Death in the Sunset

By Guy Riessen

IN DEATH IN THE Sunset, an ex-special forces soldier discovers the horrors of Afganistan have followed him home.

Will his repressed memories revive in time to redeem himself and save a San Francisco ravaged by sacrifical-style murders?

A modern Mythos Short Story of 4,624 words

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Obelisk Publishing
• Release date: Jan 9, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386125303

Guy Riessen

Guy Riessen is an American author of contemporary dark fiction spanning the science fiction, horror, fantasy and crime genres. Born in 1967 in South Dakota, he grew up in the Southern California beach town of Huntington Beach. He moved to the San Francisco Bay Area in 1985, graduated with a degree in English from UC Berkeley, and has been living in the wild lands north of San Francisco ever since. After nearly two decades of creating artwork in the visual effects industry for feature films, he returned to his first passion: writing speculative fiction. His Facebook page can be found at https://www.facebook.com/GuyRiessen

Book preview

Jimmy was a small man, in stature and in dreams. He never asked for much because he never could see the bigger picture. He never planned further than the tallboy he could get after a couple hours working 9th and Irving in the Inner Sunset District. He was a wino, a bum living in a city of hipsters. A derelict, a member of the untouchable caste in a kingdom of tech execs and angel investors.

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Jimmy was dead.

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I hauled my ass off the barstool at O’Leary’s after last call. As I crossed the street, I could see Jimmy in his usual spot, tucked into the doorway of the wood flooring storefront. He had his cardboard down and was hunkered into the nice sleeping bag he got from St. Vincent De Paul’s. But something wasn’t right.

Awww shit, Jimmy.

His shoes sat next to his sleeping bag. Ain’t none of us leaves our shoes sitting out. He lay facing the store’s glass door, his back to the street.

Hey Jimmy? I said, knowing there’d be no answer.

I squatted down next to him, alcohol giving the sidewalk a slow spin and dulling the fear of what I might find. I reached out and shook his shoulder. He was already stiff and toppled toward me like an off-balance log in a fire.

My head spun with more than just the booze when I saw his face all cut up like that. I balled my