Robin J. Harrison

He woke to a phone call. Blindly, he reached for his phone, slapping his glasses into the floor in the process.     "Hello..?" He answered, groggily.     "Hey, it's Catherine from the office. We found a bunny abandoned in another apartment. Would you like to take him in?"      He was wide awake now.       "Oh. Um, certainly. Let me get ready, and I'll come to the office to get him."     "Wonderful. Thank you so much. I didn't want to have to call animal control to come and get him."     Ten minutes later had Rena walking down to the office. He entered apprehensively, not used to just being able to walk in at the drop of a hat, but the receptionist welcomed him excitedly.     "Hey, thanks for coming. The bunny is over here." She led him to a cage that was far too small for the bunny inside, with far too little hay for the little guy, and the wrong type of water dispenser.     "Thank you for cal...

He stands at the cash register, bored out of his mind. The 3rd shift is really the slowest out of the three shifts he's worked at this convenience store. He's already cleaned the store twice, the coffee pots three times, and counted the cigarettes four times, all out of pure boredom.  Just as he decided to go out onto the floor again, this time to zone and front-face the store for the second time, someone came in, walking right up to the register. "Hi!" He put on his best customer service smile. "Welcome! What can I do for you?" He moved to the side so the customer could see the cigarettes, in case that's what he was looking for. A gun is placed on the counter. "I want all the money in the register." His blood ran cold. He began shaking.  He swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, sir." His life was not worth the measly hundred he had in his register. He opened the register, keeping an eye on the gun and the man as he pulled out the cash. Af...

With my hands held behind my back and a knee keeping my on the ground, there isn't much I can do about the gun pointed to my head. The man in front of me reads from a book in a language he made up, one hand holding the book, the other holding the gun steadily between my eyes. I want to beg him to please don't kill me. Please don't pull the trigger. Please, just let me prove that I can still be useful. But my voice won't work. I'm not sure if it's because of his conditioning, or out of anxiety, but I can't speak to save my life. Literally. I can't believe I'm dying at 14. The book slams closed. The prayers over. He looks at me, nothing but hatred in his eyes. "May your next life treat you better than this one did."  He pulls back the hammer. "I'll find you again once you've reincarnated." His grip tightens. My mother and sister look away. I take a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut. The door opens. "Hey! Is Lee home?...

Knock... knock... knock... The little girl looked up from her book. Had that knock come from the window?  She looked outside. There wasn't anyone there.  She opened the window and looked from side to side. Still nothing. Just the smell of sulfur. Confused, she shrugged and closed the window back, going to finish her book. The next day, her father seemed... off. Irritable, even.  The trend continued for about a week, with her father just getting angrier and angrier, until he finally snapped and back-handed her mother. They fought while the girl hid in her room, crying harder with every glass breaking, and every scream or shout. She woke up the next morning to a hole in the master bedroom, but her mother otherwise unharmed.  Knock... knock... knock... Her head whipped to the window. There was the face of a small boy, around her age, staring back at her. He waved. She shook her head. Knock... knock... knock... He rapped on the window. She shook her head firmly. She'd ju...

  The way the blood dripped from its gaping maul made my skin crawl. I hated hearing the gurgling cries as it limped about, dragging its hind paws behind it. I hid behind a large desk as it shambled past, sniffing around, I suppose for me, but the blood must have been clogging its nose because it didn’t stop where I was, which was good because with the blood pounding in my ears, I couldn’t think straight. I grabbed my gun, the weapon I’d already tried to off it with, took aim, and as it turned its head to round the corner, I took another shot. This round went right into its eye. It howled in pain and turned around to run back in my direction. I skirted around the desk and made a beeline for the door. My shoulder rammed into it, but it didn’t budge. I rammed the door a couple more times, trying the handle, but it was locked. Panicking, I shot the window out and dove through it. 3 of my 5 bullets were wasted. My ankle was twisted. My heart felt like it was about to explode. But I w...

      As the police officer uncovered the body, she knew this was no ordinary murder. The way the body looked drawn up and dry like it'd been weeks since the date of death, despite the body being only a day old told her it had to be some sicko at the least, but more likely, some supernatural entity had killed this young man.     She recovered the body, deciding that forensics could handle the body, and she could give her two cents if asked. She wasn't a detective, after all.     However, she could still investigate the murder. That was her job as a police officer, after all.      She wrote her report, then went back to the station. At the station, she started her research. She looked up anything she could think of that could have done this to the victim.     She researched all manner of cannibalistic monsters. She was there for so long, the shift change happened around her, catching her off guard