Ode to VarunaFor the longest time, it thinks that something's wrong with it.Ode to Varuna4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
For an even longer time after that, it knows that something's wrong with it.
It realizes that the days are too short and yet too long at the same time. While the hours of sunlight and light yellow skies are fewer now than ever before, they seem to stretch on forever, florescent blue blending with the thick blue smear of polluted night until neither can be distinguished from one another. The buildings shine eternally with a glaring, clinical light that cleans away the darkness and bleaches the day, scrubbing away at both so that nothing remains but an eternal cubicle cleanliness, an eternal lack of lacking, an eternal feeling that everything is revealed and that nothing can lurk out of sight and strike, drive murky claws of doubt and primal impulse into its modernized core, its technology, its survival. Holoscreens and digital clocks serve to remind it and its people of the time, the date, the schedule, but in
Play That GameThis. Sucked.Play That Game4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Veser stood inside the shelter of the building, arms crossed. In front of him, staring him down, all angry blue lights and sleek metal pulsing with cold heat, was a vending machine. It hummed at him, volume rising and falling with the pulsing lights, like breathing. Like it was alive, a metallic dragon guarding a hoard of good just inside the clear casing, breathing heavily, hot air seeping from under its bulk as it rested there, it's tail a mighty black cord that disappeared into the wall to keep people like Veser from unplugging the machine, cracking the locks, which while plugged in were locked with not only regular locks but super magnets as well, and plundering the goods for free.
Veser growled. If only it were that easy.
Or, if only the thing decided Veser's money was good enough. Apparently, it wasn't. He'd actually tried to obey the rules, for once, to try and use actual money and pay for the candy so he could slap a bow on it for Hanna's Christmas present, since
Ka-chunkThe feeling of a single tooth puncturing flesh; the clean ka-chunk as hard, pointed enamel encasing long-dead marrow drives down, driven by some hundred-odd pounds-per-square-inch of pressure as it punctures supple skin. It's hypodermic, cleaner than the ripping and tearing he'd been raised by government propaganda to dread, much cleaner than anything he's ever imagined it to be. It's even easier than biting through the tough plastic of the blood bags; it's swift and piercing and oh god, the blood, it's going to get everywhere but he doesn't mind, he doesn't mind at all. In fact, in fact oh goddamn it what is he doing? it's something he can get used to.Ka-chunk4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Conrad reels, mind fleetingly shifting from the squirming in his mouth, real and concentrated, to the blurred movement and muffled noise surrounding him. Foreign, everything comes to him sluggishly, snagged in the deep-rooted satisfaction that seems to have sprung like an erection to the
Everything would be alright.With the last of his strength the vampire reached up and tugged the small piece of technology out of his ear, crushing it with a final squeeze of his pale fist. Then he collapsed against the floor, frame quivering, insides aching as the serum continued to infect him. A faint smile traced his face as he listened to Hanna's shouts fade away.Everything would be alright.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Hanna had escaped. The information had gone with him. They wouldn't be able to trace his communicator back to the resistance. Everything would be all right.
He was so focused on this that he didn't notice the footsteps echoing through the air, drawing closer to him. He did notice the feel of a gun barrel pressing against the back of his head, a foreboding click and hum ringing through the sudden silence of the labs.
"Checkmate, Mr. Achenleck."
Even if Conrad had had the strength to turn around and stare his attacker in the face, he wouldn't have; shards of icy coldness worked their way into his skin no, his muscles no, the ind
Lightspiral: Eli -- SPOILERSIt was night, or what passed for it when the sky was continually lit with the same sickly green-grey light, the color of rotting flesh. He wasn't asleep, but it might have been better if he had been.Lightspiral: Eli -- SPOILERS4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He didn't scream when it happened, although he would have when he felt something change inside him in a way that it never, ever should have, breaking and snapping and tearing until he didn't know who he was anymore, or where he was, or anything but that something was very very wrong and he couldn't do anything about it. He didn't scream, because he couldn't.
He was up and moving, but he wasn't; he hadn't told his body to move, there was no conscious signal from his brain to his legs telling him to stand and walk, and he knew where he was going, don't, stop, please!
