Zombie Zak’s House of Pain – An Open Anthology Submission

The Library of Horror presents –

Zombie Zak’s House of Pain : Tales of Dark Horror

Edited by Zombie Zak and Bill Tucker

Seeking previously unpublished contemporary creative tales of dark horror/dark fiction to fill up the House of Pain

Not seeking zombie stories

The details:

Word count is 3k to 7k
No headers or page numbers
Single spaced – otherwise follow the Shunn rules

Please put your name, address, email, phone number and approximate word count on the title page.

No multiple or simultaneous submissions please

All submissions must be received on or before April 30, 2011

Send submissions to zzhopantho@gmail.com

Payment is 1 cent per word and 1 contributor copy

Now get on your graves and write!



Welcome to my House of Pain!
You’re life I’m sure to drain.
You’ll scream and shout,
You’ll fall all about,
You’ll smash my walls,
You’re going to fall,
Trying to just get out;
Welcome back to my House of Pain.

And in this little corner
We have Maggie Horner.
She was such a nice young lass,
With a graceful selection of class.
It was such a shame about the boys
She liked dismembering their toys
Now her blades are all sharp and wet;
I certainly wouldn’t want to take her bet.



Welcome to my House of Pain!
Life is drowned in bloody rain.
There is no reason left to cry
You are all just going to die
Somewhere in this house
You, and possibly your spouse
By one means or another;
Welcome back to my House of Pain.

On the porch, we have Bobbie McReedy
He’s always been fiery and a little needy.
He’ll always be a child
Whipped up and wild.
Fire is his bestest friend
It’s with him wherever he ends.
Even on the porch, with his favourite torch
Burning the timeless moments away.



Welcome to my House of Pain!
The gnomes know your name.
It fits with their vicious games;
And everything else about
Is crying, screaming out
Waiting for doors to close
Through halls full of prose.
Misty coloured memories stain the walls.

And in the garden, we have Liz Harden
She’s a feisty young chic
With a head full sick
Inclined as she is
To the twisted biz;
LIkes to make cuts
To young boys guts
And splatter them on the petunias.



Welcome to my House of Pain!
Come with me, play my game.
It’s fun and full of prizes pretty
Survival, is the game this, I name.
Neither rhyme nor reason plain
Will save you if you don’t behave.
I’m sure some of you might disagree
But if not, there’s always round two or ten!

On the roof, a young lad named Todd
Fairly fit and able, but completely odd.
With a cry of derision, a voice so loud
Sudden abandon, descends from a cloud.
Painful things that he likes to throw,
Something harsh, covered in phlegm.
Sticks and stones will break your bones
But Todd just wants to munch on them…


Feb 14/2011

Welcome to my House of Pain!
I cherish these moments again and again.
Such simple pleasures easily devised
Of twisted moments and terrors that abide.
If it’s not one thing, then it’s definitely another
I’ve got sister vs sister, brother against brother.
Every hand that turns against one, or the rest
Is the evil villainy, that I enjoy the best.

In the basement, there sits poor little Tommy.
He was always a bedraggled son of a gun.
His parents abandoned him to feed a tiger,
But Tommy was smarter; he plotted and he hid,
Getting the creature to do as he was want to bid.
Blood was splattered everywhere, on everything
And nobody ever doubted what Tommy could do
Seeing as he was now the tiger, the tiger king.


Feb 21/2011

Welcome to my House of Pain!
We have many things contained
Within these many walls and windows
Brackets of life and thimbles, stretched
Drying upon the brambles of the living.
Books of souls bound, decaying slowly
The thought of such torture spry and delightful
Each a testament to something insightful.

In the closet, we have Judy the Jury.
She’s ever been fascinated with law,
Ever since she discovered her flaw:
That even with a knife or a hammer
Flesh so easily is parted from bone.
Now she spends her time searching
For those unworthy law breakers
So that she can send them to their makers.



Welcome to my House of Pain!
Things are never quite as simple as they seem.
Fantastic things that live in each fastening and beam
The souls that are trapped, they’re so much a scream.
By cross and gable, by sword and table enshrined
They’re all here, all those twisted souls consigned,
Their fates are worse than a passing fanciful jest
And their torture is certainly some of our best!

Tis in the attic, that we find, surrounded by static,
Our lovely gentleman friend, known as Benjamin.
He, being of the gentle and silent disposition
Sometimes action advisor to many an inquisition.
His want most often of late, to be left alone to pray
To the devilish fiends that he tries to keep at bay.
In the end, he got his wish for something evil to play;
He summoned the thing, and now it wears his skin.


2 Responses to ZZHOP

  1. I bring to you the holy sacrament of Toll-house cookies. Nice job setting up your web presence. I’m linking you to my site. Writers supporting writers are the best cookies of all.
    Dave Benneman AKA Eerie Dwarf

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