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The Devil's Script
Act I: The Spark
Jack Morrison died the way he lived: in a lie.
It was 1957, and he was...
Her name was Forgetting
The fog in November 1888 was not like ordinary fog. It was a living thing, a grey beast that...
The Dark Domain Code
The warehouse on South Halsted Street smelled of rust and old rain, the kind of place where light...
Arthur Windsor did not sleep so much as he surrendered—surrendered, that is, to whatever force or madness or chemical imbalance had taken up residence in the space behind his eyes and made it its permanent address.
At twenty-eight, he was a gentleman of a declining aristocratic family, which in Victorian...
The Engineer
I.
The first time I met Marcus Chen, he told me the world was going to end in seventy-two hours....