Archive for 17 and Up

EP Flash: Pennywhistle


By Greg van Eekhout.
Read by Anna Eley.

“Piper,” I screamed, fumbling in my purse. Too late. He brought his pipe to his lips and blew a note that almost made my eyeglasses shatter. Over at the sandbox, Nathan rose to his feet. He started moving towards the man. All the children did.

Rated R. Contains graphic violence and disturbing images.

EP014: Tis the Season


By K.D. Wentworth
Read by Jonathon Sullivan.

It was Christmas Eve and that nasty, strung-out feeling of
anticipation clotted the air like a cheap deodorizer. I hate
Christmas the most–all that insincere, pious yap about “peace on
earth, goodwill towards men.” I was cruising down the
expressway, on my way back from dismantling an illegal manger
scene someone had erected at the river park, keeping an eye out
for graffiti, you know–“Where will _you_ spend eternity?” or
“Buddha lives!”–that kind of crap, spray-painted on underpasses
right where impressionable schoolchildren could see it. The last
rays of the setting sun were painting the highway a faint rose
when I spotted a broken-down van with the metal outline of a
stylized fish just above the back bumper. The short hairs
crawled up the back of my neck. Them fish guys have been some of
my worst busts.

Rated R. Contains strong religious themes, graphic violence, and aggressive Zen.

EP Flash: Friday Night Gods


By Josh Rountree.
Read by Stephen Eley.

Brodie approached the line of scrimmage and both sides
of the field erupted. The red-robed fans in the
visitor’s stands surged like a crimson wave, swaying
in unison as they began the Rite of Interception.
They stamped their feet against the aluminum
bleachers, chanting as they drew gleaming blades
across the bellies of countless doomed rattlesnakes.
Their blood spilled, the snakes were then hurled onto
the field. The rain of reptiles sounded like bacon
burning in a skillet as the animals protested their
own sacrifice.

EP010: The Girlfriends of Dorian Gray


By Gregory Frost.
Read by Stephen Eley.
All stories by Gregory Frost
All stories read by Stephen Eley.

For all that, his manners were impeccable. It wasn’t that he sat slobbering and gnashing, drawing attention to himself as some deranged Neanderthal with a fork might have done. No, he ate demurely, quietly, chatting with her, truly interested in what she had to say (or at least feigning interest so well that she would never notice the difference). Dinner with him lasted the entire evening. The courses came and went ‚Äî soups, hors-d’oeuvres, first course, main course, cheese course, desserts and coffee, liqueurs. She would not have noticed right away that he had eaten an extra course, or more than one dessert, or consumed an entire bottle of wine on his own and helped her with half of another. Simply, he ate. And ate. And ate. And ate.

Rated R. Contains explicit sex, cruelty, and immoral dining.

EP Flash: Ubiquitous


By Douglas Triggs.
Read by Stephen Eley.

The clicks and squeals in his head subsided. No one else could understand them except him. No one else could even hear them. But they’d always been there, ever since he could remember. They hadn’t meant anything at first, not until he was older, well into his teenage years. They said terrible things — disturbing things — but still he could ignore them, even if he didn’t dare tell anyone about them.

Rated R. Contains violent themes and images.

EP005: Snow Day


By Jennifer Pelland.
Read by Deborah Green.
All stories by Jennifer Pelland.
All stories read by Deborah Green.

“Innovate, Max. Burrow your way out. I don’t care.”

“A tunnel of snow would be unsafe for you to travel through, as it could collapse at any time.”

“Max–“

“Would you like to have sex?”

Damn him. He vibrates.

Rated R. Contains profanity, robotic sexual content, and offensive weather.


Download this week’s Escape Pod.

EP001: Imperial


By Jonathon Sullivan
All stories by Jonathon Sullivan
All stories read by Stephen Eley

Our debut issue!

Dennis blinked through his dripping eyelashes at the irresistible abomination seated on the blue-green grass two meters in front of him. The Pig smiled her bio-engineered leopard-smile at him and kept her right hand prominently in contact with the stun-gun at her hip.

He stared, too choked with shock, desire and tepid river water to speak.

Rated R. Contains profanity, sexual content, politics, and sarcasm.