Horny Tales of Horned People

By Verse Atoui

Neha lives alone; no roommate, no partner, no parent or sibling shares her apartment. Yet, every morning, she finds that her items are in different locations than she remembers. As if someone... or something, has been moving them around.

Enoris was once known as the savior of these lands, a heroine worthy of legends, a warrior anyone should aspire to be like. Now she has cut all ties with society, choosing to live as a hermit in the middle of the woods. She rejects all and any attempt to befriend her... but when a stranger comes at her doorstep asking for shelter from the rain, she cannot deny them this simple kindness.

Akenaos made a deal with the devil: a helping hand to defeat the demon king, in exchange for her soul. Today, the devil's part of the bargain has been fulfilled. What of her own?


HORNY TALES OF HORNED PEOPLE* features three unrelated short paranormal romances.

*Note: does not feature horny tales. Does not feature horned people either.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Verse Atoui
• Release date: Feb 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215365397

Verse Atoui

Verse Atoui (they/them) is an author with a knack for obscure Carolingian myths and a deep love for the monstrous.

Book preview

The One From Carcosa

ONE

I jolt awake to a sharp, high-pitched sound.

Vaguely, I hear the distant sound of a voice, but the grogginess prevents me from processing the words. I scramble to raise on my elbows, my hands failing to properly grasp the sheets once, twice, my fine motor skills still within Morpheus’s sweet embrace. I blink frantically, trying to chase sleep out of me. No light seeps through the windows. I can’t hear any birds outside. What time is it?

As I properly sit up, I hear footsteps coming closer. I close my eyes and bravely attempt to rub the sleepiness away, when I feel fingers threading through my hair.

Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up, an earth-deep voice speaks. A large palm sets on my forehead, then slides down, pushing my hands away, then closing my eyes again. The skin feels smooth like velvet. I sigh in contentment as I lean into the touch. It’s nothing. A warm breath, softness at my temple in the gentlest of kisses. The hand moves to my shoulder and guides me back laying down. Go back to sleep. I’ll handle it. It’s alright.

I nod weakly, curling onto myself as the blanket is pulled over me. If it’s handled, then it’s handled. I doze off once more, warm and content.

It’s only several hours later, when I wake up for the second time, that I remember that I live alone.

TWO

There are stains in my kitchen.

Right there. On the floor. Dark red tracing the vague outline of a left foot. It’s too much to be sauce that would have dripped down a pan, and too little to be mud dragged from the outside.

I crouch down near the stain. The smell reminds me of my periods.

Of blood.

Huh.

I check my palms, my feet. I’m not hurt anywhere. I check the door. It’s been locked all night long. I check the windows. I’d closed them the night prior.

This is... puzzling. I’d assumed a wild animal had gotten in, but I don’t really see how one could have. Perhaps if it were a rat...?

Yeah, that’s probably it. I’ll buy some mouse traps later. For now I need to wipe this off.

THREE

I think I am forgetting things.

Things keep... getting misplaced, in my house.

It’s always small. It’s always so small I could very easily brush it off. But it happens often, often, often, often,

Dishes I don’t remember doing. Furniture just slightly displaced to the left. Papers in the wrong drawer. Novels out of order on my shelf. Often, often, often, and I can’t remember,

I had two mugs. A plain blue one, and one with little fish patterns. I can only find the second one. I found shards of blue porcelain in my trash can. I don’t remember breaking it. I don’t remember.

I’ve started keeping a diary, to keep track of what I’ve done, of where I put things. I double check everything I write in there. I folded my clothes today. Did I write that I folded my clothes today? Yes, I did write that I folded my clothes today.

The next day rolls in. I find one of my shirts on the back of a chair.

I think I’m losing my mind.

FOUR

I wake up to the sound of a door slammed shut.

My heart is too loud in my chest. Bam. Bam. Bam. I roll onto my side with a groan, eyes still closed. Nope, too early, not waking up. Bam. Bam. Bam. Nope. Don’t care.

I try to focus on slowing down my breathing, slowing that incredibly loud heartbeat. In, out. Breathe. Bam. Bam. In. Out. Breathe. Bam. Bam. My heartbeat does not get any quieter.

Bam. Bam.

My eyes snap open.

This... is not my heartbeat.

These are footsteps.

I go completely still.

Bam. Bam. Right there. Behind my door. Something... someone is walking. Bam. Bam. Someone huge. I can hear the weight in each of their steps.

I instinctively curl into a ball, draw the cover above my head. What do I do? What do I do? There is someone in my house. I’m in my pajamas. I don’t have anything that could even remotely be used as a weapon. What do I do??

Bam. Bam. Bam.

My phone. I- I need my phone. I need to call the police.

I poke my head out of the cover. I left it on the bedside table before going to sleep. I