The flashlight was, of course, dead. The lightbulb could have fried or the battery could have been drained, either way it illuminate absolutely bupkis, which is to say it had become nothing more than a decently heavy sturdy weapon in the case one of the bats, twittering and squeaking in the darkness overhead decided to attack or more unlikely, but more terrifyingly turned into a vampire and attempt to suck my blood. With the dark clawing at my clothes, and shoving it’s way down my throat the creatures of the night were beginning to feel more and more real and less and less like some sort of crazy fantasy.
My voice rasped as I called out for the seventeenth time, yes I was keeping count their was little else to do and gave my mind something to focus on. It was just my fucking luck that I would get lost. There was something about being lost, that sucked all the confidence out of your body and reduced you to a five year old, wandering the halls of the grocery store screaming for your mother. Small, fragile, and very alone, everything was an obstacle, an enemy keeping you from you beloved companions. My foot squelched and I really should have realized, as soon as I shifted my weight, my foot slipped, my ankle rolling, and all my hundred twenty pounds slammed into the cold damp cave floor.
Continue reading “Spelunking is for Batman”
<= Part 1
Odette stroked the tiny unassuming heart inked on her inner wrist trying to gain reassurance from it, confidence would have been preferable. There was something so nerve wracking about meeting a new potential, if her evaluation was well received she would find herself manipulating lives. Though she could not deny the joy when a true loving couple found each other.
Flint stood before her, thumb reaching over to crack a knuckle, the only sign at all that he felt her same apprehensions. Their job was nerve wracking, and took a great deal of finesse but she found it was well worth it.
Continue reading “The Affection Unit: Unassuming”
The man, one Mister Lyon Caswell, looked as if he had one foot in the grave. With skin so paper thin you could see the veins beneath it, a dark contrast of blue to pale white. His eyes were no better, glassy orbs of nearly colorless existence, marred only by the dark pupil. His body was spindly and long, appearing stretched, as if he had suffered some great medieval torture. The expanse of his shoulders was practically touching his ears, and he was hunched, his back burdened with a massive weight.
Continue reading “The Weight of the Dead: Alternate Ending”
“I’ll never forget…” she murmured, eyes glazed over as she stared ahead. “You can’t make me forget.” Hands tied her down, rough and unwavering, moving with bleak efficiency. The straps cut into her wrists, bound her torso, her feet, cut into the soft skin of her checks, the bright florescent light was imprinted upon her retinas.
She captured the memory in her mind, the tilted of her jaw, the long locks of her hair, the warm crystal blue of her eyes, the gentle touch of her hand. She wrapped those memories around her like a blanket, keeping herself warm, in the stark metallic room, with the impressions of the women who had raised her, had shaped and moulded her.
Continue reading “Never Forget”
The man looked as if he had one foot in the grave. With skin so paper thin you could see the veins spidering beneath it, a dark contrast of blue to pale white. His eyes were no better glassy orbs of nearly colorless existence, marred only by the dark pupil. His body was spindly and long, appearing stretched, as if he had suffered some great mediaeval torture. The expanse of his shoulders was practically touching his ears, and he was hunched, his back burdened with a massive weight.
Such an appearance was hardly conducive of setting people at ease, and he wandered a lonely path, his friends few and far between. Those who could look beyond his peculiarities were often as outcast as he. The people who held his trust could be counted on the four fingers of his left hand.
Continue reading “The Weight of the Dead”
“Despite Mrs. Weldon’s wishes, I cannot in good conscience grant you custody. There is no precedent for this. I am sorry.” The voice wavered with the knowledge of the ramifications of her decision.
“Computer, log repair to section 424-E as completed.” The computer chirped a confirmation. With a stained hand, Gar shoved his goggles onto his forehead, the strands of his hair tangled and bent beneath the straps at odd angles, the layers of magnification lenses reflecting the glow of the port-lights. Steam hissed through the air, as the steel door locked behind him.
“Decontamination process commencing.” Liquid chemicals heated into a thick steam, choking the air of the chamber. Ten seconds later, a machine began humming loudly, the thick clouds of chemicals, whispering down ventilation shafts. “Decontamination complete. Please, step from the chamber.”
“Thanks, Computer. See you tomorrow.”
Continue reading “Artificial”
Her fear of the unknown was overwhelming.
The pressure of her bare feet against the rocks, sent pebbles clattering down the cliff face. Each plunked into the water, disappearing between the churning waves, consumed by the immense presence of the ocean. Swallowed, devoured, forever out of her reach.
Continue reading “Overwhelming”
In the lines of her face, were the memories of a long life. Etched into each wrinkle and freckle, scar and mark were all the years she had lived. Her experiences and triumphs, failures and mistakes. Each more precious to her than the beauty of her youth had been.
The deep creases at the corner of her lips betrayed the joy she had lived through, the smiles and laughter she had shared.
The line cutting across her throat was from hours hunched over books, head tucked in. The books close to her chest, indenting into her stomach. The weight heavy but the words even more so.
The freckles dusting the paper thin skin of her nose, spoke of the days spent in the sunshine, it’s rays dancing across her flesh, a warm caress, washing her with a gentle feeling of peace. The sun blotted out as a young boy with too quick a smile, and too bright eyes stared down at her, beckoned her to follow him. She never stopped.
Continue reading “Memories”
“End this, end this now,” his voice was a dark supplication. “End all this pain and torment.” His body was broken, the work of her own hands. The necessary work, she whispered to herself, it felt like a hollow truth. Her weary eyes lifted, looking upon all the destruction he had wrought.
Buildings once tall and majestic, looked like broken toy structures, fragile, and cracked, great hunks of cement and mortar littering the streets.
Cars were overturned and upended, golden flames licking at whatever survived in their scorched metal frames. The acrid smell of smoke burning her nostrils.
Continue reading “Unnatural Abilities”
He married her on a cool crisp spring morning…
It gave no indication of what was to come.
Two weeks later,
floating on the ocean, the waters calm and still,
…he lost her.
Continue reading “The Waters Calm and Still”