-
153 المنشورات
-
0 الصور
-
0 الفيديوهات
-
Male
-
07/01/1998
-
متابَع بواسطة 0 أشخاص
التحديثات الأخيرة
-
The Glass AbacusThe Glass Abacus The fog in London did not descend so much as it rose—from the Thames, from the streets, from the lungs of a million people breathing coal smoke and giving up. It made everything look as though the world were being erased from the bottom up. Lady Eleanor Ashworth watched it from her bedroom window on a Tuesday in November 1888 and counted the gas lamps visible through the...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 0 مشاهدة 0 معاينةالرجاء تسجيل الدخول , للأعجاب والمشاركة والتعليق على هذا!
-
Sample V-07: The Covenant of Dust(Style B2: Southern Gothic) **Act I: The Awakening** The Blackwood Estate was a monument to rot. Moss climbed the pillars like slow-motion fire, and the air tasted of damp earth and old sins. Silas, the last of the Blackwood line, returned to the manor with a suitcase full of legal documents and a heart full of spite. He had been cast out as a child, and now he had come to reclaim his...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 0 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
-
The Messenger of Route 61The sound came to Elias at three in the morning, the way sound always did: not as a voice, exactly, but as a pressure behind his eyes, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks, when the air goes still and the birds stop singing and you know something is coming that you cannot name and cannot stop. He was nineteen years old and lying on a mattress on the floor of a barn that had once been...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 2 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
-
The Engine of HeavenI was born in the braking age, when the sky turned the colour of burnt copper and the sea began to climb the cliffs. My name is Thomas Blackwood, and I was the youngest engineer on the Prometheus Wheel project. We were three hundred and forty-seven souls working in the Scottish highlands, in a valley that had once been known as Glen Moriston. The valley no longer existed. In its place was a...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 9 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
-
The Lightning CurseThe lightning had always been different over Lightning Manor. Not in color or intensity—Mississippi lightning was Mississippi lightning, bright and violent and smelling of ozone. But Cecilia Faulkner had always felt something different about it. Something that lived in the space between the flash and the thunder, in the fraction of a second when the world was neither dark nor light.She was...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 14 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
-
Title: The Symphony of the Void(Act I: The Spark) The basement of the brownstone on 57th Street was a cathedral of chalk and desperation. In the center of the room, Julian sat cross-legged on a Persian rug, surrounded by a dozen young men whose eyes burned with a fever that had nothing to do with the humid New York summer. Julian was not a teacher in any formal sense; he was a man who had seen the blueprint of the universe...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 3 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
-
The Patient from BelowDr. Evelyn Blackwood had been treating soldiers for fourteen months when she began to suspect that the war was happening inside their heads. The facility was a converted country estate outside New Carthage, all white corridors and padded rooms and the faint smell of carbolic and iodine. It housed the military's most difficult cases: men and women who had been brought back from the front lines...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 12 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
-
The Instant ErasureThe celebration was the loudest event in human history. Every speaker in every subterranean city was blasting the same anthem of victory. The "Arrival" had begun. "Five minutes to orbital insertion!" the announcer screamed, his voice cracking with emotion. In the Central Plaza of F112, millions of people were hugging, weeping, and dancing. They could see it now—the golden orb of Proxima...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 11 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
-
The Stone in the RiverThe convenience store on South Halsted Street opened at six in the morning and closed at midnight, except on holidays when it opened at eight and closed at ten, except when Frank Miller was working, in which case the hours seemed to stretch into something that had nothing to do with time and everything to do with waiting for something that would never come. Frank was forty-one. He had been a...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 15 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
-
Labyrinth of Fragments(V-12: Gothic Horror/Poetic) The city of Ouroboros did not exist on any map. It was a sprawling, impossible architecture of obsidian spires and floating bridges, a place where the sky was a bruised purple and the rain fell upwards. I woke up in the center of the Great Plaza, my memories a shattered mirror, my identity a handful of dust. I was Kael, or so the silver coin in my pocket told me. I...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 18 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
-
The Midnight DetectiveThe Midnight Detective Act I — The Alley Jack Malone woke up on his back in an alley behind a restaurant on Mulberry Street, rain falling through a gap between the buildings like a thin white ceiling, and the first thing he noticed was that his knuckles were split and bleeding. The second thing he noticed was the key in his coat pocket, brass, with a number stamped on its bow: 4B. He stood...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 14 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
-
Still Drifting## Act I The bottle was plastic. Blue, dented, the kind you'd buy at a gas station for a dollar and fill with beer. Mike Kowalski found it on the shore of the abandoned marina where the Cuyahoga River met the lake, and he picked it up out of habit more than anything else. His hands were shaking—not from withdrawal, not anymore, he'd been sober for three weeks, just from the cold. Ohio in...0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 17 مشاهدة 0 معاينة
المزيد من المنشورات