These aren't the stories your mother told you.

No, these are the other stories.

Hunger.

Written by Daniel Wilcox,

narrated by Joseph Maudsley.

The warm, steady release of blood filtered from the gash on the side of his cheek.

He could taste the coppery moistness, feel the aching throb from where it had reached out to strike him.

Only moments ago, the cold decaying flesh of its hand had clawed his face.

Its teeth gnashing and clapping together as he backed into the corner of his very own study.

The place where had spent his days tapping at the keyboard,

dragging the mouse to its various little white boxes of his sacred to-do list,

clicking to make that satisfying red check mark appear.

Tick.

Saliva joined the cocktail as he dribbled the liquid down his chin.

On the floor, next to his upturned desk, the thing lay upon a coil of wires and computer chips,

smashed to tiny pieces after Ben clasped at the table with a white knuckle grip and had thrown it in his last defense. By that point, the damage was already done.

The fingers of the creature had scratched, the teeth that the zombie had bitten.

Its growling snarl still reverberating in his head.

A strange sound that made him think of a dog and its haunchers that may also be choking on a bubbling

liquid.

A rabid human.

That's really what the creature was, though it would be much easier to call it by its conventional

...