re in the way.”

—

Friday Coffee rule: If it’s growing too fast… it’s already decided where you fit.

#horror #horrorwriter #folklore

“People expect horror in autumn,” the thing across from me said. It was something green and half-rooted that smiled without warmth.

“That’s because they mistake death for danger,” it continued wrapping it’s hands around a cup of coffee.  

“What should they fear?” I asked.

It looked toward the window where outside branches were budding. 

“Anything,” it said softly, “that starts to grow too fast.”

—
Thursday rule: Never trust a season just because it arrives in bloom.

#horrorwriter #horror