Darkness Beckons is the fourth annual horror anthology edited by Mark Morris and published by Flame Tree Press. Like its predecessors, this one is filled with an excellent array of dark tales, written by some of the best practitioners of short fiction working today. As Morris states in his engaging introduction, this book marks the first time that one of his anthologies has contained more female authors than males. I only mention this because it’s important to note that the genre is in constant evolution – not just with regards to gender parity or an emergence of writers from different social backgrounds – but also in terms of thematic tone and subject matter – and it’s certainly refreshing to see so many editors keen to bring new voices and viewpoints to a wider readership.

The stories in Darkness Beckon cover a wide range of what constitutes the horror genre; from folk horror to the more traditional ghost story, from the darkest heart of humanity to the weird tale’s outright macabre. There must be something here to satisfy the majority of horror fans.

As with every anthology or short story collection, every entry stands alone and, as such, each reader will find different favourites within the pages of the book. The standouts for me were the contributions I’ll mention here, but it’s important to state that I think the overall quality is of such a high standard, there wasn’t really any of them that I didn’t enjoy. In Dodger by Carly Holmes motherhood is painted in nightmarish terms, made even more unsettling by the thread of skewed truth discernable in its prose. The brilliance of He Wasn’t There Again Today by Peter Atkins is driven by a narrator with a strong voice; this one is quirky and fun. Reading Good Bones by Sarah Read actually induced a nightmare of bones and cobwebs in my bed, such is its power, where we find Jim visiting the home of elderly Mrs Kelsey in order to do some odd-jobs around her dilapidated house. The sinister subject of Stephen Volk’s Under Cover of Darkness is a recognisable character, and Volk’s story depicts what feels like an approximation of one of the grisly real-life events surrounding him, complemented by the author’s masterful prose. The Fig Tree by Lucie McKnight Hardy shows what happens when a couple and their two young children spend a weekend away in a Welsh cottage; this one has elements of folk horror and references elements of grossness that might just put you off figs for life.

They keep saying that the short story market is done, that nobody reads this stuff any more. But the quality of writing in these Flame Tree Press anthologies suggest that there’s a thriving industry in short horror fiction that should not be ignored. There are still wonderfully skilled writers willing to work at this length, honing their craft and developing ideas that speak about the very fears we have in the modern world. The Flame Tree Press anthologies in particular are important, because although each book includes commissioned contributions from seasoned writers, the publisher also allows emerging writers to submit original stories during an advertised submission window, which keeps the books feeling fresh and relevant. This one, like the other three before it, comes highly recommended.