"I’m tellin’ ya, this smart-faced thing here is the spawn of Satan."
This sunny August Sunday morning is so nice. This day is Mike's only. He can do whatever he wants. He can do some work in the garden. Such a nice day, really—at least, it was right up to the point when Mike leaves the house, because the putrid smell of what he finds in his garden makes his stomach turn. Who has done such a disgusting, horrible thing? It wasn't Mike's recently adopted dog, was it?
Chris Burton is a Hungarian fiction author living in Budapest, specialising in short stories, novellas, and grammatical mistakes.
Drawn to dark tales from a young age, Chris began publishing his unsolicited creations in 2024, blending elements of horror, thriller, mystery, fantasy, sci-fi, weird fiction and grotesque, sometimes with traces of dark humour.
In everyday life, Chris works in the field of [REDACTED], has chronic insomnia, and experiences intrusive thoughts more frequently than what is considered a healthy amount by healthcare professionals. In his spare time, he runs his own horror-inspired alternative rock music project but respectfully refuses to share any other specific details.