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New Flash: Two tales of giant rats, sin and freshly baked bread

28/9/2015

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​Two short pieces of fiction for you this week – featuring giant rats and devious demons – bringing you urban fantasy at its best. Written by Andrew Kozma and Nicholas C. Allen, both stories contain elements of the surreal and Americana, as well as sin and freshly baked bread...


The Rats
by Andrew Kozma



The rats were getting larger.

They were getting so large that the sewers strained to hold them.

First the mayor sent in cats. Then dogs. Then tigers. Finally, they sent in the circus bears.
    
Their cries were horrible. None came back alive.
    
Aboveground, the city slowly emptied. Rats invaded pantries. They took over grocery stores. At night, people mistook the rats for taxis.

Their cries were horrible. None came back alive.

When the call went out for volunteers, I volunteered. I’d always loved rats. I thought I could talk them down. Get them to rethink their plans.
​
I entered the sewers like a martyr, my head held high, a wheel of cheese cradled in each arm.
    
I was expected. They took me under their furry little wings. They fitted me for teeth.

They said, “This is how it’s done.”

* Houston-based Andrew Kozma’s fiction has appeared in Drabblecast, Grievous Angel, Daily Science Fiction, Stupefying Stories and Albedo One.



The Demon Behind the Subway on F Street
by Nicholas C. Allen



There was a demon behind the Subway restaurant on F Street. With black eyes, white, leathery skin, and a forked tongue that slithered out every so often, he was a sight to send shivers down even a domineering mother-in-law's spine. Even more disconcerting was the fact that he remained there all times, standing steadfast in the rain, the snow, the heat, and the occasional milkstorm.

His dark, trench-coated figure was an ominous presence that did wonders for the business of the Subway on F Street. It was, in fact, the only Subway restaurant in the city that didn't require one to pay a breathing tax, and it was suggested by numerous people that it was the demon who was responsible.

About the demon's origins, not much was known. One rumor was that he'd always been there, before there was even a Subway. Another rumor claimed that an employee came across him one day when taking the trash out to the dumpster – there he was, waiting, tongue darting out between his lips. Yet another rumor was that he wasn't actually there at all, that he was either A) a shared delusion (a new fad taking the city by storm) or B) simply did not exist. But quite frankly, that was ridiculous. Generally, the people who preferred B would go pale at just the mention of the demon behind the Subway, glancing around and chuckling nervously, saying, "Demon? Hehehehe, what demon? I haven't heard of any demon. Don't be absurd."

Nor did anyone know if he'd one day disappear, never to be seen again. Or to at least take a break. It was only known that if you went up to him and asked to make a purchase, he'd name a price (usually something small, like a blood sacrifice) and upon returning the next day, he'd have a succubus ready for you, the woman of your dreams at your complete and utter disposal for a whole twenty-four hours.

Available to any and all genders, the succubus would loyally follow anywhere she was taken, and would perform any sexual act to the best of her ability (which was guaranteed to be superb, or your blood sacrifice back). She required no protection of any kind, and any child sired as a result of the day's activities would in no way be the responsibility of the father. Exactly twenty-four hours from the time of pick-up, she would then vanish into a plume of smoke that reeked potently of sulfur, leaving the customer in a state of light-headed euphoria as an added bonus.

Though the authorities attempted more than once to bring an end to the demon's habit-forming services, none were ever successful. To this day he stands there, black eyes staring dumbly forward, and his own sulfuric odor partially masked by the pleasant scent of freshly baked bread.

* Nicholas C. Allen is a young man who wants to get the most out of life. When not writing, he enjoys television and Italian food. You can follow him on Twitter at @_nicholasallen

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