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The Distant TempleYou wake with the taste of copper in your mouth, the metal tang of blood that has been swallowed and then rejected by the throat. You are in the break room of the Department of Anomalous Containment, a sterile white box that smells of ozone and burnt coffee. Your hands are shaking. They have been shaking for three days, ever since the incident in Sector Four, ever since you saw the thing that...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded PortraitThe road was a ribbon of mud stretching toward the horizon. Thomas walked. His boots were heavy. The leather had stiffened. It did not flex. It did not breathe. It held him. It held the world away. He carried a pack. Inside the pack was a coat. The coat was red. It was a deep, arterial red. It had been his wife’s. She had worn it in the hall. She had worn it by the fire. Now it was his. He had...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded MasqueradeThe glass shattered not with a crash, but with a sigh, a long, thin exhalation of light that scattered across the polished mahogany of the Grand Hall. Silas Vane stood in the center of the room, his hand still raised as if he had struck the air, holding the remnants of a mask that was no longer there. The mask had been porcelain, white as bone, painted with a smile that never reached the eyes....0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded ChronicleThe glass broke before the sun had fully cleared the rooftops of Harrowgate, a sound like a scream cut short, shattering the delicate silence of the mill town. It was not a window, nor a wine glass, but the mirror in the hallway of the boarding house, the one that had reflected Margaret’s face for twenty years. The shards scattered across the hardwood floor, a constellation of jagged teeth, and...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden CellarThe mortar lands in the trench behind you, shaking the earth so violently that the mud turns to liquid slate, and you stand there, your rifle raised, your heart a drum beaten by the rhythm of a war that has no end. You are a soldier, but not of this world, nor of the one you knew before the rain began to fall sideways. The air smells of ozone and crushed lavender, a scent that does not belong...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden CompassThe sky cracked open before dawn. It did not tear, but split, like a ripe fruit bursting under the weight of its own sweetness. The sound was a low, resonant hum, a vibration that settled in the teeth and the marrow. In the valley of Oakhaven, the mist rose not as vapor, but as solid, grey pillars. They stood still. They watched. Tomás sat on the porch of the apothecary. He was twelve years...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful VoyageThe frost bites. You shiver. The glass cracks. A spiderweb fracture spreads across the pane. You stare at it. You are cold. You are always cold. The library smells of damp wool and old paper. Your breath fogs. The fog clears. The cold remains. You are a scholar of the Void. That is your title. That is your lie. You study the spaces between things. The silence. The gap. You think you are safe in...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful DinnerThe hall smelled of roasted lamb and wet stone. It was a smell that clung to the teeth, thick and ancient. Margaret sat at the head of the table, though she did not feel like a head. She felt like a guest who had arrived too early and forgotten to leave. The candles flickered. Their light was amber, trapped in the heavy air. Around her, the guests ate. They laughed. The sound was sharp,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale VerdictThe rain does not fall. It hammers. It beats against the leather of your shield, a relentless, rhythmic pounding that matches the thud of your own heart. You are wet to the bone. The mud is thick, brown, and heavy, sucking at your boots with every step. You are holding the line. You are not alone, but you are isolated in the moment. To your left, a young recruit named Thomas is screaming, a...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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