made his heart almost stop beating in his chest. All at once, their faces changed to some sort of horrifying hideous demonic beings with insanely angry bulging eyes and mouths filled with hundreds of needle-like teeth. Then in an instant, they were back to their original appearance. It was as if the things wanted him to see their true nature, even if just for a millisecond. He understood then that somehow, impossibly they had heard his thoughts and knew how he had been demeaning them. He felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck and trickle down his spine. Likewise, perspiration began to bead on his forehead. What the hell was going on?
Then in unison, they all took a single step forward. He heard the thunderous simultaneous slap of dozens of sneakers, flip-flops, Crocks and sandals all strike the asphalt at the same time creating a rumbling sound that shook Quentin to his core. Then there was another followed by another. He was shell-shocked sitting, sweating and shaking, as the thundering horde grew ever closer with each slow and forceful step. Then the closest of the crowd were against the edge of the table pushing it over with the sheer weight of their mass. Quentin could smell a combination of sweat, body odor, greasy French fries and some underlying stink he couldn’t even begin to identify as the table suddenly toppled over, knocking him backward to the ground.
Quentin felt the air explode from his lungs, first from the impact of his body hitting the hard paving then again when the rounded plastic edge of the table came crashing down upon him along with the weight of dozens of those shambling people falling with it. He heard a cracking sound followed by several sharp agonizing stabs of pain and realized his ribs had been broken. Then with his arms pinned by his sides also by the table edge, he felt it suddenly becoming more and more difficult to breath. It was then he realized his broken ribs had punctured his lungs and all of the air was leaving his body.
Dozens of pairs of hands began to reach down toward him as he looked up into the hateful inhuman eyes of those strange crushing beings. He felt his hair torn out by the roots but he couldn’t scream because of his lack of oxygen. Soon unknown fingers entered his mouth while others pawed his face. Still others grabbed at his legs, abdomen and crotch. He felt a ripping and tearing of his clothing from his body then he felt sharp fingernails digging deep into his exposed flesh and tearing it to shreds.
A particularly strong pair of hand found their way around his throat, making an already impossible situation even worse. With one final gasp, Quentin felt the last traces of his life fade away to nothing as he looked up at the insane pairs of angry eyes staring down at him.
Soon the crowd stood back up and slowly work their way out into the main flow of pedestrian traffic once again leaving Quentin’s ravaged corpse lying beneath the fallen table. Once again, the air was full of the many strange and wonderful smells of the street fair.
Thomas M. Malafarina
Thomas M. Malafarina is a horror fiction author from the South Heidelberg Twp area of Berks County, Pennsylvania. He was born July 23, 1955, in Ashland, Schuylkill County, PA where he lived until moving to Berks County in 1979.
Many of Thomas’s stories take place in his native Schuylkill County and also in Berks County settings. Thomas’s books are published by Sunbury Press of Mechanicsburg, PA.
Thomas’s early novels included 99 Souls, Burn Phone and Eye Contact all three of which are now out of print, having been reworked and re-titled by Thomas from 2016-2018. They were replaced by the new books, It Waits Below, Burner and From the Dark. His novel, Fallen Stones is currently still available although this also is being reworked by Thomas and will eventually be called Circle of Blood and re-released. Other novels include three in his Dead Kill series, Dead Kill Book 1: The Ridge Of Death, Dead Kill Book 2: The Ridge of Change and the third installment, Dead Kill Book 3: The Ridge of War.
The Play of Dionysus
Alexander Bailey
The lights dim.
A hush fell over the crowd.
The curtain pulled back to reveal a stage full of lit black candles.
Brown robed figures walked out from each side of the stage to stand around a stone altar.