Original Fiction

Building a city on a sleeping god means being ready, always, for the end. But that’s not remarkable, really. If this god ever peels its body up from under the…

No one else would ever know that he had screamed. It was no comfort. The pain came from every side as he screamed, the jaws came, and that was no…

They came in silent twos and threes, drawn by the smell of blood and runework. Yet he could sense them, even with his eyes squeezed shut. The feeling of being…

He started the preparations three hours before sunset, but still barely finished before dark stretched through the forest. He hadn’t accounted for the shaking in his hands. Hadn’t admitted, before…

The best thing he could have done for anyone was sleep. Gather his strength for when the alarm bell would ring in the morning. But knowing it was coming, knowing…

Never take another shape too long, they said. Never long enough to need what it does. Needs shape a thing more than flesh and bone, after all. Needs mould a…

Killing people for a living wasn’t noble, of course. He’d met a few who made the same living and tried to insist it was, and the last person they usually…

When his brother swung wide and the opening was there, the throat bared, he had to take his chance. He had come into that fight, that sacred circle, weaker but…

How long is a blink? We use it to describe practically no time at all, but if you add them up, day after day after day, you start to see…

It had been eight years, six months, and three days since she had last stood on the porch of her childhood home. If it had been eight years, six months,…