i'll write a book. eventually. some day. for now, I'm here to experiment with my style, get the creative juices flowing, and have fun! feedback and comments are greatly appreciated, so please don't feel shy! she/her
i'll write a book. eventually. some day. for now, I'm here to experiment with my style, get the creative juices flowing, and have fun! feedback and comments are greatly appreciated, so please don't feel shy! she/her
Beyond the gilded throne, she stood: opulence personified in her cloak of flowing silk, the royal colour purple. The hood, drawn over her head, obscured her face.
“Shadow Empress of Ka’ilai,” I spat. On my back, the twisted scythe hung from its tattered belt. It groaned as I grasped its hilt, its ancient voice vibrating up my arm, through my chest, as it anticipated the blood it knew would soon ...
Aligned with
But flora. But which flora
consumes flesh in a detritivorous manner?
Do florae possess a destiny to conquer?
Ebeneous upon thy damp walls, I
flourish with the absence of light;
growing, rapidly, I poison the air, thy lungs.
Hiant: An
insidious black hole, oozing pus of
jaundice yellow. Born with a
kismet to devour; a promise, to
labefactate. I am the
maggotorium, upon thy wall...
“Everest,” Tim said.
“What?”
“You asked, before,” he explained. “What my favourite death was. It was Everest.”
Nola rolled her eyes. She remembered Everest. “Why are you telling me this all of a sudden?”
“You ever reached the death zone?” Tim asked instead.
She scoffed. “Of course I have; I was the one who recovered your fuckin’ body.”
Tim laughed. “They say the altitude does things to...
Beaten, he slowly raised his hands, dropping his empty pistols in a sarcastic show of surrender.
Beside him, his metal mask laid shattered on the flooding pavement. He’d left his domino at the safe house.
Goddamn that Junior, but his plans always worked.
“…Mason?” Catman asked, his guard thrown off. Vulnerable, now, to attack.
Catman was so shocked, however, that he forgot to mask his voic...
As his his hands tightened around my neck, unable to breathe, I knew I about to die.
I clawed desperately at his gloved hands, hoping for just a breath, a chance at life.
Choked to death by Plubby the Clown; I couldn’t accept that.
As my vision began to blur, I thought, if Plubby wants to kill me, he’ll have to fight me first.
Plubby was close enough that I could feel his putrid breath on ...
It’s voice, withered and grey, spoke from the darkness of my backseat, four simple words: “It was your fault.”
In the rear view mirror, a face in the dark stared back at mine.
I’ve long learnt to live with It.
I watched the children as they ran about the street that night; it was halloween, and the whole neighbourhood was celebrating. There was the warm glow of home-made jack-o-lanterns; the...