The winter is upon us. The first card-bearing holiday is not too many days away. I have thrown off the shackles of lethargy in a frenzy of varied writings. Nothing motivates like a deadline, well that and a need to alleviate the boredom. It's holiday withdrawal. Rough stuff like another absence that can't possibly make the heart grow fonder.

In 1975 a successful non-fiction author by the name of Graham Masterton saw the phenomenal release of five of his how-to guides about sex and relationships under three different pen names. ...That same year however he also released something much much different... His first horror novel, "The Manitou"...

The sun slipped behind a cloud. The sky seemed to be filling with clouds. The day was turning grey and there was a deep gloom between the trees. They started in between two rough rows of bushes broken by the occasional tree. The truck whispered past the bushes, shaking them.

Warning: May be unsuitable for some readers. This story contains mature subject matter and disturbing situations. Reader Discretion is Advised.

Mabel blinked and looked at her master, Jerald. His dark eyes stared back at her from beneath his knotted eyebrows. She tried on a smile but it faltered. Jerald told her, "You've not heard a word that has passed my lips, have you?"

Her eyes quickly found the floor before she answered, "No, Master, I have not."

Chris Finn takes a short cut in the back roads of West Virginia to avoid a chemical spill on the highway. Out in the middle of nowhere he collides with another vehicle sitting in the centre of the dirt road. The other vehicle was stopped in its tracks by a mess of barb wire left in the road. The wire was not there accidentally.

Jim Ironheart is a hero, though he would rather not be. For some reason Jim is drawn to danger by an outside force. An idea will pop into his head and he must act upon it. It takes him even across the country. When it is over and done he has saved peoples lives. It's something more frightening than it is encouraging to Jim.

Warning: May be unsuitable for some readers. This story contains mature subject matter, disturbing situations, and coarse language. Reader Discretion is Advised.

I headed out across the weed-choked field. The day was bright, but the sky was a never-ending field of light grey clouds. It was often hard to tell if it actually was clouds or if that was just a new colour for the sky. I wiped sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm. Something about the bushes there in the field made me think of food.

This issue we have delved into some very different areas of horror. We have been party to things that many others will never fathom. It is an experience that is personal to each of us, private to our darkest heart. There are strings of commonality we may all share, though. Now is the time to think about it as a whole; one solid, cohesive unit. It is time for the Sommatoria.

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