Thread: A Short Horror Story

By Steven Jenkins

A brand new drug has infected the streets.

Thread.

The first hit: a high unlike any other.

The second hit: the addiction takes hold.

The third hit: the sun starts to burn your skin. 

The last hit: you become one of the horde. A Junkie. A Monster. A Thread-Head. 

A Vampire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steven Jenkins
• Release date: Feb 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386118817

Steven Jenkins

Steven Jenkins is a San Francisco-based cultural critic whose writings on film, music, art, and literature appear in national periodicals, exhibition catalogues, and artist monographs. He is the author of City Slivers and Fresh Kills: The Films of Gordon Matta-Clark and Model Culture: James Casebere, Photographs 1975-1996.

Book preview

Thread

Thread

A Short Horror Story

Steven Jenkins

Contents

Free Books

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Free Books

Also Available - Blue Skin: Book One

Also Available - Blue Skin: Book Two

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About the Author

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For Vicky.

1

There’s blood on my shirt again. Third time this week.

I throw it into the washing basket and grab a clean one from the wardrobe.

Once I’m dressed, I walk over to the mirror. I prod the creases on my forehead in disgust, and glare at my vanishing hairline. Jesus Christ, I look old. Worse than Dad. And the bags under my eyes are getting darker, too, like I’ve taken a knee to the face.

Someone should invent a cream for stress.

I slip my pocket-knife into my boot, and then tie the laces. I’d lose my job if they knew I was carrying an extra weapon.

Oh, well. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.

I check the clock on the wall, and sigh in frustration.

Another hour.

I leave the bedroom, and make my way down to the kitchen.

There’s hardly any food in the fridge, so I microwave some tomato soup, and take the last slice of bread for dipping. Yesterday’s newspaper is on the table. I flick through it, even though I’ve read most of the articles. Drugs. Dodgy politicians. Celebrity horseshit. Nothing worth reading more than once. Where are all the nice stories? Why can’t there be something positive on the front page for a change? It’s always doom and fucking gloom.

Finishing my soup, I look over at the clock on the oven, and then leave to check on Fiona. She’s still sleeping. Teenagers.