Carrion At The Door
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About this ebook
"Carrion At The Door" is a collection of subtle horror and modern-noir crime short stories by Costa Koutsoutis. Unspeakable inhuman terrors under the bed. The actions of desperate people in desperate situations. The terror in the night from the shadows...or the unseen threat of your next-door neighbor.
This collection features the original short stories "Apartment Living," "Diner Food," "Bedtime," "This Could Be Love," and "The Heft Of It," as well as a brand-new short featuring Ben Miles, PI/bondsman in "Bailout."
Costa Koutsoutis
Constantine "Costa" Koutsoutis is a writer and cartoonist who lives and works in New York City. He spends his time cooking, drinking coffee, playing with the cat, and watching movies with his girlfriend. A writer since he was little, he's been doing fiction, nonfiction, comics (as writer and artist), essays, zines, blogs, "real" journalism, and even web content stuff since he was in college for others to read. Costa always enjoys hearing from readers, so reach out, say hi.
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Book preview
Carrion At The Door - Costa Koutsoutis
CARRION AT THE DOOR
~
A Short Story Collection
By Costa Koutsoutis
© copyright constantine koutsoutis 2013
Cover design c/o the author
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction
Apartment Living
Diner Food
Bedtime
This Could Be Love
Blow
The Heft Of It
Bailout
Oh look, a short story e-book collection, how original,
you say, looking at this e-book, a collection of short stories I’ve done through the years and originally published online.
Shut the fuck up, no one asked you. Go back to rebuilding your David Foster Wallace collection and leave the horror and crime to the rest of us. I love shorts because of their potential in these genres, in the crossover of the two genres, and in the unique takes that we can use to approach them. Yes, I grew up on horror movies and crime novels, but at the heart of it, I mostly write about crime and horror because I love the freedom that the two worlds offer, both on their own and combined.
Anyway, this is just a collected version of the best of what I’ve done in terms of the underrated medium of short stories. Hope you enjoy it.
-Costa Koutsoutis, 10/23/2013
Apartment Living
-
Nothing in the apartment ever worked, ever. The heat was dead making it bone-chillingly cold in the wintertime, the cable flickered at random intervals, and the door was a battle to unlock, swelling up with humidity when it got too hot or too rainy.
The walls were sound though, the rent was cheap, and no one ever questioned him coming and going at odd hours every so often, a couple of times a year. He never stayed long and was quiet too, only occupying the apartment a night or two at the most.
They were still here, anyway.
He didn’t see them all the time, just once in a while when he was really tired, or when the light was just right as the angles all worked. Then, then he’d see them.
He saw them.
The door had been really bad this time, and he’d turned around too fast in anger in the doorway, angry from a recent full day of work that had turned out to be far more frustrating than he’d intended to let it get. He was too old, he told himself, to be trying this hard, even at the reduced schedule he’d set himself. His daughter, laughing when he’d visit her and her husband and the baby, told him that he should just retire for good and stay still, maybe get a condo instead of staying in hotels every time he came to this city for work and going back to his little old apartment, where he and his wife had lived for almost thirty years.
But no, he wanted to work, enjoyed it even though it was decades of lies, easy ones, but lies all the same piled on top of each other. And for the most part he enjoyed the more sedate pace he’d set for himself, except for tonight. Tonight, when he realized he was completely ill-prepared for the project, he’d sighed and angrily, moved to improvise quickly and manage to salvage the whole thing though he realized that it’d probably ruined his chances of getting another project going for quite a while. Still, he’d come back to the apartment just like he’d planned and now, would leave in the morning. It was the last thing he wanted to do honestly, he’d rather have just turned around and gotten right onto the plane, but rules were rules.
She’d been there, waiting.
I don’t wanna hear it,
he growled. Just not tonight, I’ll be gone in the morning, okay? I’ll be gone, please, just not tonight.
She turned around and disappeared, and he groaned. Not tonight.
He dropped his bag, dropped it harder than he’d intended, really. It clattered and thudded hard, but he barely cared, letting himself fall into the beat-up old gray couch, the only piece of furniture that he’d brought