fantasy
Valley of Arachnids – Short Story
We marched on a never-ending road of broken minds and callused feet. Our weapons were rusted with the yellow blood of the arachnids, borrowed swords from failed campaigns into enemy territory. Several battalions of King Henry’s army, hundreds in number, left the city of Minora seven fortnights ago but the journey felt like seven years. We marched with frayed minds to the inevitable conclusion of the destruction of the arachnids and our possible death Read More
Thunder Rider – Digital Art
Haunted Wet Dreams – Series – Part Four
Darkness faded from a pinhole of distant light. Night, in a living room of an old house. I found that I was standing, appreciative of the fact that I was fully clothed. The windows were the only source of illumination from the moon outside. The house itself was not extraordinary. A couch covered in cobwebs, old in style with leather buttons, sat lifeless and dead in the main room, close to a piano shrouded in transparent cotton. Otherwise the place was tidy. I imagined an older couple had lived here before it was abandoned Read More
Forever Alone – Short Story
I could still feel the crystals laying on my eyes even when they weren’t there. Where did the damn things go? They must’ve rolled off during the night, fallen off the sheets. I knew I should never have believed that holistic shopkeeper. She was more gypsy hag than a proprietor but the prospect of using crystals to deal with my depression, other than psychoactive drugs was less expensive and less harmful Read More
Dragonhead – Digital Art
Haunted Wet Dreams – Series – Part Three
The sticky substance expelled from my throat like a torrent. Visions began again. This time I was prepared for them, knowing that although the pain might have felt real they were only dreams and they wouldn’t leave any lasting damage, other than the quick tearing of the Band-Aid from my mind. My fingers covered my mouth, trying to hide my shame but the substance pushed them away, my eyes watered, and my arms were pulled back behind me, from my own…stomach bile Read More
Magical Apothecary – Digital Art
Quulon: Path to Divine Deception – Short Story
“You’re not going to get it. The plague only affects people who believe in It.” said mother, her bangs tickled my face, hanging from the bonnet. She was trying to convince me that the farmers deserved to die, in their fields, in their homes, since believing in the plague was tantamount to blasphemy. “But mother,” I said, “should I be afraid of all my beliefs? Read More
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