1 & 2
Nearly two months now, that I was trapped in this old shabby hospital in Bucharest. What did one of the doctors say? As God created Romania, he only had dirt, rust, desperation, and poverty left to work with. Someone muttered a genius response. It was the biggest and most elaborate shell game con that made this country survive another legislation period. Two sides of the same coin.
There. Romania in a nutshell.
As amusing as this forced holiday was, it started to bore me to tears. I needed to go back to my cave. The gravitation of the discovery cradled my mind day and night. I dreamt of Ostra. I saw Ostra in my mind. I thought of Ostra. It called for me.
So I planned.
I plotted. Continue reading “Black Door”
Dirt rained from the ceiling of the dome. A deep rumble went through the cave. The Carpathians woke up. “Did you feel that?” Farnsworth couldn’t keep the scare out of his voice. Pathetic. A tiny earthquake was enough to get the man terrified. My flashlight illuminated the ancient pictograms on the basalt slab. This must be Ostra. “Let’s take some pictures, and go back!” His breath made little vapor clouds. Continue reading “Black Door”
- triggerwarning -
I plunked down into the leather couch and tugged the patchwork quilt over my legs. Maria, my ex-wife, made it during the five long years of our marriage. She made it for Amy, our little daughter.
I petted the fabric, fingers tracing the sewed areas, for the hundredths time, maybe for the hundred-thousandths time by now…
It had been vibrant and colorful, with the reds and blues and yellows thoughtfully arranged on twenty to thirty-five inches. Baby animals playing under the stars and the moon. Pink hearts lined beneath those little paws. My fingertips knew all the stitches.
Continue reading “The Stain”
– NAMES FOR BLADES –
remember, this is still WIP
The trees creaked as if the moon itself rolled on top of them. The sky was still bright enough but caught amber on the west side. The silence was accompanying a sense of dread and heaviness on my chest. “We should hurry,” I told Frank. No birds chirped, no animal rustled the leaves. The longer we had our feet on the trail, the quieter the forest got. Continue reading “DEVIL’S PEAK (2)”
The emptiness in Jack’s chest is drilling ache. The skin feels numb and knotted under his sweaty shirt. His fingertips trace the long pink scar on his breastbone.
There is no reason to rush things.
The surgeons have saved his life. He wonders if it has been worth it. They take away that weak heart. Jack imagines how they pry him open, strip him bare of that sick metronome of his past. They steal all of who he was and hoped to be. Jack’s a new man, with new life force in his groins, a new heart to match and no memories to regret. There are no memories at all. The doctors call it amnesia. Jack calls it a blank slate.
Continue reading “Heartless Jack”
“I admit, it was a kneejerk reaction,” John shivered. We were both nearly naked and dripping wet. The dive I took into the frozen lake was an accident, and John did his best to rescue me. He had a conscience after all. It was his fault that I broke in, in the first place. So he pulled me out, brought me back to the mansion. The blanket I had on my shoulders started itching. I hoped his itched as well. Continue reading “bruises”
The rock wall flew past. I clawed at it. The climbing harness dug into my thighs and waist, yanked me back. I felt Nick’s dead weight pulling under me. “Don’t let go!” I yelled, but a gust took my voice. I swung out of control.
Continue reading “Cliffhanger”