The Rock N' Roll Horror Zine

Brittney the Loud By Matt Wall I played there, or should I say that I performed there, every night it seemed. Of course that isn’t exactly true, I played there, or performed there a couple night a week. Thursday and Saturday. Every week. I was there without fail. If one of the weekly acts got sick or couldn’t make it, I would show up, guitar in hand and ready to belt out my songs at the top of my lungs. I was, without fail, the thing that kept that little shit-hole going. I would have been happy with my arrangement with the bar for the rest of my life. I really would have. The problem that faced me was this one woman. She was there every night I performed. She would sit dead center in the room, just a few feet away from the low rise stage. As soon as I would start playing, she would begin to talk in a loud voice, practically shouting. Those shouts would turn into laughter. Her laughter was just despicable. I always scared the room when this would happen and I never saw ...

Music of the Dead By Matthew Wilson Mom didn’t want me to go to the concert, not after the murders but I was fourteen now and had sold my comics to afford the ticket.      The old bat was uncool, so I waited till her bedroom light went off before I clambered down the drain pipe like a clumsy monkey and kept to the shadows along the lawn. At school tomorrow I would be the cool kid who'd listen to the rock god live.      Hell, I would say we'd become best friends if it made me more popular.      The armed guard at the gate looked ready to throw me off a cliff as if my ticket were made of crayon streaked paper but I smiled and bided my time and reluctantly he stepped aside. The crypt of Shadows came on stage with their intestine string guitars at midnight. The pained howls of the crucified men around them were a fine backup chorus.      Beneath the ugly red stars the fle...

That Time I Hung Out With Mötley Crüe By Frank Edler I lived some prime years of my life through the decadent age of hard rock and heavy metal that dominated the music landscape in the 1980's. It was an incredible time. The music was loud, the clothing was loud and the hair went all the way to 11. Anything worth doing was worth overdoing. I followed those bands with the big hair and the black leather and the flashy guitars like they were a religion. I bought the rock magazines and studied the articles. I tore the glossy photos from the rags and plastered the walls of my bedroom with them. I bought cheap mall knockoff rock star clothing and frequented every local music store dreaming of the day I would be able to afford a sexy looking $700 guitar that would make women melt without even playing a single note. My dedication to the music, the bands and the scene led me on many great adventures. I frequently sought out the bands when they were in town. I would stalk their tour b...

Planet Of The Elvises By Ben Fitts “We’re picking up signs of life on the planet’s surface.” Heather forgot to breathe for a moment as she heard those words. They had finally done it. “Alright, let’s land,” she instructed. Tom, the ship’s pilot, nodded and adjusted a series of knobs, dipping the spaceship towards the planet. Many had doubted the life detecting technology when it was first developed, claiming that it had been built essentially to detect terrestrial life and that there was no guarantee that it would be able to detect the alien life forms it was invented to find. The critics stated that the technology relied primarily on thermal signals consistent with life on Earth and that it was unlikely that extraterrestrial life forms would give off the needed signals. A government funded mission to find alien life almost thirty years earlier that had not only been unsuccessful but also vanished without a trace had not helped to quiet the detractors, but eviden...