All of the best things hide in the dark, and that's where I like to write.
My stories have appeared in magazines, anthologies, and podcasts including Spooklights, High Strange Horror, Morpheus Tales, The Big Book of New Short Horror, Daily Frights, and Pseudopod. Read some of my creepiest pieces here—and follow @ToniWritesintheDark for more.
DARK MATTER
"Toni Nicolino’s Dark Matter is a particular standout. The lead character struggles to digest the death of her monstrous, meth-addicted mother. Suffocating and raw, Nicolino shrewdly pulls the reader down into the spiraling chaos of a damaged psyche desperate to untangle and sort out a lifetime of hurt."
-Literati Press
GUT CHECK
"This story is about more than a horrific slice of human depravity, it’s about life. It is strength in the face of adversity; it is steeling yourself and facing the future head on because the future doesn’t care about you or your plans. It writes a new ending to a familiar tale, a brighter future, it empowers us to write our own."
-Brian Lieberman, Pseudopod Editor
THE DEAD WAIT
"I was really creeped out by The Dead Wait by Toni Nicolino. Rich Wall Street guy is dying of terminal cancer and he starts hearing and seeing strange stuff. But is it real? Supernatural? Read the book!"
-The H.P. Lovecraft Literary Podcast
the COMING
"This story begins with an interesting central character and explores her vulnerabilities while revealing an equally-interesting story behind them. The prose maintains a suspenseful sense of unrest throughout, and builds into an intense, adrenaline-charged climax. I found the story both dark and intelligently-written. A very nice piece of work suiting of this issue's theme."
-Morpheus Tales
YOU SAID YOU WOULD COME
“The phone on the bedside table emitted a shrill, hysterical cry, and Susan James-Howard’s first thought was: The phone is ringing in the middle of the night. Despite the sleep that hung heavily upon her torpid limbs, her heart and mind crackled with electric terror…”
YOU HAVE ONE TOO
I watch her every day: in the morning, in the afternoon, but mostly at night. Lost in ignorant, blissful sleep, she knows I’m there, but she doesn’t know I’m watching. Her eyes are closed, but mine are open.
in the light
“She watched him sleep, wondering what she’d found attractive about him in the club. He was missing three fingers on his left hand, and his skin had a peculiar plasticine quality that repulsed her now. His lips, which only hours before had been pressed against her flesh, looked bloated and ashy. Even his body possessed an unnatural, disproportionate quality, as if his arms and legs had been taken from two different men and affixed to a third torso.”
MOTHER
“Mother broke her hip during the summer of 1979. Jim, Beth, Sara, Michael and I gathered at the hospital and drew straws to determine who would care for the old woman upon her release. Michael lost. The next day, he twisted his Chevy Big 10 around a sturdy oak just off of Route 9. I’d like to say it was a horrific coincidence, one that had nothing to do with Michael’s bad luck at the hospital, but you don’t know Mother.”