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10/07/1995
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The Dreamer at Blackwood ManorThe rain had been falling on Yorkshire for three days when Edmund Ashworth arrived at Blackwood Manor. The letter from his solicitor had been brief: Lord Harrington had agreed to let him stay until matters were resolved. Edmund did not ask what matters. He was twenty-four, broke, and tired of London. The moors called to him in a way the city never had. Blackwood Manor stood at the edge of a...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 ReviewsPlease log in to like, share and comment!
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The Zero-Point CollapseThe facility was called "The Needle," a spire of white ceramic and superconducting magnets that pierced the clouds of a dying world. Inside, Dr. Julian Thorne was attempting the impossible: the extraction of energy from the zero-point field. He believed that if he could tap into the fundamental vacuum of space, he could provide infinite energy to a starving planet. Julian was a man of absolute...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Cat of Whispering OaksWhispering Oaks was a town that had forgotten why it existed. The cotton fields were overgrown. The main street had six businesses and three of them were closed. The cypress trees lined the roads like soldiers who had been dismissed but ordered to remain at their posts. Silas Beauregard lived in the big house at the end of Magnolia Lane. Nobody remembered when the house was built. Nobody...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Chronos Monolith(Act I: Initiation) The sky of Epsilon-Prime was a bruised purple, striated with veins of emerald lightning that never touched the ground. For three centuries, the colonists of the New Reach had lived in the shadow of the Monolith—a slab of non-reflective, absolute black material that spanned a hundred kilometers in height, humming with a frequency that could be felt in the marrow of one's...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
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THE DRY STATICACT I: THE BOOT (20%) The boot was a left foot. Size nine. Leather, cracked at the ankle, the toe scuffed from walking over things that weren't pavement. Billy found it on Day 1, in the dust in front of a building that used to be a shop. He picked it up, turned it over in his hands, put it in his pack. He didn't know why. It was just a boot. But it was a boot with a story, and Billy liked...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
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The Vineyard's Bitter HarvestThe Vineyard's Bitter Harvest I. The rain had been falling for three days when Eleanor Hartwell arrived at Blackwood Manor. She stepped from the hired carriage with a leather portfolio clutched to her chest and mud caking her boots. The manor rose before her like a wounded beast—towers darkened by centuries of soot, windows shattered and boarded, ivy choking the stone walls as though the...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
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The Shadow in the BellACT I: THE CASE Jack Morrisey had been a detective for twenty-two years and a drunk for eighteen. The math was simple: he started drinking the day his partner died in Brooklyn, and he had kept drinking ever since because stopping meant remembering why his partner had died in the first place. Hawkeye was the only thing that had kept him sober for the last six months. A German shepherd, nine...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
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The Probability of PuppetsAct 1: The Surge The trade was executed at 10:02:41 AM. Julian didn't look at the screen; he didn't need to. He could feel the shift in the market's breath, a subtle ripple in the global flow of capital that signaled a crash in the yen and a surge in rare earth minerals. He had just made forty million dollars in a heartbeat, but he felt nothing but a cold, clinical satisfaction. Julian was a...0 Comments 0 Shares 5 Views 0 Reviews
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The Empire of FleshM'bundu stood in the courtyard of the Evolution Station and watched the other "experiments" work in the fields. They were stronger than the other Congolese men—lifting twice the sacks of cotton, clearing twice the land in the same time. But their bodies were also changing. One man's arm had grown an extra joint at the elbow. Another's eyes had turned completely black, no whites, no pupils. Just...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
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The Inheritance Of OakhavenThe Inheritance of Oakhaven Act I The road to Oakhaven did not so much end as dissolve, as though the earth itself had decided it was tired of pretending there was a destination. Caleb Reeves drove his car the last three miles on tires that had given up two seasons ago, watching the pavement fracture into dirt and the dirt soften into something that might have been a road in a previous...0 Comments 0 Shares 6 Views 0 Reviews
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The Miller HouseMary O'Brien was fifteen when her hands were cut. It was not dramatic. It was not cinematic. It was not the kind of thing that makes it into newspapers or gets talked about at church socials or becomes the subject of a story told at family dinners for generations. It was a quiet afternoon in October, in a neighborhood in Brooklyn where the brownstones were the color of dried blood and the...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
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The factory had been quiet for six months. Ray McCullough knew the sound of quiet factories. He had worked in three of them before they all went quiet. The sound was like a hospital—people stopped talHis bank account had $342.17. His daughter's medical bills were $8,000 a month. His wife worked double shifts at the hospital and still came home crying. His son had stopped answering his phone. Ray picked up the phone and dialed the number Sergeant Okafor had given him six months ago. "I need the job," he said. "You sure, Ray? It ain't gonna be pretty." "I got a daughter with cancer. Pretty...0 Comments 0 Shares 10 Views 0 Reviews
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