For twenty seven years I lived a strange and unimaginable life, and one morning I woke up divorced from life. I was awake.
I wish I could go back to sleep
Which is the greater magic; that which can sink a castle into the earth or that which can make the world's greatest sandwhich?
The great paradoxes of the Universe is that everything follows almost exactly the same course, yet in doing so, is somehow still unique and with importance and value.
Most of the other old men I talk to about life discuss defining days that separated their lives into a before and after. My life does not have any such days, no single event changed the way I lived my life. This life of mine is one unbroken field, different crops have been planted and reaped, but the ground has remained the same. There is one day though that scars that field like a stump or stone that cannot be plowed under. I have spent many seasons pondering that day, but have never found a comfortable place for it.
The confessions of an unlucky A.I.
The Diary of young girl who finds herself trapped in purgatory, searching salvation and trying to make sense of that which is deliberatly insane. (A prelude to the entry found in my Chasers submission.)
Ideally the creatures described within this (ongoing) sub will be detailed in turn as their own seperate submissions eventally painting a complete picture of purgatoy.
This a post apocalypse adventure/horror novel, the prologue of which I’m putting up here and will be updating with further chapters.
Rated R for graphic violence and some profanity.
This feeling grows inside you, this feeling like an eternal flame. Something that makes you want to wake up in the morning, but one that wont let you sleep.
A Sci-fi tale surrounding a Earth force captains first command and battle against an unknown alien race.
This is the first 2 1/2 chapters of my on going Battlefield promotion novella, I have attempted to blend third and first person writing together in a smooth natural fashion, and strived to keep true to the details of space as it’s understood by modern astronomy today.
It may be a bit slow to pick up the pace in the beginning, but it does gain momentum.
For those who are curious I’d consider this story to be rated PG-13 or R due to descriptive violence.
Swordbiters are parasites. They are long, thin and silver, and digest metal, somewhat like rust monsters, but smaller and more insidious. They resemble stick insects, but when they cling to metal they are very well camouflaged, and one can be biting your sword for a week before you notice it. They cannot be removed by hand, as they are very strong, but if the blade is inserted into fire they will leap off to escape the flames. Sometimes, old treasure hoards are infested with them, and the first glimpse you get of the "glittering" weapons is a pile of rusted swords encrusted with these thin silvery insects.