Her Prince of Shadow

Hello! A super long time ago in the distant past (like 10ish years ago?) I wrote a bad horror story. It’s just got problems. I want to revisit this universe and character and fix the issues I see but I haven’t found the right way to approach it yet. That said, I don’t want to forget this character. So here’s a reprint from my old blog to keep it fresh in my mind.

Also, to note, this story was directly inspired by reading the story-Smoke Ghost by Fritz Leiber Jr. The story terrified me and its imagery has stuck with me ever since my first reading.

Edd Cartier illustrated this so that I would never know the sweet embrace of sleep again.

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Wet Dull Smack

Hello all!

Below is one of my favorite pieces published by the Fringe Magazine. It has its problems but I think it really sets up the character Shelly for some later stories and has a good way of drawing you in quick. I need to edit out some of the ‘purple passages’ and rework some ‘show-don’t-tell’ but I still like it. Enjoy and go read some more Fringe afterwards!


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Just Got to Laugh About the End


Below is my first published piece of fiction ever! I was way too excited to have this online when it first came out. I just knew I was going to be rolling in cash within the week. Now that my excitement has died down from my first publication, I still enjoy reading the short piece.

Weirdyear Magazine is a great place for just starting out writer. This has been one of my favorite journals since submitting to it because it is all flash fiction. You should check it out at: http://www.weirdyear.com/

Just Got to Laugh About the End

By Daniel J. Pool

He would have to laugh about this. That’s what he needed now. The world was God’s concern now. He only had one to laugh all this off.

To worry; about the apocalypse, the death of his friends, Marla, the zombies—was as bad as being afraid. Though being afraid would have been a perfectly acceptable emotion, he just simply didn’t have enough laughter to shrug fear off right now. Things were difficult enough by trying to drink a whole case of warm beer, and polish off his last pack of cigarettes by noon (they always made him feel sick).

The invasion had been slow at first, like the staggering of their undead feet on the concrete; scoffing, moaning, screaming, gasping, they never stopped, never took a break, so there was nothing to do but laugh about it. Laugh about them looking like people he knew. Laugh about the explosion that would send them back to the hell they crawled from. No horsemen, four or four-hundred, could tell him what to do now. He had made up his mind, and he had laugh about it.

He laughed from atop the mall roof, “save moNEY! (a shot from his 12 gauge rang clear as the bells that once hung around Marla’s necklace), live betTER! (another ring, another bell)”

“NO, not now, hahahha!” He laughed away his pain to an empty sky, and a deserted world. He laughed and laughed till he wheezed for breath and his sides hurt. Only the dead remained to hear his laughter. “Got to laugh” he said. Laugh about coming to the mall. Laugh about getting trapped here. Laugh about your friends being eaten. Laugh about Marla being taken by a crowd of them. Laugh about being the only one left. AND, most of all, laugh about blowing them all up. Laugh about them. GOD damn IT! LAUGH! That’s just as far as he could laugh, as far as he could think, as far as he could go, not caring.

He crawled down from his roost atop the gas station and made his way to the first pump. As he tied the homemade bomb he could hear them coming, hear them trying to remember to breath, hear the hissing sound the bullet holes made as their rotten cores sloshed with their morning meal of teenagers. For a second, just a second, he thought he heard one laugh, as though his attempt at revenge was fool-hearted. No matter, it was done. He kissed Marla’s necklace, and with that lit the fuse. He ran at first away from the gas station into the parking lot, but then stopped. He looked at the swarm coming closer and he just laughed.

A fire ball engulfed his being. As he was vaporized, he laughed.


Posted by E.S. Wynn on 9/13/10 at Weird Year Magazine: http://weirdyear.blogspot.com/search/label/Daniel%20J.%20Pool

5 Cliffhanger (Stories)

(Edit, 2:12 PM) Woops-a-doodle! I accidentally posted this to the wrong blog. Hate it when that happens (it’s alright). If you like this post, check out Double Issue Show’s blog or the podcast for more content.

P.S. –Guess what’ve been working? A podcast! Surprise! I’ll talk about it more soon.
Are you ready to have to wait for the next episode to get the resolution you crave? Then have we got a show for you! This week is the first part of a two-parter as we set up unresolved stories that we’ll finish up in two weeks. The Twist? We’ll be finishing each other’s stories. Hope you enjoy the setup and hope we can get ourselves out of these ones.

Double Issue Final

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New Year, Same Me

Greetings! The holidays were a whirlwind here. My last day of work for the year was also the day I saw the Last Jedi and the day I graduated (and that was the first night). Christmas break is traditionally a time of the year where I make big promises to not deliver on. I always say I’m gonna do big things but usually just take a break. This year wasn’t really any different but then I started the year off sick.


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