The Mortuary Fly: A Short Story

By Renna Olsen

Steven Denny, a talented meth cook, travels to a forlorn cemetery to hide a package of drugs meant to be picked up later by his business partners. When he arrives at the location, he is confronted by a vengeful group of outlaw bikers who will stop at nothing to reacquire the previous drug shipment which had mysteriously disappeared. Denny's life hangs in a precarious balance, suspended between a ruthless gang of criminals and a nameless evil inadvertently unleashed by the callous and wicked actions of a few. Only one thing is certain about the dark and bloody events of this night, that there will be a reckoning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renna Olsen
• Release date: Apr 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310271762

Renna Olsen

The Litzophreniacs3 is a trio of authors and family members collaboratively writing primarily science fiction, horror and paranormal thrillers. With mother Nancy, son Eric and daughter Anne, the Litzos as we like to call ourselves, have finished multiple books and are working on new projects. We write under the pen name Renna Olsen.

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The Mortuary Fly

A Short Story

By Renna Olsen

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses,

places, events and incidents are either

the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events

is purely coincidental.

©2013, litzophreniacs3, LLC.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, the please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Published by Litzophreniacs3. LLC at Smashwords

October 7, 2013 - Somewhere in rural Morton County, Oregon.

The crystal meth Steven Chef Denny had smoked earlier that evening continued to burn a hole through his brain like some loose ember from the devil’s hearth.

His van was a filthy mess of fast food wrappers, cigarette butts, and encrusted garments. The driver was just as filthy as his ride. One look at Denny showed a dangerously thin guy with a face covered in meth sores, a beak of a nose and a mouthful of corroding teeth. His greasy dark hair swept back from an aggressively receding hairline and he had secured it into a long braid. A gamy chemical stench oozed from his pores along with a dark and oily sweat.

A freshly boosted car stereo blasted an Americanized version of the Norwegian Black Metal he so dearly loved. They were a Portland band called The Nephilim and, only a few hours earlier, he had been fully thrashing at their show at the Bacchanalia Ballroom. The