The Cassandra Concept

part 0.01 - 
part 0.02

“I got you a blanket, so you won’t freeze.“ Steve smiles and hands Tom a grey woolen cover.

Already half undressed, Tom furrows his brows. He stops mid motion, shoe laces around his fingers. “It looks scratchy. I’m hungry and it’s freezing.“ He looks at Steve’s face and stops again, irked. “Don’t stare like that!

“-Like what?

“Like I was a T-bone steak, ‘n you hungry… It’s awkward. Continue reading “The Cassandra Concept”

The Rio Negro Game

The Rio Negro Game
Backstory to "BOCA DE MORTE"


Pick yourself a nightmare!“ Howard snorted and waved patronizingly at the swinging boat hulls. They bobbed up and down, in the brownish shoals of the Rio Amazonas. The plank under our feet creaked, so I showed Howard towards one of the newest looking boat. It hit me, that new was just a mere concept in Manaus. New meant anything under 15 years, more or less. My partner gave me the brow. „You know, there are easier ways to-“

Shut up ’n move!“ I had no intention on striking roots here. It smelled of dead fish and rotting vegetables, if we stayed longer we’d put on mold. The sweltering heat was getting on my nerves. Dammit!

My. Aren’t we cheerful today? Nicky? Really?! A death-stare? I’ll be another mystery death. A body with two holes in the chest, burnt all the way through. Oh, noes … Just imagine the newspapers will write horrible headers, that the Chupacabra finished a mighty good-looking tourist. What a terrible loss to humanity… Seriously. …Stop it. Continue reading “The Rio Negro Game”

dreams of doomsday

dreams of doomsday

The steaming mug of tea drew a slow, hot circle in the laminate of the coffee table.

Normal physics. The best of it, the calming part. Not the going haywire for no fucking reason. Inside this room, my apartment. Everything seems to be stable for now.

Outside though… Visible vectors, stretching and distorting time and space… Things which should not be. Impossible things. Today I saw a bird climbing back into an egg, before exploding.

This is wrong… Everything… It doesn’t make sense. Continue reading “dreams of doomsday”



“WHAT THE-?! DID YOU SEE THAaachkkkrrsshhhh-”

What? Cracking. What did he say? Screeching. A loud bang…

The walkie-talkie falls silent. Tssk. I hate it when he does that. The burnt down cigarette ash falls into the tray. Fingers sweaty. Why does it always has to be me?!

I scan over the surveillance monitors. All cameras working properly. Empty rooms and corridors – Nothing unusual… Except for Benny. Who’s not showing up – anywhere. Where did he go? On duty?

Continue reading “statics”

boca de morte

boca de morte

It is too damn hot and too damn humid to feel like a decent human being.

Plus, this is my last beer – maybe for months. Lukewarm as piss…

How the hell do people here cool themselves?!

The food is spicy, the liquor nasty. To shower is useless, cause I’m sweating.In. The.Shower! The river looks tempting though. But… I won’t take my chances, to end up with a weird, or nasty disease, or both.

Continue reading “boca de morte”

the smell of snow

The stuffed animals stared down at him as if they knew something he didn’t.

That thought  hit him like a truck. His hair stood on end…

The urge to vomit climbed up in his throat. It came so sudden, that he barely managed to fight it back. The nausea calmed after a moment, and he took a deep breath. Everything was back to normal. Just the stuffed animals… They still looked pitiful at him.

What was it with today? Such a cold, gray January-day charged with static electricity… Winter at its best, or worst… A blizzard was coming. The weather forecast kept warning since two or three days. He felt it since he opened his eyes this morning. In bed, he first thought he was back in the hospital and got scared. Then he remembered, the mint-green ceiling was Anna’s idea. His hands found the empty hollow, where she used to sleep. She answered his calling right away. Their daughter, Alexandra, had a nightmare, so she slept with her.

This day was different. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Even the toast tasted funny. More like …dust. His imagination was playing tricks on him. Surely.

As he opened the shop. There was this distinct sensation of emptiness as he entered. Emptiness and darkness. As if danger was stalking him. He shook it off.

The Teddies. They sat lazily, lined up in a row, staring down from the shelf, with a malicious glee sparkling in their glass-eyes …No. That could not be. He must be imagining it…

Those animals were ancient, older than himself. By far. The antique shop was full with them. The owner loved and specialized with stuffed Teddies. And those looking at him so viciously were the most precious ones. He walked up and down in the shop, like a caged tiger. He felt tension creeping up his back, attaching itself to the space between his scapulae. Right there, it burned his skin with an icy sensation, drilling itself deeper. The piercing chill got stronger as he exhaled, making him burst in cold sweat.

No customer showed up, so he went to the entrance and opened the door. The bell chimed with its usual hollow jingle. He managed a strained smile at the passers by. No one noticed him, or they ignored him. The wind blew in some snowflakes. He had to close the door, humidity is bad for the paintings and the etchings… He turned on his heel.

Again. The Teddies were staring his way. Something… Fury burning in their eyes.

“Come on, Albert. You’re imagining things. You’ll jump at your own shadow.” He told himself loudly. It only helped a little bit. The stabbing sensation in his back made him whimper. He tried to sit down, but missed the chair and fell. The expensive Persian carpet felt good under his palms and back. It was soft, thick and smelled good.

The pain left him. Albert closed his eyes and breathed. Tears ran down his face. He started crying, he noticed with surprise. There was no reason for it. He wasn’t sad, or anything… His life was stable, without problems, enough to live and to eat. There was a loving wife and a daughter waiting for him at home. He was satisfied. At least he believed it…