The ceiling spins, and the fan stays so damn still. My stomach is a churning, burning, mass of something or other that is not bile but tastes a heck of a lot like it. My legs do not go the right way, not the way they should be—the muscles relaxed to the point I’m unsure I can stand. Continue reading
In the attic sat a mysterious typewriter. In the attic stood a boy and a girl. All young—except the typewriter. The typewriter was old, as typewriters tend to be.
“So, that’s the one your grandmother talked about?” the boy said, and walked toward it, ducking underneath some webs.
“Yeah—but don’t touch it!” She reached out to stop him but her fingers missed by inches. Continue reading
If you haven’t read it, here’s a link to part 1.
For everyone else, let’s continue, shall we?
That caught me off guard, and she nodded like I’d answered, told her whatever it was she wanted forgiveness for was okay. But, after a second, I just repeated my question: “So, what was it then?”
She answered without a pause. “It’s a biomechanical species of swarm insect. Though it acts as a single unit. Has a short lifespan, so every time its population grows low it latches onto one host and invades, repurposing organic material to make more and more of themselves until it can burst out without an issue.” Continue reading
I haven’t felt squeamish in years. So, you must understand my confusion when I came upon the newest scene of death and dismemberment and something lurched in my stomach. A few thoughts went through my head as I clutched with one hand on my gut. I assumed the sponge steak I had made had been bad or something of that ilk. That I had failed to drink enough sim-water.
Only after another second I realized the truth: I was grossed out, disgusted. My partner did not look at me as she passed by my frozen figure into the living room, and so I did not have to explain my situation as she kneeled next to what used to be a person. Continue reading
Don’t take your fingers for granted. I present a strange tale called:
This whole thing began, as many hauntings do, when I came across a dead body. I should clarify that, though, by saying that while this was by no means a normal occurrence, I was still not as concerned as some might have been in my situation. I’d seen some magical corpses in my time. Continue reading
More than one child finds a world in the hedge. First Benjamin did, and now, another kid gets their turn to decide.
I call this sequel of sorts:
Beyond The Path
“I really would not do that,” he said, and the girl spun on her expensive shoes. She gave the boy with the odd clothes and the curving nose a hard glare.
“Why, are there monsters?” the girl asked. She held up her pocket knife, and grinned. “Because I’m ready for those.” Continue reading
Time to continue our journey to a new place with the second part (click here for the first part) of a flash fiction called:
A New Place
Benjamin opened his mouth and only uttered out the simple question of: “Who are you?”
The boy crossed his arms and swayed from side to side. He was wearing a strange outfit upon further inspection: a purple and yellow pair of pants, and a deep crimson red shirt. All the clothe looked threadbare and worn out.
“I’m not sure, actually. I tried to figure it out one time: but I had a headache.” Continue reading
In this flash fiction, beyond the hedge: there is a world. A world containing a choice, a boy, and something…off.
I call it:
A New Place
Benjamin Nosh, age thirteen, stared at the gap in the wall of hedges. He was sure he’d never seen it there before, not in all the days he’d walked home from school.
He leaned forward, peering inside, but only found a second, further away wall of hedges stretching in either direction. Benjamin, back when he lived in Illinois, had spent some time in a corn maze at a festival, and this looked much the same. Like a hallway made of foliage. Continue reading
If I did not have a gun, this man would worry me. With the gun, I was only on professional high alert.
Perhaps a description would be useful in this, a reference point to the creature—once human.
He had the usual marks—dark green veins around his mouth. Had the standard shadows at his feet dancing and snapping at things. Each time they touched me I got cold.
He also wore a black suit. Continue reading
In a town like this, you learn not to drink from the water fountains. This lesson, among many others, came with living in a Dark Zone. We are one of the towns you hear about in horror stories. We have a curse from someone or something always popping up around once a month.
For most of us, life is short. But you can manage to survive longer if you bother to be smart about what you are doing.
You must be self-reliant, because it’s not like you will get much help. The thing about Dark Zones is that we can’t communicate out of it to anywhere but other Dark Zones. If the type of phenomena we regularly experience ever reached the attention of the mainstream media, it would change the world. If a single person escaped after being pulled in, we might have the entire country’s military come down to purge the place like a zit on the fabric of reality.
But we can’t, so they don’t. Continue reading
Let it be said that I do not always do stories which are all doom and gloom. This one is, shocker, a pure romance story. Served to you a couple of days before the day of couples, Valentine’s Day.
I hope you enjoy this tale. It’s called:
It’s Kind Of Awkward
The thing about her was that I knew. I did not think I could know. It was astonishing. Flabbergasting to even comprehend that such a person could exist.
But, there she was. Standing there, and looking around with big eyes, and I just…melted. A little ball of wax in my heart moved to liquid. A slow thing gliding down my chest. Continue reading
(In case you haven’t read it yet, here’s a link to part 2.)
Whatever the woman was hearing shrieked, and her mouth shot open, and her eyes darted. She stared around, panicked. Her foot hit the camera, and it knocked over sideways in the dirt. The lens cracked, but the light continued to shine.
Her voice refused to come to her. Gone was all sound from the room until broken by the other’s human speech.
“Okay, gave you the chance. I’m lowering myself down, I’ll bring you back something shiny.” Continue reading
(In case you haven’t read it yet, here’s a link to part 1)
“Now we’re talking. Careful with the camera then. I’m doing first contact here. A huge step.”
“I’m sure someone already beat you to that.”
“Not on a live web feed.”
A rumble, somewhere, shook the ceiling. A few tiny rocks plopped down and made the water again ripple. The sensation of something stalking them was prevalent. And not altogether impossible. It was egg-like. There could be a mother. Continue reading
(Due to some time distortions, and several Gods, I am getting this out to you a little late. Hope you enjoy it all the same, and I should be able to get thing back to relative normal soon.)
Somethings should not be on camera.
I call this story:
“Are we live?”
The light shined weak against the skin.
“Yeah, this is live. We’ve got…ten viewers already.”
“Getting a clear image is hard. The camera doesn’t like it.”
“No, I’m betting it doesn’t.” Continue reading