Samuel Wilson

Samuel Wilson added blog Dance
2026-05-31 10:41:41 -

Leash-and-Rust
Leash & Rust Act I The dog was old and the town was older and neither of them cared much about being anywhere they weren't supposed to be. Ruth McKenna found Stray behind the abandoned warehouse on Third Street, where the chain-link fences had given up and the grass had grown so high it looked like it was trying to hide something. The dog was a mutt of some kind—part something that ran fast,...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Games
2026-05-30 03:10:46 -

THE KEEPER OF THE STACKS
ACT ONE: THE EXPLOSION Arthur Winslow restored books for thirty-one years and had never finished a sentence without wondering, at some point, whether the words meant what they were supposed to mean. He worked in the basement of the New York Public Library on 42nd Street, in a room that smelled of glue and aging paper and the particular sadness of things that have been read too many times. His...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Games
2026-05-30 21:26:28 -

THE LAST WALL
The stone was cold beneath Edward's gloved hands. He ran his palm along the face of it, feeling for the cracks his predecessors had spent a thousand years cataloguing. There were none today. The wall held. It always held. Edward Blackthorne, seventieth Lord Keeper of the Morvayne Ramparts, walked the parapet at midnight, as he had every night for twelve years. The moon was a sliver of bone in a...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Literature
2026-05-29 16:04:34 -

The Last Definition of Light
The bunker was a concrete throat, swallowing the last remnants of a dying world. Outside, the radiation had turned the atmosphere into a shimmering, toxic veil. Inside, the air tasted of recycled sweat and ozone. Soren was the Archivist. He was the only one left who knew how to read the old books, the ones made of paper and ink. He lived in the lowest level, where the temperature was a...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Literature
2026-06-02 04:16:36 -

The Archipelago of Mirrors
The Azure Isles were a paradise of sapphire waters and white sands, but the beauty was a mask for a predatory political ecosystem. The islands were governed by the 'Council of Seven,' a group of oligarchs who maintained power by keeping the various castes in a state of perpetual, low-level conflict. Julian arrived as the leader of the 'Void-Born,' a collection of political exiles and disgraced...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Games
2026-05-29 11:59:31 -

The Big Tooth Protocol
ACT I: THE RISING It arrived on a Tuesday in October, which was annoying, because Tuesdays were the worst days for apocalypses. You wanted an apocalypse on a Friday when people were already in a bad mood, or a Monday morning when there was maximum disruption. A Tuesday was just inconvenient. Sarah Watkins was in her office at the White House when the call came through. She was forty-one, the...

0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Literature
2026-05-25 17:08:01 -

The Iron Price of Power
Act I: The Gutter's Gift Silas lived in the soot-stained alleys of Manchester, 1842, where the air tasted of coal and the children looked like old men. He was a scavenger, a ghost of the industrial machine, until he found the "Vanguard Protocol"—a series of forbidden exercises and dietary regimens left behind by a disgraced military surgeon. The Protocol promised a transcendence of the flesh: a...

0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Dance
2026-05-26 18:29:22 -

The Minimalist
The MinimalistAct IThe grocery store was open at 11 PM because in Cleveland, nothing closes. Not even hope, apparently. It just runs on different hours.Kate Madsen stood in aisle seven holding the cheapest wine they carried and a bag of frozen dumplings that cost $2.49. She had been a journalist once—real journalism, bylines and deadlines and the kind of writing that made people think. Then the...

0 Comments 0 Shares 7 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Dance
2026-05-29 08:01:12 -

ACT I - The Beginning
ACT I - The Beginning The gap appeared on a Thursday, which was unremarkable except that Thursdays were when Dr. Rebecca Stone reviewed her case notes and that Thursday, she found a blank space in her own timeline. It was small, perhaps four hours, between 10 PM and 2 AM on the night of the eleventh. She had written nothing. She had remembered nothing. She had eaten dinner at 7 PM, taken a...

0 Comments 0 Shares 5 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Dance
2026-05-30 01:47:14 -

Sweet Nothings
It was a Tuesday when Vera Santos first noticed the money trail, and she noticed it the way she noticed everything -- with the quiet, methodical attention of someone who had learned that the world would not hand you the truth. You had to look for it, and look carefully, and be willing to see what you did not want to see. She worked the pastry station at Le Jardin, a three-Michelin-star...

0 Comments 0 Shares 7 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Games
2026-05-23 18:58:06 -

Nothing to Deliver
The Ford was twenty years old and sounded like it. Every time Mike Donovan turned the steering wheel, the dashboard made a clicking noise, like a tooth with a cavity tapping against something hard. He had been meaning to fix it for three years. He never did. Mike was thirty-four, lived in a one-room apartment on South Halsted for six hundred dollars a month, and drove for a company called...

0 Comments 0 Shares 6 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!
Samuel Wilson added blog Games
2026-06-01 02:36:34 -

The Keeper of the Iron Ring
The archive room smelled of damp paper and something older—ozone, perhaps, or the metallic tang of a atmosphere that had been recycled ten thousand times. Arthur Penhaligon ran his gloved fingers along the edge of a data crystal and felt nothing. Nothing, and that was the problem. He had been seventeen standard cycles when the Iron Ring had taken him in. Before that, he remembered a blue sky...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews

Please log in to like, share and comment!