Something Wicked is a dark genre magazine out of South Africa. It features good art and a mix of dark fiction offerings that vary from complete misses to overlooked gems.

Issue #9 starts with “9 Curzon Place” by Daniel W. Powell. A perfect musician is found dead while his undeserving, vice-ridden band mates are left alive. The London media immediately begins to question the death, if it wasn’t drugs, of course it must have been the supernatural. Flat and cliché, “9 Curzon Place” is what Behind the Music would have been if M. Night Shyamalan directed.

Vampires, zombies, killers, and demons meet the mob in “Deadfellas” by Greig Cameron. At the darkest interpretation of a meeting in the underworld imaginable, the narrator is called upon to execute his predecessor and take his place in the lowest circle of Hell. This tale rushes toward the end and could have used the benefit of a slower, stronger climax. But it’s pretty funny, making fun of itself as much as the horror tropes it uses.

Kendyll Hogg’s “Red” is more like a poem than a prose. Hogg uses color to allude to raw emotions, setting a scene that readers are left to interpret on their own. This moody addition is a success for suggesting the colors and shapes that might be used in the story, rather than over painting a less than compelling picture.

“Deception” by Z. S. Adani focuses on Almion, a telepath separated from her small sect, in a world prejudiced against her, trying to prove that an organized galaxy tournament is really a cover for people sucking the literal souls from the places where it’s held. This story has alien overlords, conspiracy, and even a plague. However, it is mostly world explanation through character reflection, then plot explanation through dialog, leaving it feeling like a full novel boiled down to a summary, rather than a full bodied short tale.

Stephan Couch’s “Baby’s Got Blue Eyes” is a story about what happens after high school, when the enthusiasm of being free fades to not knowing what you can do next. It tries to hit the reader on two fronts by setting up a trio of confused, but enthusiastic, friends ready to rock out, and an old building that hosts the traditional School’s Out party. Only there’s more than easy drugs and alcohol waiting for the new graduates at the building. This story suffers from the same flaw as its predecessor; it’s simply too short to allow a proper set-up of the characters and storyline.

In “Freemantle Mons—The Leviathan Smile” by Michael John Grist, an old clock stops, and the people for whom it is a fixture are surprised to discover that the sun fails to rise and time fails to move forward without it. In the best tale of this issue, Freemantle Mons must discover why the sun refuses to rise and what it means not just for the city, but for him.

“The Fitting” by Magnus matches the title of the magazine perfectly. A last fitting of a man’s tuxedo before he is to be married takes a tragic, and in a way darkly sweet, twist in a short but must-read addition to this issue.

Glen R. Krisch’s “Gleaners” is a tale of post-apocalyptic survival. The exact setting and method of human downfall is unclear, and the story has a single event feel, making it, like others in this issue, read like an excerpt of a larger piece.

“Last Woman Standing” by Nerine Dorman is a classic monster-in-space tale. It’s chilling and serves to remind readers of the delicate nature of space science, and of the constant threat of creatures just outside our expectations.

In “A Place of Rest” by Steven Marston, readers and narrator alike find something old, something sinister, playing prostitute in a South African brothel. He may well be playing with his own doom, but it’s hard to tell with such a heavily surreal, dreamy quality that makes readers want to snap their fingers and tell the narrator to pay attention to the story he’s telling.

Finally comes “Southern Bride Gothic” by Kurt Bachard, which follows the previous vague tale of madness with a maddening tale told in what can only be called “hick-prose.” But past the text that could drive a grammar-minded reader crazy is a solid, darkly fantastic tale of the things people do to stave off loneliness, and a clear message that there’s no such thing as a perfect woman.

A few tales in this issue of Something Wicked feel as if they made it to the light prematurely, but there are several that make this issue worth purchasing and reading.