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eBook Category: Horror/Science Fiction
eBook Description: Something Wicked magazine is a quarterly Horror and Science Fiction short story magazine. To date Something Wicked has published fiction by John Connolly, David De Beer, Evan Morris, Sarah Lotz, Brett Venter, Diane Awerbuck, Miranda Sherry, Digby C Young and Ryan Saunders to name but a few. Featuring art by some the best new artists around. Featured interviews have included John Connolly, Stephen King, Neil Gaiman, Ed Neumeier and Jolene Blalock. Issue 4 Cover by Jesca Marisa

CONTENTS
FICTION
Subtle Thief by C Hellisen, art by Vianne Venter
Liberation by Kevin Anderson, art by Vincent Sammy
An Eye For An Eye by Sarah Lotz, art by Pierre Smit
Half A Bottle of Rum by Nicole Strickland, art by Joe Doe
Justice by Bernadine Rogers, art by Jesca Marisa
Child by Gareth Robertson, art by Hendrik Gericke
Night Time is a-Coming by Werner Pretorius, art by Pierre Smit
Dreaming My Life Away by Brett Venter, art by Hendrik Gericke
Burnt by Caitlin Leigh, art by Kobus Faber
The Destination by Malcolm Cumming, art by Kobus Faber

FEATURES
Editor's Note
Interview with Ed Neumeier, by Joe Vaz
Writers Cornered by Vianne Venter
Film Fest to Die For by Paul Blom
The Crypt of Literary Treasures by Sarah Lotz
Disturbo 10 by Dominic Lee
Out & About
Book Reviews
Music Reviews
Games Reviews
Featured Artists' Gallery

eBook Publisher: Inkless Media, Published: August, 2007
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2008

6 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [1.2 MB] , ePub (EPUB) [2.1 MB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [732 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [4.3 MB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [155 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [2.1 MB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [208 KB] , hiebook (KML) [2.3 MB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [2.2 MB] , iSilo (PDB) [331 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [3.5 MB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [3.3 MB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [821 KB]
Words: 49381
Reading time: 141-197 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

By lunchtime we still haven't decided what to do. We're sitting round the kitchen table, watching our coffee get colder.

"I still think we should phone the cops," I say.

Kevin peers up at me blearily. He looks worse than usual. His face is sweaty and haggard; his eyes red-rimmed. The fag he's trying to smoke jitters in his trembling fingers. Since we made our grisly discovery this morning, he's puffed his way through at least half a pack of Camels.

"Did you hear me, Kev?"

"Sam, you can't be fucking serious," he groans. "You know we can't call the cops."

"Yeah, but Kev--"

"I can just see you now," he purses his lips, which he always does when he's imitating me. "Hello officer," he says in a falsetto voice, "Thanks for coming so soon, officer. Oh, and by the way, please ignore the six hundred dope plants in the spare room while you're here." He stubs his cigarette out on the top of a discarded can of Black Label.

"Okay, okay. Very funny." I pause for a second. I lick my finger and smear one of his tubes of dropped ash into an 'X'. "But where could it have come from, Kev? How could it have got here?"

"God knows." He burps, and I'm hit with a sickening blast of last night's alcohol.

"Nice, Kev," I snap.

"Sorry, man."

"Look. There're only two of us in the flat," I say, picking up his Zippo and flicking it into action. "One of us must've put it there. How could it have got there otherwise?"

"Well don't look at me," he says. "I was completely wasted last night. Hey ... maybe the flat's haunted, Sam. That would be cool, eh?"

"Kev, this is serious. I swear to God, sometimes I can't believe we're actually related."

He flicks his fingers in front of his face like a talk show diva and says, "Whatever!"

I look at him in disbelief. I can't believe he's not freaked out by this.

"Maybe you should go back in there and make sure it's real," I say abruptly.

"You what? My head's killing me!"

"Think about it, Kev. Maybe it was a whatdoyoucallit--a hallucination!"

"Why should I go?" he says. "Why not you?"

"You're the eldest, that's why. And you're a boy." Albeit a thirty-year-old boy who reeks of whiskey sweat and stale dope.

"Sexist!"

"Yeah, well--It was you that got us mixed up with VeeJay and the dope, so it's your fault we can't call the cops."

I sit back. Kevin snatches his lighter back and automatically fires up another cigarette.

"Jislaik, Sam. Do I have to?" he whines. "I'm not well."

"Go and check, Kev. Don't be such a pussy." I fold my arms across my chest and give him one of my stares.

He sighs, chucks his fag in the full coffee cup and hauls himself to his feet.

I follow him at a safe distance. As we head down the corridor towards the tiny bathroom there's a click as the timer switches on and the hydroponics flare into action. The too-bright light seeps from under the spare room door, and the corridor is bathed in an eerie, unnatural glow. In contrast, the entrance to the bathroom seems densely dark and creepy, and I'm glad it's not me who's going in there. I shudder. This doesn't seem to bother Kevin, though. He switches on the light and staggers into the tiny toilet cubicle. Leaning a grubby hand on the wall, he peers into the toilet bowl.

"Man, that is seriously gross," he says.

"Well?" I say, still keeping my distance. "Is it still there?"

"'Course it fucking is."

"And is it what I think it is?"

"Yes, Sam," he sighs dramatically. "It's an eye all right."

"Is it real, though? I mean--could it be one of those trick ones or something?"

He picks up the toilet brush and gingerly pokes it into the toilet bowl.

"Looks real to me," he says.

"But it could be like from an animal or something, couldn't it?"

"Not really, Sam, no."

"Why's that then?"

He turns to face me, still holding the dripping toilet brush.

"Because it's blue," he says.