Tag Archives: fiction
A little less alone
Fresh from the kill she stumbles forward, mind racing, blood rushing, hands trembling, knees weak. First one, and it makes something in her stomach lurch, something in her heart break. It will be that way the next time, and the … Continue reading
The Final Tear
“So help me–” he began, his voice cutting through the dim, rancid air that seems to have settled. He spoke, and her heart stuttered. Oh, the world stuttered. (Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly–) A flutter of fire, a fractaling explosion of … Continue reading
Countdown
What if it isn’t really her? It doesn’t matter. What if it isn’t really him? It doesn’t matter, she tells herself. It never matters. It’s never mattered. It is him. She can feel it. Five… I don’t know if you … Continue reading
Hear Me
She bumps into a passer by, long fingers grabbing a wallet. It happens eight more times before she feels like she’s got enough cash to fund food. Dumpster diving often finds a rather startling amount of good eats, but she’s … Continue reading
The Music Box
Everything was pain. (Before the black night moves again) She knew that, now. Everything was pain, and it had been pain, and it was going to be pain, forever and ever, amen. She could not see him, anymore; her eyes … Continue reading