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.
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.
One day a a wind begins to blow out of the West. The next day it gets stronger. And stronger still the next few days. Eventually (and fortunately), the speed of the wind tops out at a steady fifty miles an hour, but continues to blow. Soon an entire kingdom is wondering why it's not abating. The weather mages deem it unnatural but can't seem to banish or control it. The priests of various faiths claim it's divine. The End-Of-Days crowd is having a field day with their predictions of doom. No one knows why the gale persists. When inquiring with neighboring kingdoms, it seems they too suffer from a persistent western mistral. Eventually the populace begins to adapt to living with a twenty four hour a day wind. Always from the West, and perpetual. What could be causing this? A raging Elemental king? a curse from the gods? an unearthed artifact? Or has Nature itself gone haywire?