This is the final issue of Year 3 of the E-rag. When I started, back in October of 2001, I didn't know if I would be able to write an entire publication all by my lonesome. I really didn't even have any interest in writing short stories. I wanted to be a Dean Koontz and sell my first novel straight off without a history of short stories in publication. However, I had this idea about putting my horror knowledge to use. So I sat down and I wrote an article. That article was called...

One day in 1959, just a few days before Halloween, Sam Raimi was born somewhere in Michigan. Second of three children, Sam would become arguably the most famous. (Though admittedly, younger brother Ted is a hot commodity as Joxer of Xena fame). The first real ground of his decidedly spectacular career as director--not to mention script writer--was broken in 1978 with the 32 minute feature "Within the Woods". Within the Woods was a promotional project to help gather funds for a movie he wanted to make.

A deep gloom pervaded the new world. They had stumbled into it when they had passed through that mysterious door hung from nothingness. The gloom aside, it was also a place of noise and at times cacophony. Insects created their music: clicking, chirruping, the reedy sound of legs rubbed together. Birds accompanied them: chattering, calling, singing, and sometimes crying out with forlorn.

There was a crash and a thump. Those were followed by a wet sloshing. Then silence reigned for a brief moment before the bright, sharp, shattering of glass. Cassandra couldn't have known that those three sequences of sound were only slightly out of order to what would later be--three days later to be precise--the first most defining moment of her adult life.

Detective Joseph Thorne is a dirty cop. He steals evidence, does drugs, and buys prostitutes. He sees it as getting by and keeping his marriage together. Joseph believes that life is full of games and puzzles and he has a knack for solving them. Joseph catches a case, where a man he knew years ago has been brutally mangled, and is thrown into a puzzle that just might be beyond him.

Horror writer R. Chetwynd-Hayes has a run in with a vampire named Eramus. Eramus takes the writer to a special club, The Monster Club. At the club, between entertainment acts, the two discuss monster genealogy and the writer learns of three chilling tales of true monsters. The first is of a creature called a Shadmock. What does a Shadmock do? It whistles. That doesn't sound scary until the story unfolds.

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

"Sally? Please wake up! Don't be dead, don't be dead! You have to see this. We have lights."

Behind me she stirred. My heart slammed even harder in my chest than before. I then heard a wet sound. She was gurgling heavily in the back of her throat. I began to shudder uncontrollably. She began to cough, heavy and phlegm-like. I shrieked.

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.

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

Peter stepped back from the full-length window. He leaned heavily against the wall and nearly banged his head against it. There were blindfolded bodies piled everywhere inside the room except for nearest the door. I could see some of them still writhing. If I had to guess I'd say most of them were still alive. They were piled three people high in some spots.

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