The Scary Salad Eater (11/12/2024)

Introduction

Welcome to the very first issue of The Scary Salad Eater, our exclusive grindhouse magazine. Read on to catch a glimpse into your future with our "Horrorscope." Learn to mix a terrifying concoction with Creepy Linguine's Spooky Cocktail corner. Check out our featured Salad Siren- a real knockout named Cherry Tomato (just don't stare or you might end up in her next lasagna). Finally, we're excited to share two original horror stories- Stop Whining and Next Door Dogs.

Enjoy!

Horrorscope

Aries (March 21 - April 19)

Never one to back down from a challenge, eh, Aries? This month such boldness might lead you straight into your impending doom. I mean, it likely will no matter what you do, but heed my advice. The full moon on the horizon? It’s drawing the werewolf nearby that’s drawn to your fierce energy. Your go-getter attitude will make you the gotten so be careful not to let your impulsiveness get the better of you. Keep silver close at hand.

Taurus (April 20 - May 20)

You’re steady, reliable, and sinfully in love with your creature comforts, Taurus. It’s too bad that October is going to fuck that all up for you. That thing you’ve been sensing in the shadows? It’s your doppleganger, Taurus. A perfect copy of yourself, lurking in the mirror, waiting for you to slip up so it can slip in. Your refusal to budge from routine is certainly cute, but sometimes even the most grounded souls need to be cautious of the threats hiding in plain sight. Watch for people (or things) imitating your every move. I highly recommend not sleeping for the duration of October if you value your life.

Gemini (May 21 - June 20)

Curiosity killed the cat, Gemini, and now it’s set its sights on you. Always looking for something new, you’re likely to find yourself poking around where you shouldn’t– whether it’s the murder house on the corner or inside an ancient book at the local library. Unfortunately, your playful energy is likely to awaken a demon this month, a bitter wraith that loves nothing more than wreaking havoc on chatty, inquisitive souls like you. Mistress Obsidian says mind your mischief or you’ll end up in a situation even your quick wit can’t escape.

Cancer (June 21 - July 22)

Cancer, Cancer, Cancer. Always seeking refuge in your own private little world. This month, the deep waters you’re used to navigating will begin to swallow you. Indeed, there is something beneath the surface that senses your emotional vulnerability; the Kraken. While you're hiding away in your cozy shell, don’t get too comfortable. It’s tentacles are long enough to reach even the safest harbors. I’d tell you to reach out to friends for support, but we all know that Kraken has already gotten to them first.

Leo (July 23 - August 22)

Leo, you snotty little center-of-attention, you. This month, you’ve drawn something dark to your spotlight. Beware the incubus–or succubus– who finds your charm irresistible. These seductive creatures thrive on attention and are waiting in the shadows to feed on your shine. Don’t let your guard down, especially when you think the crowd is cheering just for you. They’re not. Keep your ego in check this month or face the consequences.

Virgo (August 23 - September 22)

Virgo, my darling perfectionist, you. You’re always focused on the details. But this month is a real thorn on in your side; those tiny, seemingly insignificant details are bound to lead you straight into the arms of a vampire. They thrive on your meticulousness, you know, aware that you won’t see such obvious danger until it’s right in your face. Why, you’ll be too busy rearranging the bookshelves to notice the missing reflection in the mirror! Keep your garlic handy– and do remember that you simply can’t plan for everything.

Libra (September 23 - October 22)

Harmony might be your middle name, Libra, but October is here to knock you off-balance. Expect things to go missing, strange rappings at night, and general disarray in your home–courtesy of one particularly playful poltergeist. Your relentless pursuit of fairness and order will only egg this tyrant of a spirit on. So, go ahead. Embrace the mess for a change, and Mistress Obsidian will see you in November.

Scorpio (October 23 - November 21)

Scorpio, you’re no stranger to the darkness; you thrive in it. But this month, your comfort will lead you into danger. Quite literally, really. The Hat Man is watching you from the shadows, lurking in the edges of our dimension. Just don’t look too closely at that dark corner…you might  find he’s made more of you than you know. So don’t invite something in that you can’t control…

Sagittarius (November 22 - December 21)

You're a born adventurer, Sagittarius, always looking for your next thrill. But this October, your wanderlust may lead you straight into a horde of zombies almost as dimwitted as you are. Your quick legs might save you, but remember — not every adventure needs to be a life-or-death experience. Stay alert, especially on those nighttime hikes through creepy woods. And don’t get cocky; sometimes, the monsters move faster than you think. Pack your bow and arrows (and maybe a little common sense) if you plan to survive this one.

