Ist Issue

The final line up for the first issue is decided and you can see a taster below...

Contents shown in the order they will appear in the finished zine.

The first issue of Ethereal Tales was published on

Friday 24th October 2008

First a cool Halloween pic from Goth-Alice


Hungry For Life
By Alan Lawson

The hunger was almost upon me, and it was time to feed while I still had control over my own actions. I dressed accordingly, in clothes that revealed my figure without being too common… even after hundreds of years I was still very aware of my Mother’s words on dressing appropriately for any social occasion. I was always relieved that she never learned of what I became after clawing my way out of the cold earth, and the social circles that I had become accustomed to… Monsters such as myself, murderers, would be rapists… my prey.


'My Darling'
By Eternity Valette

'I have to speak to you, to reach you somehow. If only you knew how I’ve been thinking about you, wondering how you would react when I tell you this, but I feel that I must. I just can’t go on pretending anymore, looking away while you are stood right before me, giving my glimpses of the life I’ve always dreamt about.
I know about you. I know what you are. Don’t worry, I understand. I think it’s a wonderful thing...'


In The Presence Of Saint Modwenna
by Andrew M. Boylan

(This piece is an exclusive chapter from the book 'Concilium Sanguinarius', it is a great read in itself but will also whet your appetite for this great book!)

'The campfire had just, grudgingly, flickered into life; the damp sticks producing as much smoke as they did light. The woman, a nun, knelt on the floor warming her hands whilst the two guards stood nearby grumbling to each other.
“Dame Startin,” the taller of the two guards addressed the woman, “begging yer pardon, but I’d ask you to reconsider. This forest ain’t safe.”
The woman shook her head and, silently, asked God for strength before replying. “Master Warder, I have left the title of Dame behind. I am the Prioress of Kirklees now.”
“As you say ma’m, but I’d still ask you to reconsider.” There seemed to be a small edge of panic or anxiety in the grizzled man’s voice.
“Master Warder, for better or for worse I fear that we are stuck in the forest until day breaks. I will not risk the horses by stumbling blind through the undergrowth.”...'


By Michael A. Kechula

Walking through the jungle in typical zombie style---arms extended fully outward, palms pointing to the ground---Boss Zombie’s pop-eyes rolled from side to side looking for Zombie 2058.

Suddenly he heard someone singing. He would’ve turned his head in that direction, but zombies can’t do that because of calcified neck muscles. Instead, he shifted his weight so his rotted feet twisted toward the sounds.

As he moved forward, he heard, “There’s no business like show business like no business I know...”

“What the hell are you doing?” he hollered when he spotted Zombie 2058 hopping around on his only remaining, rotting leg.

By Shelley


The Last Mage
By Andrew Hawnt

Time is of the essence. I want there to be some chronicle of recent events so that the record will be set straight at some point, whatever is to become of me. This is the truth as I lived it, and this is not any easy thing for me to put onto paper. You see, for a little over three centuries I have been keeping my activities secret, hidden from those I wish to serve. It has been far from easy maintaining a veil over what I do and who I am, but all of that work is now undone. I have been forced to reveal myself to the world, and as much as it pains me, there was no other way. Choices are there to be made, not pondered over, as the moment you begin to ponder, the choice may have already been made for you.


Gandalf The White
By Chris Bell


The Monster Hunter
By Eric S. Brown

The thing sat perched on top of the car. The car’s roof had caved inward, barely able to support the thing’s massive weight as its eyes stared at him with burning hatred and the night’s breeze ruffled its brown fur.

Greg could only wonder how things had gotten so out of hand. In all his years at this job, he had never been so wrong about what he was up against. It was supposed to have been a were-creature. That was what all the reports the church had given him had said but this thing before him was much more than that. It was a demon straight from the depths of Hell itself.


De And La
By Destiny Spirit

A cartoon about some crazy vampires on a jolly jaunt to the Whitby Gothic Weekend.


They Come From Below
By C.J. Carter Stephenson

"Ha ha ha,” came the sinister laugh, ringing out along the empty corridors like an irritating sound-effect on a ghost train. Bob Stokes slammed down his book and cocked his head to the side. This was the second time he had heard the noise. Initially, he had assumed he was imagining things, but now he was sure there was someone there. “I’ll bet it’s one of those bloody tramps again,” he said to himself angrily.
The single light bulb suspended from the ceiling above cast a cold light around the small room, making the darkness in the surrounding passageways seem all the more complete. Bob tried to ignore his growing sense of isolation, but it wasn’t easy.


Photo Illustration for They Come From Below - 'The Green Man Emerges'
also by C.J.Carter Stephenson


By Jonathan J. Schlosser

Everyone says they want to be flies on walls, but no one means it. They think they want to see great things, like maybe secrets and maybe people in the shower, and I guess they do. But what they don’t realize is that that isn’t what you see. Not at all. You see other things, things you never wanted, much less planned for, and it’s not all it sounds like. Not that glorious, you know? I found that one out, as they say.
You see, for a short while, I could see everything


By Remus

Sate opened his eyes, closed them again and when this didn’t work he traced his hands over his face in case his fringe had fallen over his face again. Everywhere was black.
“Soaked-” He muttered, the words falling from his lips after surfacing from his mildly insane subconscious. He tried to turn over and go back to sleep but realised the bed was made of planks.
He sat up and was aware of three things:
There was no light to speak of. Not even the pale light of the moon reflecting off of his skin. It was, he decided, a complete absence of light.
His ears felt like they had been bunged with corks soaked in vegetable oil.
He was bobbing.
He scrambled at that point, feeling for his surroundings. There was a barrier on either side of him that came up to his chest. His arse was wet and the floor felt gritty on his knees.
In a boat, he thought. Bobbing in a boat.
The realization made him feel ill.


Mind The Gap
by Shelley


The Gypsy Curse
By Teresa Ford

The forest seemed to whisper as the cool breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves. It was a late autumn evening, and it looked like it was going to be a harsh winter if the weather so far was anything to go by. The gentle calm of the place was suddenly broken by the sound of galloping horses hooves on the hard earth, as a rider came into view through the dark cover of the trees. It was a man, sitting strong and tall on a large black stallion…horse and rider in perfect harmony as they wove their way through the forest.


Here is the promotional video for Issue One


Don't Forget...
Ethereal Tales Needs YOU!

If you feel you can contribute towards the zine, then check out the submissions page for the guidelines and submission form.

We look forward to hearing from you!

(Thanks to Shelley for this great promo pic to help encourage you all to submit your stuff)


If you don't wish to buy a copy of Ethereal Tales, but still wish to support us you may use the button below to make a donation towards the running of the zine