Frank Hughes

Frank Hughes added blog Dance
2026-05-20 21:20:44 -

The bunker was under the cracked pavement behind the laundromat on East Grand River Avenue. Leo found it by accident, the way you find things in Flint when accident is the only mechanism left.
He was twelve. He lived with his grandmother on Tuesdays and Thursdays and his mother sent money on weekends when she could. The rest of the time he walked around the neighbourhood, which was walking around an emptiness that had been shaped into something resembling a place. The pavement was cracked because the ground had shifted. Something had moved underneath. Maybe roots. Maybe pipes. Maybe...

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Frank Hughes added blog Games
2026-05-30 02:35:39 -

STATIC
Act I -- The Static The radar screen was dark. Not the dark of a turned-off monitor. The dark of a monitor that had nothing to show. Jack Mercer sat in his chair at the forward operations center and stared at the blank screen. Around him, the desert base hummed with the sound of generators and frustration. Maps were spread across tables, paper maps from ten years ago, drawn before GPS and...

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Frank Hughes added blog Games
2026-06-02 06:06:13 -

The Starlight Broadcast
Long Island, New York, 1924 The jazz had stopped hours ago, but the music still played in my head, a faint echo of the saxophone that had drifted up from the cellar party below. I sat at my desk in the small laboratory my uncle had provided me, surrounded by chalkboards covered in equations that made no sense to anyone but me, and stared at the numbers on my notepad. They had not changed in...

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Frank Hughes added blog Literature
2026-05-26 07:53:02 -

The Obsidian Bond
In the neon-drenched sprawl of San Junipero, where the rain tasted of copper and the skyscrapers were laced with holographic vines, Julian lived in the "Low-Light"—the subterranean layers of the city where the sunlight was a paid subscription and the law was a suggestion. He was a "Splicer," a black-market surgeon who could weave synthetic nerves into organic flesh, turning broken people into...

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Frank Hughes added blog Games
2026-05-23 18:53:52 -

The Unlikely Immune
The grocery store owner died on a Monday. No one knew why. The doctor said heart attack. The coroner agreed. The store was closed on Tuesday. The shelves were empty by Wednesday. Bill Henderson heard about it at the bar. He drank a beer. He drank another. He went home. Another one died on Thursday. An old woman on Elm Street. She had been sick for months. Cancer, they said. But when she died,...

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2026-05-23 07:10:33 -

THE SALT SPRINGS REPORT
The order came through at 0600. Another town. Another mystery. Captain Shane Holt rolled out of the passenger seat of the Humvee and stared at Salt Springs. It wasn't really a town anymore. More like a collection of abandoned trailers and rusted oil pumps held together by dust and indifference. The New Mexico sky was the color of bruised metal. "Thirty-eight dead," Sergeant Kirk said from the...

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2026-05-27 14:40:35 -

Blood and Magnolias
I. The house was sinking. Not dramatically—there were no cracks in the foundation, no doors that stuck, no floors that tilted. It was a slower, more insidious descent, the kind that happens when the earth itself forgets what it is supposed to hold. Bell Thorne noticed it first in the garden. The magnolia trees, which her grandmother had planted in 1921, were flowering out of season. It was...

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2026-05-25 02:41:00 -

The Black Signal
I. The rain had been falling on Los Angeles for three days when Mrs. Voss walked into my office. She wore a black dress that cost more than my car and a look on her face that said she had already decided I was not going to help her. "My husband is dead," she said. "The police say it was an accident. I do not." I looked at her. She was beautiful in the way that beautiful women in Los Angeles...

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Frank Hughes added blog Literature
2026-05-24 19:15:06 -

The Ivory Horizon
The humidity of the Congo Basin was a physical weight, a damp shroud that clung to Colonel Alistair Finch's starch-collared tunic. It was 1884, and the map of Africa was being carved into jagged pieces by men in distant European parlors. Finch, a man of the Queen's service and a devotee of the Royal Geographical Society, was not interested in the carving; he was interested in the void. Finch...

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Frank Hughes added blog Literature
2026-05-26 12:02:26 -

The Architect of Silence
(Act I: The White Room) The Saint Jude Institute was a masterpiece of minimalist cruelty. Everything was white—the walls, the floors, the uniforms—designed to strip a human being of any sensory anchor. Elias lived in Room 402, but he ruled the entire East Wing. He didn't use violence; he used information. He knew who had a secret addiction, who missed their children, and who was terrified of...

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Frank Hughes added blog Games
2026-05-22 02:17:36 -

The Rising Water
I. The water came to the Thorneland plantation on a Thursday in June, which was wrong because the river did not flood in June. The river flooded in April, when the snow melted in the Appalachians and turned the Mississippi into a brown beast that ate its banks. June was for heat and cicadas and the slow decay of things that were once grand. But the river had decided otherwise. I am Bell Thorne....

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Frank Hughes added blog Games
2026-06-03 01:11:54 -

The Observatory of Lost Souls
The red shift was not an anomaly. It was a death sentence. Dr. Alistair Blackwood sat before the great telescope on the Yorkshire coast, his eyes burning from three nights of continuous observation. The brass instruments gleamed in the lamplight, their polished surfaces reflecting the storm that raged outside. Wind howled across the moor like a thing in pain. Rain lashed the observatory windows...

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