Author: Lee Andrew Forman

Lee Forman is a writer and editor from the Hudson Valley, NY. His fascination with the macabre began in childhood, watching old movies and reading everything he could get his hands on. He’s a third-generation horror fanatic, starting with his grandfather who was a fan of the classic Hollywood Monsters. His work has been published in numerous magazines, anthologies, websites, and podcasts. He’s an editor for Sirens Call Publications and writes, edits, and is an administrator for the horror fiction website PenoftheDamned.com. He’s also a regular contributor of non-fiction articles for Living Paranormal Magazine. When he’s not crafting horrifying creatures and tales of terror, he spends his time playing guitar and writing music. For more information and a list of publications go to www.leeformanauthor.com.

The Stray

November 5, 2025October 12, 2025 ~ Lee Andrew Forman ~ 3 Comments

The scent of rot permeated the air; I knew I was close. I could almost taste the stench. I took each step with care—silence was essential. My eyes searched the darkness between the trees, looked for any sign of its bodily form. I tried to keep my imaginings to nil, as I didn’t want to spoil my initial reaction when my eyes finally witnessed its flesh. I wanted to see the dream for what it was, not for what it could be.

Movement in the brush ahead halted my breath. I listened to the silence that followed with fierce intent. The musky air thickened. But I heard no steps approach.

My heart pounded with a concoction of fear and excitement. I’d been hunting this legend since I was a boy. Those tales told around a fire, or with a few drinks—they stuck with me. They unraveled my focus on all other things. This was what I lived for. To find out what it really was.

Local lore said it might have once been human, an orphan raised by the wilderness. Others said it might be nature herself, risen from the earth to take vengeance upon anyone it could. No matter its origin, the stories said it traveled on all fours, and its nature was vicious and feral. If you think it’s close, it’s already too late. That’s how the stories always ended.

A release of breath shattered the silent night. It was hot against the back of my neck. I slowly turned to see what I yearned so badly for. My eyes went wide and took in all the moonlight had to offer. She towered above me, bare-breasted and malformed beyond description—an amalgam of evolutionary paths borrowed from a dozen species. But aside from her eyes and nose, her face was close to human.

She stared down at me as she reared up on her hind legs and let out an animalistic vocalization of aggression. I put my palms up and backed away a step to show I wasn’t a threat. She returned to four legs on the ground, her face now level with mine.

She approached, seemingly curious, and sniffed about my shirt collar. Her smell was so awful I could barely breathe. But I was content in that moment. I finally found what I was looking for. A smile spread across my lips as she ran her tongue along my neck.

Then the pain of her teeth sunk in. I heard the rending of my flesh in her mouth as it was torn from my neck. Agony, shock, disbelief, all surged through me in crashing waves. Her front leg pinned me to the ground. My ribs audibly broke beneath the weight.

Gasping for breath and drowning in my own blood, I struggled to gaze upon her one last time before she feasted on my body.

∼ Lee Andrew Forman

Natural Inhumation

September 24, 2025September 20, 2025 ~ Lee Andrew Forman ~ 4 Comments

The rolling landscape extended beyond sight in all directions. The emptiness engulfed me in insignificance. This dead world I found myself on was as lonely as I. The howl of the constant wind was my only companion, and this planet was accompanied by a dying star that would one day stop sharing its warmth.

Tumultuous rumbles shook the ground. My compass pinned it south, so I headed north, away from whatever force caused the terrifying shakes. My footprints were swiftly erased by the constant gusts of sandy air. I mentally weighed how I might find my way back to the ship if I went too far, but disregarded those thoughts when I remembered there would be no reason to go back. It was irreparably damaged. I was stranded with no hope of rescue.

I knew this place was where my journey ended. Somewhere on this barren world my corpse would lay with no one to bury it. The distress call would eventually reach home, but by the time it did, it wouldn’t matter—the flesh will have rotted from my bones.

I almost wished for a crack in my visor, a tear in my suit, then at least the scythe would greet me with haste. But I had plenty of oxygen, I’d waste away before I suffocated.

I looked behind me every time the ground quaked. Despite my walking in the opposite direction, the vibration grew stronger. I could feel a violent power in the distance, something I didn’t want to be near. I supposed it didn’t matter, I’d meet my end here one way or another. But fear is the great motivator, it pushes one to survive even when there is no hope to be had. So I walked on.

Soon, daylight receded and the vast abyss of unreachable stars yawned above. I’d never felt so desolate and alone, never so meaningless and fleeting. Madness crept into my skull and began wrapping its fingers around my fading mind. Logic and training would soon fail me, I’d watch them fall with relief. They served me no more, not in this cursed place.

The next quake hit with ferocious tremors, its origin no longer beyond sight. The ground opened in front of me, sand poured in as the hole grew larger. Terror struck and slunk behind by back like the coward I was, fear wouldn’t even allow me to run.

As the sand began to move beneath my feet, I welcomed the swifter ending it would bring. This world would consume me. At least my miserable corpse would be buried after all.

∼ Lee Andrew Forman

Benny

July 9, 2025February 18, 2025 ~ Lee Andrew Forman ~ 3 Comments

He stared at the photograph atop the fireplace mantle, the faces of his dear family. No joy rested on their lips, except for little Nicole. Her grin made his lips curl. Such a happy child; his niece was ever bright-eyed and full of pep.

Such a drab outfit for sunny weather, he thought, inspecting his attire—a stark contrast to the shade of everyone else’s fashion. But he supposed that was normal. Benny knew he was a dark splotch of spilled ink on the family tree. Everyone did. But they loved him anyway.

Tears came from the kitchen and he followed their somber melody. There sat his beloved sister, clutching the knit hat she made him last Christmas. The rest of the family milled about, releasing their own grief. It surprised him to see them dressed like himself—fit for a funeral.

His crying sister looked up to Mother. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

∼ Lee Andrew Forman

Clutch

April 23, 2025January 31, 2025 ~ Lee Andrew Forman ~ 2 Comments

A hairline crack starts along the side—one of many. It branches out in fractal patterns; the shell begins to split. Where fractures spread, a layer of mucus thins as it’s pulled apart by the breach. Tiny claws puncture the soft membrane and its mewling escapes into the air for the first time.

This newborn pulls itself out of the egg from which it hatched and looks upon the unborn. Its head pivots left and right, pointedly observing the rest of the clutch. It then feels something new, a deep wanting within its belly.

Predatory eyes see heat radiating from thin shells. Its mouth waters with instinctual preparedness. One hesitant step forward leads to the increasing urge to feed, which it follows without restraint. It sniffs its brethren as its eyes widen with elation. One by one, it tears each spawn open and feasts upon their new, unrisen flesh.

∼ Lee Andrew Forman

Greenwood

February 5, 2025January 31, 2025 ~ Lee Andrew Forman ~ 2 Comments

Breaths came heavy, carrying the wretched scent of sulfur. Steam puffed with each exhale into the clear night. Its fur stood on end, instinct raging with its pounding heart. It went from crouching on all fours to standing tall among the trees in its forest domain. Its eyes went black to absorb all light, and it hunted as it was meant to hunt.

It stealthily advanced toward the stench of its prey. Its mortal enemy was not much different than itself; tall, thick-haired, and rippled with strong muscle, but their smell was too offensive with which to exist. Its kind couldn’t be allowed to share those woods.

As the rancid odor filled its nostrils, it picked up pace; its massive legs lumbered between trees and through thick bushes. Leaves rustled ahead as the hunted beast chose flight. The hunter could barely stand the rank air it was forced to run through. The prey was nearly within sight.

With all its strength it pushed with both feet and leapt above what it intended to kill. Branches swayed with its powerful movement as it descended from above to tackle the frightened prey to the ground.

The unfortunate loser of the chase succumbed to fear and could barely fight back as the hunter slammed its giant fists down on its face. Its body convulsed as broken fragments of skull were mashed into its brain. A roar of fury erupted from the hunter in the otherwise quiet forest as it continued to pound its enemy’s head to pulp.

∼ Lee Andrew Forman

Scrabbles

December 11, 2024November 21, 2024 ~ Lee Andrew Forman ~ 4 Comments

I hear it inside the walls. The scratching travels up and down, room to room, and I follow with ravenous curiosity. Lines in black marker sprawl across my apartment, tracking the paths it takes. They’ve begun to overlap.

Little gifts it leaves, but always when I’m not looking. I’ve yet to glimpse its form. I once tried, strained my eyes to remain open as long as they could. But eventually they grew heavy and took me to darkness. When I woke, a single tooth lay before me. I searched my mouth with a finger and found the gap.

I no longer wonder where the gifts come from.

I wish to meet my little friend, and the thought occurs—what if I leave an offering in return?

What might satisfy it? Show it I mean no harm, and only want to know my secret companion? I think on this a while, picking at a scab on my head, until the answer is revealed by an inner revelation.

I run to the kitchen, open a drawer, and take out what I need. It likes parts, as shown by the prized collection I’ve gathered on a shelf. And what better part than to show it I want to see?

I take the spoon, place the lip below my lower eyelid, and pray it will suffice.

∼ Lee Andrew Forman

Brain Box

September 11, 2024August 5, 2024 ~ Lee Andrew Forman ~ 4 Comments

The tendrils, that’s what Jimmy called ‘em. They got hold of his mind and reached in real far. Slithering, he called it. He said they pulled out something from deep inside, something he never could’ve reached on his own.

Oh, he fought it. That I know. Pills, powder, it didn’t matter. As long as it ‘altered his natural state’ he said, it was fine by him. But it was never enough. Reality was too bent for him to see straight, so crooked was the only way to be. That was the only thing that made sense to him. He said when reality became thought, and thought, reality, he couldn’t tell which was which. And when Jimmy’s mind was in a jumble, so was everything around him. I saw things fly off the shelves when he got upset, furniture jumped around the room when he was mad. Never saw nothing like it before. He just couldn’t control it.

When the walls closed in on poor old Jimmy, they really closed in. I think he lived his whole life in fear. I know I would if I had to live with that kind of…condition. Yes, I seen it myself. That run-down old trailer-home of his, crumpled up like a soda can. Poor bastard worried himself to death.

∼ Lee Andrew Forman

Room 57

June 12, 2024May 27, 2024 ~ Lee Andrew Forman ~ 3 Comments

Adorned with only a simple handle and the number 57, the door stood closed. I stared at it for some time, eyes darting between the numerals and brass knob. It was one among many in this seemingly endless hall, but it garnered my interest more than any other. I couldn’t say why. The reason was just as much a mystery as what was behind that door.

Sweat dripped down my brow as I contemplated opening it. I feared I might be caught, only more reason for them to keep me here… But my curiosity outweighed my worries. I reached for the handle and turned it.

I was surprised it wasn’t locked. Maybe there was nothing there to behold other than an empty room. The darkness seemed to ebb from the small sliver between the door and frame. I pushed it all the way, only to see more darkness. The light from the hallway couldn’t travel beyond that threshold. It was as if the room itself pushed it away.

I had to know what was in there, so I stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind me, leaving me sightless. “Hello?” I called out.

Heavy breathing was the only reply.

Then the sound of dripping.

A rancid stench assaulted my nose as I felt warm breath on my face. Then agony as unseen teeth tore away at my flesh.

∼ Lee Andrew Forman

Dark Spots

March 6, 2024February 22, 2024 ~ Lee Andrew Forman ~ 3 Comments

The air hummed a pregnant note. My very bones resonated with its energy. The dark went silent; insects stopped their nocturnal chatter, leaves hushed their low whisper in the vacant breeze, even my footfalls went mute in the grass. Within my chest, my heart rattled with a thunderous beat. Sudden light bloomed from above – the field below glowed with unimaginable hues.

My gaze was drawn skyward to a bulbous horror that hovered there. Its luminous glare nearly stole my sight. As it began its descent, a sound thrummed from its underbelly forcing my limp frame to the ground. Sudden vertigo whipped my head to the left as my body rose to meet the flashing sphere. I was paralyzed; not a muscle would obey my instincts.

The fierce light ceased and darkness subsumed all. I lay there motionless, not falling nor rising, suspended by a force unknown.

A red glow crept over the black shapeless space. From a square opening came globular mounds of mishappen pink flesh. They stood atop countless tiny legs protruding from their undersides. Six half-moon shaped pincers attached to multi-limbed arms grew from their flanks. No head accompanied their sickly bodies, only a shifting ebon undulation where one might have rested. Their innumerable feet clicked as they approached.

The urge to scream slithered through my esophagus; a need to release fear in a frenzied cacophony. But I could make no sound at all.

Their insectile skittering raced beneath me as my body lowered toward them. As I got closer, their movement increased with fervor. Their sharp pincers brushed against my hands. Unable to pull away, I could do nothing to stem my torrid panic.

Lowered to a solid surface, they crawled over my body in ordered chaos—searching for what, I did not know. They poked and prodded, picked at my clothes with their spiny appendages. They seemed to sniff me with their rippling dark spots. I thought for sure their intent had been to feast, but they never split flesh.

A pounding came from beyond the dark threshold that shook the floor. The massive form reared to its full height as it entered the chamber. I understood why the small ones hadn’t eaten me. The juggernaut stood ten times their size, and where the little ones’ dark spot had been, colossal mandibles chomped and drooled their way toward me.

∼ Lee Andrew Forman

Snowflake

December 13, 2023October 20, 2023 ~ Lee Andrew Forman ~ 2 Comments

Infinite snowflakes fall. Their pearl quilt builds upon pavement, tires tread, nerves tense. Sweaty palms grip the wheel. The picturesque wonderland glows in the headlights. Slow and steady, the destination of holiday cheer, of most special kin. The journey swerves upon beautiful danger. She tries to match the pitch and right the car. But nature draws her to its hold without release. As she watches the trees flip upside-down, the rose-colored box travels before her eyes, ejected from its place on the empty passenger seat. As metal crunches and glass shatters, she hopes that gift will reach her little Snowflake.

∼ Lee Andrew Forman