The Rock N' Roll Horror Zine

The Riffmaster General by Ben Fitts Lilith trembled as she plugged her Gibson Explorer into the massive Orange stack on the stage. Of course, her guitar wasn’t really made by Gibson and the amplifier wasn’t really made by Orange. They were just clones of the original brands. It was possible that those companies still existed back on Earth, but Lilith thought it was unlikely. Ever since the United Nations Of Earth ordered the exile of all metalheads from the planet, citing their presence as a danger to religious freedom and Christian values, the gear manufacturers must have been hit pretty hard. Lilith thought Fender was probably fine, though. The decision had no impact on indie rock bands or country singers. Everyone from the village was there watching her, sitting solemnly in their ceremonial patch jackets and bullet belts. She was able to make out her parents in the dim blue light shining on the audience. They sat front and center by the stage, as was customary fo...

It Just Sounds Better On Vinyl By Ben Fitts I’m very excited. I just got the new record by Capra Coven from Light Side Records downtown. I haven’t heard them yet but my friend Jack says these Englishmen are the best heavy metal band ever. He told me that they’re heavier than Venom, Bathory and Mercyful Fate all put together. As if that wasn’t enough of a selling point on its own, the local preacher came to our high school to warn us not to listen to Capra Coven. He said they were Satanists and would corrupt our innocent young minds. So like pretty much every other kid crammed into that gymnasium, my reaction was sign me up! I can’t wait to listen to it. I stare at the drawing of a severed goat head decorating album cover, then slip the black record out of its sleeve, place it on my turntable and drop the needle. The black vinyl spins and the needle traces its way through the grooves, but no music comes out. Instead a blood red finger reaches out from the twirli...

Daemonum By Richard Beauchamp “I don’t know man, the guy kinda spooks me honestly. I tried looking him up after I heard the demo reel. No social media, no previous band history.” Brett Aickman said as he faced his Engl half stack and tuned his guitar while his bandmates performed other various pre practice rituals. “Guy is a fuckin ghost. Look, if he kills it today and we decide to bring him on board we gotta talk to this guy about building an online presence.” He continued. “Who gives a fuck if the dude lives off the grid or something man, we go on tour in a week, and his vocal performance was one of the most insane things I’ve heard. I’ve heard brutal gutturals before and guys who can fry their highs out the ass, but this dude literally doesn’t even sound human. I love it. I’d give less of a shit if he was the fuckin’ zodiac killer. If he can bring that sound to the stage and keep us from having to cancel our CD release tour, then I’m sold.” John Cromwell said as he likewi...

Reality By Ben Fitts Charlie had to admit he was excited when the automated voice told him he was in a coma. He felt selfish for having that reaction; he would be leaving his girlfriend Helen and all his friends behind and he was unsure who would be able to run the rehabilitation clinic in his absence. No one else in current staff had the necessary leadership experience, and they did good work there. Still, he was unable to help the way he felt. “We wish you a speedy recovery from you condition,” the disembodied automated voice was telling him. He was disembodied as well, and all he could see around him was a field of white. “In the meantime, please enjoy the programmed comma sequence as specified in your will,” finished the voice. Charlie felt a grin on his face as he regained form. In truth, he never actually lost his form nor was the body he currently flexed truly his. His body was lying safely in a hospital bed, his brain hooked up to an immersive reality machine...