Flash Fiction Online #133, October 2024

“Within the Dead Whale” by Spencer Nitkey

“The Clockwork Sisters” by L. M. Guay

“Dissection of a Mermaid” by Wailana Kalama

“The Trade” by Erin MacNair (reprint, not reviewed)

“Vinegar-Gurgle” by Andrew K Hoe

“The Tub” by Meg Elison

“To Serve the Emperor” by Damián Neri

“Final Harvest” by Christine Lucas

Reviewed by Victoria Silverwolf

This special double-sized issue is dedicated to weird horror. Whether by design or coincidence, a majority of the stories also deal with relationships between parents and offspring.

In “Within the Dead Whale” by Spencer Nitkey, children play inside the body of the deceased animal that appears in the title. Later, the father of two of the children, along with other parents, enters the whale, with unexpected results.

The father is divorced and a part-time parent, but is certainly not a bad person. The fate he faces at the end of the story seems out of proportion to his failure to be a perfect father. The same fate also awaits the other parents in the story, implying that all children are malevolent. Even if this is the author’s intent, which seems unlikely, why the youngsters enjoy romping inside a rotting, stinking corpse remains unexplained.

“The Clockwork Sisters” by L. M. Guay features a pair of mechanical siblings. The older rebels against their creators (who are perceived as their parents.) The younger creates her own offspring.

This steampunk fantasy is rich with vivid detail. The conclusion is ambiguous, but appears to have something to say about the bond between siblings and the pain of separation. Readers are likely to find it similar to a mechanical creation itself; lovely, but lacking a certain inner life.

“Dissection of a Mermaid” by Wailana Kalama takes the currently popular form of a numbered list; in this case, a set of instructions explaining how to perform the task mentioned in the title. Alternating with cold, scientific sections describing the methods to be used are much more emotional sections revealing the anonymous dissector’s (always addressed as “you”) reasons for cutting open the creature.

Without giving away too much, it can be said that this story also has something to do with parent and child. The process of dissection provides sufficient visceral chills for any fan of gruesome horror. Whether the use of second person narration and a numbered list adds anything to the story is more questionable.

In “Vinegar-Gurgle” by Andrew K Hoe, the protagonist witnesses but does not take part in an attack on a woman. At home, he draws the act of violence as a comic strip, in an attempt to deal with its emotional impact. The drawing changes in frightening ways, leading to a final, disturbing transformation.

Besides offering a genuinely eerie mood and an intense, introspective style of narration, the author also deals with a serious social problem. Unlike many horror stories, which lead to inevitable conclusions, this one has a climax that is both unexpected and appropriate.

In “The Tub” by Meg Elison, a woman tries to briefly escape her responsibilities as wife and mother by taking a long, luxurious bath. This innocent indulgence turns into a nightmare of body transformation.

If the woman’s strange experience has a deeper meaning than being a source of bizarre horror, it escapes me. She is not a neglectful spouse or parent, but simply a normal person engaging in an ordinary activity. This lack of connection between character and plot weakens the impact.

In “To Serve the Emperor” by Damián Neri, a woman gives birth to a fully developed but tiny double of the ruler named in the title. The real emperor is mentally linked to this miniature version of himself. His motive is to experience being devoured by the woman.

This story definitely qualifies as weird horror, with an emphasis on weird. If the premise has some symbolic meaning, it is opaque. Readers of New Weird fiction will best appreciate this very strange tale.

“Final Harvest” by Christine Lucas takes place in a fantasy world where plants and fungi bloom from the bodies of the newly dead. The types of growths depend on the character of the deceased. The narrator’s profession is harvesting these valuable items. The narrator’s mother is the latest corpse to be reaped.

From the beginning, it is clear that the mother was emotionally abusive. The narrator performs the harvesting, despite the emotional toil it takes, to be free of the abuser. The story’s allegorical intent is obvious, perhaps a little too much so for full enjoyment as fiction.

Victoria Silverwolf reviewed a story by one of these authors in another publication yesterday.