Capricorn (December 22 - January 19)

Capricorn, you’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately, and it's starting to show. Careful, you know. You might start getting wrinkles (or make those unsightly fine lines of yours worse.)Yes, in the dim light of your exhaustion, something tall, thin, and faceless is watching you — the Slenderman. He feeds on stress and overwork, and you've been providing him with plenty of both. Take a break before this malevolent figure pulls you deeper into his web of despair. Remember, no amount of success is worth losing your soul to a faceless entity. Get some rest before the shadows grow too long.

Aquarius (January 20 - February 18)

Your mind is a fascinating place, Aquarius — so fascinating, in fact, that something Lovecraftian is starting to take notice. This month, be careful of overthinking things. Your brilliant ideas could accidentally open up portals to other dimensions, and you never know what tentacled horror might slip through. While it's great to be inventive, keep one foot grounded in reality before you start drawing the eldritch symbols on your walls. Some knowledge is better left unexplored.

Pisces (February 19 - March 20)

Pisces, you're already in tune with the spirit world, but this October, your psychic senses are in overdrive. Ghosts are drawn to your empathy, seeking comfort, but not all of them mean well. Be wary of welcoming every lost soul into your space, because one might be looking to take over more than just your time. Protect your energy, and remember that not all spirits are friendly — some are looking to drain your compassionate nature dry. Trust your intuition, but don’t let it lead you astray.

Creepy Linguine's Spooky Cocktail Corner

Ahh, darlings, it’s your girl Creepy Linguine here—The Devil’s Eldest Daughter, Mistress of Mayhem, and, of course, a world-renowned mixologist in all things wicked. Now, let me tell you something: after a long night of spreading delicious chaos and maybe just a tiny bit of carnage, I need something that hits harder than a deal with the devil, but with enough style to make even the darkest souls envious.

So behold, mortals and mischief-makers alike—I present to you my latest creation: Witch’s Blood Elixir. It's smooth as sin, sweet as forbidden fruit, and just the right amount of twisted to make you question your choices. But, let’s be real—if you’re taking drink advice from me, you’re already beyond salvation. Cheers to that!

This sultry elixir is the perfect drink for those nights when you want to dance with the darkness and look fabulous while doing it. Sip slowly, or chug—who am I to judge? After all, eternity is a long time, but this drink won’t last that long in your glass.

Ingredients:

•  2 oz black vodka

•  1 oz cranberry juice

•  1 oz pomegranate juice

•  ½ oz fresh lime juice

•  ½ oz grenadine

• Red sugar (for rimming the glass; you can make your own with a bit of food coloring and, of course, sugar)

  
  

Instructions:

1. Prepare the glass: Rim the edge of your glass with lime juice and dip it in red sugar to create a bloody effect around the rim.

2. Mix the elixir: In a shaker, combine the black vodka, cranberry juice, pomegranate juice, and lime juice. Shake with ice.

3. Create the blood effect: Pour the grenadine around the inside edges of the glass before adding the cocktail mix, so it drips down like blood.

4. Serve: Pour the shaken cocktail into the glass and enjoy the sinister, blood-red presentation!

   
   

Optional Garnish:

●     Gummy eyeballs or a skewered lychee "eyeball" for added creep

Featured Salad Siren- Cherry Tomato

Stop Whining (Short Story)

Susan sat in her kitchen, mindlessly shifting the clutter around the table. The old junk mail and dusty knick-knacks around the house had become her only friend, really. Well, that and the half-glass of Pinot Noir in her hand. Oh! And Mr. Fluffers. That old, reliable orange tabby, brisked himself about her ankles, rubbing against the worn yellow, ducks on her bathrobe. In their little ducky hands were scrub brushes, scouring their backs in soap from inside of their clawfoot bath tubs. Carl had gotten her Mr. Fluffers as an anniversary gift some years ago, and while the tabby was getting older, he was still decidedly full of pep.

And love for Susan. Whatever, odd battered love it was. She did feed him, after all.

The house smelled of stale air and dust. The clock read noon.

The phone on the table buzzed against the wood. It was Carl. Susan tightened her bathrobe, and sighed.

