0 Comments
0 Shares
0 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Distant MachineThe rain had not stopped for three days, turning the cobblestones of St. Jude’s into slick, black mirrors that reflected the grey, weeping sky above, and I found myself standing in the nave with a broken mirror shard tucked securely into the lining of my coat, my heart beating a frantic, arrhythmic counterpoint to the slow, heavy tolling of the cathedral bells. I was the new inquisitor, or so...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful GridThe iron clanking against the stone was the only sound that mattered, a rhythmic, metallic heartbeat that drove through the mist of the valley. Elara did not look back at the shadow that followed her, nor did she look down at the tattered hem of her cloak, which trailed in the mud like a wound. She was running, her lungs burning with the cold, thin air of the Highlands, and in her hand she...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale MeridianThe boiler in the basement of the Sterling Palace had been singing for three days, a low, guttural moan that vibrated through the floorboards of the east wing and settled in the teeth of anyone who walked the corridors. Elias Thorne, a man whose hands were perpetually stained with grease and whose mind was a tangle of copper wire and debt, stood before the main pressure gauge. The needle was...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded PortraitThe roof collapsed. It did not fall with a roar. It fell with a sigh. A long, dry exhalation of timber and dust. I stood in the center of the hall. My father was gone. The beams were gone. The house was gone. Only the foundation remained. I am Thomas. I am the son. I am the keeper of the silence. The fire was not a fire. It was an audit. It was a judgment. It was the law arriving in the night,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful LetterThe rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a grey, heavy curtain that turned the stone walls of the Keep into mirrors of wet slate. Sir Alaric stood before the great oak table, his hands trembling not from the cold that seeped through his woolen doublet, but from the weight of the silence that had settled over the hall. Opposite him sat Lord Vane, a man whose smile was as sharp and...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden ScarYou wake up with the taste of copper and ash on your tongue. It is the taste of the rations. The nutrient paste that the System dispenses to keep your body functional enough to work the data mines. You open your mouth to spit it out, but your muscles have forgotten how to rebel. They only know compliance. You are in a white room. The walls hum. The air is recycled, sterile, and cold. You are...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant JourneyThe rain was a gray sheet. It fell hard. It beat on the glass. I watched it. I sat in the back. The car moved. The city blurred. I looked at my hand. It was still. It was pale. I closed my eyes. I remembered. It began with a look. A woman looked at me. She stood by the gate. Her eyes were cold. They cut me. She knew. She knew what I was. I was a ghost. I was a shadow. I walked away. I felt the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden OathThe air in the foundry tasted of sulfur and burnt ambition, a thick, metallic fog that clung to the back of your throat and settled in the lungs like lead shot, so that when you opened your mouth to speak, the words came out hollow, stripped of their human warmth by the sheer industrial violence of the space. You stood before the Great Crucible, that molten heart of the factory, watching the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded SutraThe bone breaks. It snaps clean. You hear it. A wet crack. Like ice on a lake. Your left hand is in the air. It is not your hand anymore. It is a thing. A broken thing. You look at it. The skin is white. The knuckles are bent wrong. You are in the room. The glass room. The HR office. The walls are beige. The light is flat. It hurts. A hot pain. It moves up your arm. It hits your shoulder. It...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek