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The Distant PromiseYou dream of the ink. It is not black, but the deep, bruised purple of a night sky seen through old glass. It runs from your fingers, a thick, viscous tide that pools on the floorboards of the old hall. You try to stop it, but the seal is broken. The words are leaking out of you. This is the house of Lord Ashworth. It is ancient, a thing of stone and shadow, standing on the cliffs where the sea...0 Comments 0 Shares 55 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded RiverThe rain against the window of the precinct station was not water, it was a static charge, a white noise that blurred the line between the street and the glass. I sat in my chair, the vinyl cracked along the armrests, and watched the drop smear down the pane. It was a Tuesday. I knew this because the clock on the wall, the one with the second hand that skipped every third tick, had not yet...0 Comments 0 Shares 53 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded FrequencyThe rain had not ceased in three days, a relentless, gray curtain that blurred the edges of the world and turned the mud of the lowlands into a sucking pit for any boot that dared to tread upon it. I wrote these words by the light of a tallow candle, the flame trembling in the draft that seeped through the chinks of the old manor’s walls, a light that barely pushed back the encroaching dark. My...0 Comments 0 Shares 59 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden CircuitThe ink was still wet when the letter began to bleed. It started as a smear. A dark, oily streak across the page. Like a bruise. Like a wound that refused to close. Arthur Thorne wiped his brow. His hand shook. He pressed the back of his fingers against the paper. The ink spread. It ate the words. It ate the truth. He was not a doctor. He was a man in a white coat. He worked in the basement of...0 Comments 0 Shares 49 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded ShieldThe rain on the tin roof of the processing plant was a relentless, rhythmic drumming that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of your bones, a sound that had become the only true thing left in a world that was slowly dissolving into gray mist and rusted iron, and you stood there with your back against the cold, damp wall, watching the water run in jagged, frantic lines down the corrugated sheets,...0 Comments 0 Shares 55 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded AlibiThe rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the slate roof of the tower, a relentless, hollow rhythm that sounded like the beating of a dying heart. I sat in the high chair, my hands folded in my lap. They were clean. They had been scrubbed with lye and pumice until the skin was raw and red. But I could still feel the wetness of it. The blood. It was a phantom sensation, a ghost...0 Comments 0 Shares 60 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded FrequencyThe letter lies open on the oak desk, the ink still wet, smelling of iron and rain. You hold the quill in your right hand, the knuckles white, the joints swollen with the stiffness that has plagued you since the siege of York. You are writing to the Lord Chancellor, but you are not writing to him. You are writing to the mirror that stands in the corner of this cold stone chamber, the one that...0 Comments 0 Shares 50 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded BouquetThe hall smelled of wax and old blood. You stood at the edge of the floor, your hands still damp from the champagne flutes you had carried. The air was thick with the hum of three hundred voices, a low, buzzing drone that vibrated in your teeth. It was a feast, but not one for you. You were the weapon, kept in the sheath, polished and silent while the masters toasted to their own longevity. You...0 Comments 0 Shares 52 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful ThroneThe rain had been falling for three days, a steady, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the courtyard into dark, slick mirrors. Inside the hall of the old Ashworth estate, the air was thick with the smell of wet wool, coal smoke, and the metallic tang of old blood that never quite washed out of the floorboards. Silas Vane stood by the large, leaded window, his hands resting on the cold...0 Comments 0 Shares 50 Views 0 Reviews
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