writing exercise, the perfectly normal and mediocre
The toaster threw my toast at me. No. It just made the hot piece of bread pop out and that jumpscared me. This was how my morning started. I sent my cup flying from the counter. Of course, it was filled to the brim with coffee as it exploded on the floor tiles. I yelped cause it burnt my foot and didn’t catch the toast, which promptly landed in the dark puddle. This was going to be a weird day. Continue reading “may, 28th”
Part 1: kind of emergency drill
kind of character study: Frank Edwards, Mark Smith
“Suit yourself.” I smiled at Frank and his innocent curiosity. Meme barked and almost gave away his secret. That bark suspiciously sounded like ‘pity’. He didn’t like Frank much, although I had found him in the very same state of despair. Of course, Meme had chosen his animal appearance to match his not-so-human instincts. Maybe they were too similar. Where Frank was hurting himself, Meme was trying to hurt others. Still, they were consumed by the same brand of anger and hate.
Frank looked funny at Meme. He must’ve noticed. Meme smiled sheepishly at me in the hopes of salvation. “Can you imagine, how I found you?” I started down the rabbit hole. After a pause, I decided not to wait for any answers. “I followed the spreading bow wave of death that accompanied you.” Frank spat the sip of beer he just took into the fire. It hissed.
Continue reading “threshold voids & useless gods”
alternative D.P. with changed POV, bc I suck & wrote myself into a corner. So here you go.
Parent text: here
The call saved me from kennel cleaning. Thank God to whoever rang.
I sat in my mock-ffice, in the nook between a dresser that was a stand-in for a kitchen counter, the wall, and a bunk-bed. Across the half breakroom, half guestroom was a real office, and it belonged to Ranger Mark Smith. I tried to listen to the call he just received in the most casual way I could manage without falling over. To be honest, all I had to lean on, was a white plastic folding table behind a cardboard stand with an assortment of fliers and educational pamphlets about the fauna and flora, as well as general information about campgrounds, and some new pencils. Yay. Continue reading “Devil’s Peak (alt 1)”
Part 1 Superstition / Part 2 Names for Blades / Part 3 Sin-eater / Part 4 Threshold
triggerwarning: injury, cruelty, mortal terror, predatory behavior
“Mark, is this really necessary?” I’d be nervous too. “I doubt you need me tied down.” It was a bad position, yes. Frank scuttled and tried to keep his balance. But it was important to leave no doubts. I bowed down and tied his ankles and knees together. The Sin-eater was an old being, almost as old as I was, which meant it wasn’t defenseless. It wasn’t dumb. If it suspected a trap, it would do a lot more than just kill the child. Continue reading “Devil’s Peak (5a)”
Part 1 Superstition
Part 2 Names for Blades
Part 3 Sin-eater
Each breath of cold black air cleared my mind. I held onto Frank’s arm, supporting his weight, marching him forward. Frank’s white hair gleamed like ash falling into the rich darkness. One step -or drag- at the time, we made our way up the trail towards the boulder field. He was heavier than anticipated. I had to thank myself for that, cause I had been the one to knock him out. It was for a good cause though: safety. Continue reading “Devil’s Peak (4)”
Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department,
Kuro (BLACK, han'yo),
Lou Rouxgaroux (Lou Wolfwolf, werewolf),
Felix Kanagawa (HAPPY Kanagawa river, river spirit)
Part 1 HQ
Lou sat on the office couch reading his book.
Well… No, he didn’t. He was pretending to read, and he was pretending to sit. Being a werewolf seemingly gave him cat-like abilities to turn into liquid in and on any surface or furniture.
Lou was focused on Felix’s lunch.
How could I tell?
I was eying that lunch too. Continue reading “Fox, Wolf and Dragon (1)”
Part 1 - Wings of an Angel
The gulls make a ruckus. They are restless. News will arrive shortly, my mother used to say. God rest her poor soul.
No clouds hide the blue sky. Before the morning mass, I see the sails. They appear on the horizon like the wings of an angel. Bright. White. Impatiently expected. I’ve been waiting for this ship. Everything is going to be fine now. Thank God Almighty. She will arrive at noon. I give out the orders to bring Captain Andersen to my office as soon as possible. Continue reading “peter midnight”
MB #1; #2; #3; #4; #5;
So? How’s Frazer? Rains shrugs, food tray in his hands lifting slightly. I gesture for him to join me at my table. What did Oz say?
The usual. He’s doing his best. Frazer’s out of the woods. She’ll be out of the med bay in some days. He sits down and pokes at his dehydrated meal packs. I hand him the hot water can. Nearly ready with my food, I focus on him.
And Decker? Oh, come on. Don’t make that face. I smile at his bitter, angry grimace. After all, you saved his life. He’ll be happy. Rains looks wounded as if I congratulate him on destroying the capital of The United Territories. Continue reading “med bay snippet #6”
1 & 2, 4, 5, 6, 7,
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”
- triggerwarning - grief, alcohol
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”