“Hello?”

“Susan, I need the rest of my tools from the garage. I told you last week and you said you’d drop them off on Tuesday. I need them for work! Why is it always a hassle with you?”

Carl’s voice was sharp. Like always.

“If you wanted them so badly, you should’ve taken them when you left!” she snapped, swirling the wine in her glass. A dead fly floated atop the red pool, and Susan flicked it out of the glass, struggling a few times as it refused to leave the rim. Finally, it landed somewhere in the distance.

“I’m not your Uber, Carl.”

Back and forth. Back and forth. Why, they were arguing just like old times! Carl’s voice was even grinding on her nerves! As was typical, the conversation ended with Carl hanging up. Susan tossed the device–a little too hard— onto the countertop. The wine bottle trembled in her hand as she helped herself to another glass. The buzzing of her phone a few feet away jolted her, a little Pinot Noir spilling onto the counter.

“Mom, can you PLEASE stop drunk-texting me about Dad? I’m busy with college. Maybe it’s time to move on, okay?”

It was Sarah.

“Excuse me for wanting to talk to my own daughter! Maybe if you visited once in awhile, I wouldn’t need to text you all the time.”

She took another gulp of wine, her face flushed with anger. Her texts went unread. Just like always.

Susan took a step towards the fridge, almost spilling over Mr. Fluffers, but no. Her reflexes when drunk had become that of a fumbling master, like a well-oiled clock with a screaming liver. Her vision swam a bit, moreso from tears than the crispness of the wine on her tongue, but it didn’t matter. The bottle of white fell into her hand, chilled, welcoming. She twisted the corkscrew, cursing when the bottle broke with a terse snap.

“Fantastic,” she muttered, a dish towel flailing in her hand as she wrapped the wound. A sharp pain shot through her fingers, but she wouldn’t call it unusual. Pain, after all, was life.

Just like always.

The blood, however, was behaving badly, continuing to gush through the cheerful ducks of the dish towel until their eyes glowed red. She lifted the towel, expecting a small cut, but instead, the wound had stretched, creeping up her wrist like an open seam.

“What the hell…”

She turned the tap back on, washing her hand under the cold water, but the skin continued to pull apart, unraveling like a cheap sweater. Her fingers bent at odd angles, bone glistening through the torn flesh. The air reeked of iron and sour wine.

Susan backed away from the sink, her heart in her throat. But then, the phone rang again. It was Carl. She hesitated, her fingers barely holding together as she answered.

“What do you want, Carl?”

“Susan, you’re always like this– you’re falling apart,” he said. His voice sounded as if he were sitting on the ocean floor.

The line crackled, and a voice that wasn’t Carl’s came through. It was cold, detached, bubbling with a hint of glee.

“You’ve been tearing yourself apart for years, Susan. It’s just now catching up with you. How does it feel?”

My…my God…it’s my own voice.

She looked down at her other hand. The skin was peeling away there, too, blood oozing from every pore. Her arms felt heavy, as if her bones were turning to wine-soaked mush inside her.

Frantic, she stumbled to the living room and dialed Sarah. The phone rang a few times before Susan picked up.

“S-Sarah, please, I need you! I’m…I’m falling apart!”

She sobbed into the phone, vaguely able to make out Susan’s voice over the distinct sound of wine pouring into a glass on the other end.

“Falling apart, Mom? You’ve been falling apart!”

The phone dropped from her hands, clattering against the cold tile of the kitchen floor. Her body began to sag, her limbs losing structure. She collapsed onto the couch, the fabric soaking up the dark liquid that now gushed from her veins, reeking of Pinot Noir. Her body was unraveling faster now, her skin turning into something more liquid than flesh, dripping onto the floor in thick, red puddles.

Her mind raced– this had to be some kind of nightmare. Certainly it was! But the pain was all too real.

She tried to scream, but her mouth dissolved into nothing. All that was left was the sound of the liquid red wine pouring from her veins and seeping into the carpet, her entire body reduced to a pool of dark crimson.

The phone rang one last time, jittering around the pool of wine. On the screen, Sarah’s name lit up.

Her voice was cheerful, apologetic, as the phone picked itself up, clicking the speaker mode on.

“Hey, Mom. Look..I’m sorry about earlier. I know things have been hard. I’m really stressed out, too. Maybe we can talk later?”

Next Door Dogs