Excerpts and Freebies


From Horror Haiku and Other Poems


Darkened carnival

Quiet time—don’t slip in blood

The red-nosed clown smiles


Shadows over rust

Forsaken carnival fun

mask the gate to Hell


Creep insanity

along the cobblestones dark

Sharp blade, carve a smile


© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved



From Killers and Demons II:  They Return


The Skeleton

I’m Amanda Miller. I’m seventeen and my family keeps a secret in the upstairs closet. A secret we’ve been guarding since the year 1812, the year my ancestor, Joshua Miller, killed his sister, Annie.

Poor Joshua wasn’t a murderer, no. He killed her in self-defence, but under rather unusual circumstances—she being possessed at the time. Regrettably, her death was not entirely effective, seeing that Annie died but not the thing inside of her.

Which brings everything back to the closet.

That’s where Annie’s kept, you see, in our upstairs closet. Her black skeleton wrapped in a faded quilt, tucked away in a trunk, stored behind the Christmas ornaments. It sounds crazy, I know, but it’s true. That’s the family secret.

Trouble is the secret doesn’t want to stay hidden anymore.


It started a month ago with whispers coming from the closet, mostly late in the evening when I was alone in my room. A soft, sweet sounding voice murmuring, pleading to me.

Let me out. Let me out.

The same words, over and over again, often for hours. I was terrified at first. Scared I was going crazy, and scared it was real. I hid under my covers, tried to ignore the voice, prayed it would stop, but it kept getting louder, more insistent. I didn’t sleep well. And I didn’t tell anyone. Not my parents, not my brother. I don’t know why, but I didn’t. Maybe I liked that someone, something, paid attention to me.

Then one night, the whispering voice called my name. Very faintly, but I heard it.


At first, I thought I imagined it, but it kept repeating.

Amanda, Amanda, Amanda.

I trembled. It knew my name. The thing in the closet knew me, forgettable, ignorable Amanda Miller. I stared at my bedroom door, wondering, a foot dangling off the bed.

I need you, Amanda.

That scared me, and I shoved my pillow around my ears, but the voice kept whispering.

Please, Amanda. Please let me out.


Where are you, Amanda?

I need you, Amanda.

Amanda, please. Amanda, please. Please let me out.

Pillow smashed against my head, face buried in my covers, I tried to ignore it to the point I couldn’t deal, until I needed to scream. Until it started to bargain.

I can help you, Amanda.

Give you what you need.

I know what you want.

You can have what you want.

Just let me out.

Then I sat up in the bed. Could it really know?

I know.

© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved




Currently on Instafreebie:

Fairy Tale Fusion

FTF med

(Available until November 30)



I have two free stories (under 1000 words) available for download at various online stores.



What happens when reality alters and you can’t remember why?  A time travel experiment goes awry, and one scientist must remember how to fix it. His problem? He’s losing his memories. 

etppsEven the Paranormal Play Sports

Things have taken a turn for the paranormal in a small corner of Canada. Set against the backdrop of a hockey game, teenager Deidre Dawson tells her strange story to a reporter. 

Both free stories available on Smashwords, iTunes, Kobo, and Barnes and Noble

Also available:

Free stories and poems at Wattpad

Free stories at Inkitt

Excerpts at Goodreads

The free anthology Twisted Shorties

And the sequel Twisted Shorties II


I post horror stories, along with a hoard of other talented authors, at

Pen of the Damned


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