Anger. Everyone has their own way of expressing it, let alone their own way of DEALING with it. It can be subtle or sickening, calm or conniving, mystical or maniacal. Within this tome are six stories sure to steep you in shock and chills, complimented by poetry, art and photos to set the mood. PLEASANT DREAMS......

The talents showcased in this volume include Anton Glascow, Camille Augustine, Spider, Kody Boye, Dave Halk, and Cinsearae Santiago

REVIEW

"Hallowed Malice is a collection of six horror stories. Most of the stories center around an individual who has been wronged, and the vengeance they take on those who have hurt them. Other stories deal with the pain that comes with the loss of a loved one, focusing on what lengths some people will go to relieve the agony. Sprinkled throughout the anthology are eerie photos and depressing poems. One story stood out from the rest, and that was No Time For Goodbye by Camille Augustine. The writing was thought-provoking, with a tender love story mixed in. Don't fret...there is still a twist at the end to satisfy a love of intrigue and horror. Overall, Hallowed Malice is a truly hair-raising experience."

Reviewed by: Brianna, Reviewer for Bitten By Books.com
bittenbybooks.com

EXCERPT

From "Hallowed Malice: Sacred Vows" by Spider

Sighing, Sharon lifted the receiver from the cradle and announced, "Johnson and Crosley Investment Counselors, how may I direct your call?"

"Is this Sharon?" It was a gruff raspy voice, yet not unpleasant.

"Uhhh...Yes. Yes it is."

"I am going to kill you, you bitch."

"Y...you're what?"

"I"m coming to get you...NOW!"

Sharon dropped the phone as if it was red-hot and stuffed her fingers in her mouth to escape screaming at the threats that spilled forth from the handset. It banged on the desk and spun crazily as fiendish laughter came from the ear piece. It was now 4:50 pm.

"What the Hell is wrong with you?" Becky frowned and faced Sharon. Lindsay was explaining it to her paramour and then abruptly hung up with a huge frown at Sharon as if indicating Sharon was a loon. They all glanced to see if Mr. Johnson, ensconced in his office, would come out to see what the noise had been or not. They all sighed as that door remained closed.

Sharon grinned apologetically, "It was this guy on the phone. He said..."

Lindsay cut her off, "Oh yeah, when I get one of those I tell him about Miss Puss and what she likes to have done to her and hang up before they get off. Really pisses them off."

"But he..." Sharon began again.

Becky snorted, "Remember the guy with the trench coat that tried to flip it open and it was fastened so he couldn't? Before he got it open he was so wilted we just laughed."

Both girls had stood up and were at Becky's receptionist desk, leaving Sharon at the back of the office. They had been there much longer than she and were vastly superior in behavior. It was 4:57 pm.

The door opened and a black clad figure came timidly inside and stopped. His clerical collar and balding head identified him as a priest to most people. The cross around his neck gleamed against the black cloth of his jacket. He carried a case which he set on the edge of Becky's desk. He unsnapped it and raised the lid so he could reach inside.

"Sharon?" he queried.

Both girls pointed back to Sharon as she was seated and looking puzzled.

The priest straightened with a toothy, gentle smile and raised his medieval battle axe shoulder high and chopped into Becky's neck before she could react. He ducked expertly the spray of blood that painted the wall and ceiling. Lindsay turned to flee, but too slowly. The razor sharp, crescent blade crunched between her shoulders and she went face down on the carpet. The priest put his foot on her butt and wrested the axe out as she started to scream. Before she could gather her breath, the axe lopped off her head and sent it rolling among the extra desks. Her neck stub geysered a stream of blood that splattered against the desk where Sharon was crouching in the kneehole. Sharon found herself kneeling in a puddle of warm, red stickiness that was growing.

She waited trembling, expecting a hand to reach in and drag her out at any moment, but it didn"t happen. Curiosity overcame fear and she had to look out to see what was happening.

The priest had removed his shirt and collar and was hopping on one foot trying to remove his shoes so his pants would come off easier. He was getting totally naked and the way he was doing it would have been funnier had it not been for the growing red puddles belonging to her fellow workers.

Sharon knew she had to react and right now. There was a narrow path she might be able to negotiate to the front door. Once he was nude, there would be no escape for her. She saw the priest might be short, but he was very heavily muscled. She had no time to think it over.

Sharon leaped to her feet and started to run towards the front door, screaming as she went. His hand grabbed her blouse and it ripped somewhere, then she was free to run...until her foot slipped in the puddle Becky had left. Sharon gave a little scream and a moan as she fell onto Becky's still warm corpse. She put her hand down on the still leaking neck wound. Sharon rolled and awkwardly scrambled to her feet. The office door slammed behind her and she listened as she ran in case the door to opened again. Her high heels lasted about three steps and they came off or broke off. She just fled, looking for some place safe.

The front door of the office complex loomed ahead and she saw a shadowy form at the door. It was Bill, the security guard and he had just locked the door. It was 5:04 pm. He had turned and just settled on his stool where he checked the people exiting. He saw Sharon with the blouse half torn off and covered in blood, racing towards him. He did the only thing he knew to do...he fell off of his stool and banged himself pretty hard.

"B...Bill...L...let me out. Bill, he"s killed them all. They"re all dead and he chopped...Oh let me out, please!"

"Hang on. Just hold it a minute. Is there something wrong
You'll have to tell me what is going on. If there's a problem, I'm in charge and I'll handle it. C'mon with me and we'll just see what this is all about."

Bill took her by the arm and half towed her back to the office. He peered in the door cautiously and then opened it wide. There was a wet sticky spot on the carpet, but no bodies. There was no sign of the priest either. His clothes, the axe and the dead girls were all gone along with him. It was 5:14 pm.

Bill looked at the dark blue carpet where the blood had soaked in and become colorless. "Yo, somebody's gonna have to pay for cleaning up this...this sticky mess. Wha'd ya spill? Looks like pancake syrup 'er somethin!"