S.E. Casey Author

Abandoned scarecrow posts, bikram yoga portals, contorted silhouettes, twilight carnivals.

After celebrating his twenty years working as an accountant in an investment firm, S.E. Casey began writing.  As an attempt to reconcile the desperation and stave off a growing resentment of everything, he found stories lodged in-between the numbers, reconcilements, and variances. On a whim, he wrote, edited, revised, and rewrote these liminal tales. During the dead-time in meetings, reports load-times, and the wasted hours of a Boston commute, an increasingly weird collection has been built from the anxieties of corporate life.

A writer of the weird, grotesque, and darkly wonderful, S.E. Casey’s philosophical horror focuses on a collection of oddities, forgotten places, and fallen characters.  The horror isn’t the blood on the knife, but in the absence of the void.  It is in vacant corners and empty rooms. It is in the pathologies of the phenomenally ungrateful.  These neglected alleyways and sewer drains find their way to the same existential dead-end of Hell is other people.  Twisted and strange tales explore aesthetics, absurdism, transcendentalism, and misanthropy wrapped up in horror narratives.

He has self-published several weird short stories: HARLEQUIN MIDNIGHT, SWINE CITY, NICHOLAS’ LIGHT, and THE CENTURY COVEN. He has also had stories and poems appear in such publications as Hinnom Magazine, Vastarien, Devolution Z Horror Magazine, Weirdbook, Flash Fiction Magazine, and The HWA Poetry Showcase Volume II among others.  His flash fiction story DOWNWARD GOD won the Deadman’s Tome Month of Horror Story Contest.  Also, his story BLACK STAINED GLASS  finished in second place in the Molotov Cocktail Zine’s 2016 Flash Fear contest.  See the full listing of published works here.

His reading tastes tend toward weird horror and existential fiction, stories that muddy the ground of reality: Albert Camus, Hubert Selby Jr, Clive Barker, and, of course, Thomas Ligotti.  He supports independent writers, music, artists—anyone with a genuine voice.  Find him on twitter @thesecasey or languishing in one of the Boston skyscrapers drowning in numbers.