Hanna stirred as he entered the room, looking up"Muh? Eli? What're you" and then he grabbed the redhead by the throat, hurling him out the window violently, but it wasn't him, he wasn
I'll Tell It Like It Happened"I call shotgun!" Hanna squealed gleefully, stopping near the front passenger door of the car that flashed its headlights twice as Conrad unlocked the driver's door remotely. "Unless you want it, Apollo, 'cos I can sit in the back if you want the front."I'll Tell It Like It Happened5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"I would rather you sit in the back," Conrad said crossly, although Hanna appeared not to notice. He pulled his own door open, greeted by slightly coffee-scented air, then settled in the driver's seat and leaned over to unlock Hanna's side before stopping belatedly with his hand over the switch. "Hey, no, wait. Why the hell am I chauffeuring you and the dead guy?"
"Well, I don't have a car, and I can't exactly afford a taxi, yanno. Not as far out as I need to go, and anyways, road trips are more fun when you have friends along!" Hanna replied, leaning down and practically pressing his face against the glass; Conrad recoiled in horror, probably at the thought of having to clean the damn thing off, and groaned aloud.
Hadn't NoticedVeser didn't care.Hadn't Noticed4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Nope, he didn't care at all.
He'd been talking to Ples, trying to worm some booze out of the guy while also trying to ignore the way that the guy just had to stammer with every sentence it was really funny, almost like he was one of those chicks from high school that he never got to hook up with, and since it made him feel a lot better about paying attention to a guy's stutter it was actually pretty okay, y'know, considering and the old rotary phone sitting in the corner of the room had begun to ring, cutting into the constant sound of the clocks and their conversation with its loud, buzzing tone. Veser hadn't really cared much that someone was calling at the time Ples was an accountant or something like that, wasn't he? It was probably just some fancy-ass businessman asking about their checkbook or whatever and he barely noticed the way that Ples's eyes seemed to light up like old-fashioned gas lanterns, the glasses glinting with a
The Madness of VampiresHe was hungry.The Madness of Vampires4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It burned inside him, twisting his stomach into a knotted bunch and pulling his already ill-fitting skin tight across his bones. Muscles popped and creaked when he moved, veins and arteries rippled like snakes beneath pale flesh, pained whimpers stuck in his throat, and that hunger persisted.
Conrad rolled over, tangled in his sheets, icy breath rasping in his lungs. His dark eyes were fogged with his desire to feed as he stared at the wall of his bedroom. He hadn't eaten in almost two days; too busy with things like commissions, chasing Hanna out his condo before the redhead could drag him off on some stupid adventure, and suffering through at least two different four hour phone conversations (lectures?) with his mother.
And now he was starving but he couldn't go out to the kitchen because he'd forgotten to close the curtains last night and the sun was blazing its way merrily across the sky. That full moon last night had been lovely, even in the city, and even though Co
Up in Smoke -3-Up in Smoke -3-4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
In which Hanna has a whole sub plot and Conrad figures something out.
Warning: epic speeches and exposition, mostly.
The road has a mind of its own.
That's just a bloody stupid way of saying that some things are bound unravel a certain way, no matter how bad you fight it. Some things have to be dealt with sooner or later.
Worth figured that out somewhere along the way. Too many nights of trying not to look up at the stars, trying not to get sucked back into let's-remember, too many times when his heart jumpstarted like an electrocuted engine and he had to pretend that the first thought in his head hadn't been can't lose him too.
The road doesn't like lies.
That's just a bloody stupid way of saying that the truth is gonna out, one way or another, if you spend long enough trying to ignore it. But still.
The road demands to be acknowledged.
It was three o'clock in the morning, and Worth had the window rolled down as they raced through tiny streets, where sprin
Do Not OpenDo Not Open4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He's seen a lot of things. He's heard of a lot of things.
Things that you wouldn't believe.
He'd be lying if he said that he hasn't been involved in some strange stuff over the years; not many people in their right minds try to get their hands on holy relics, mermaid's hair, hemlock, or human blood on a regular basis, and he knows by now from experience, not that you really want to know much more than that that not many normal people are interested in selling them, either. No, in order to get what his clients desire he's had to go to some pretty odd places, meet some pretty odd people, and learn some pretty odd facts. It's all paid off, in the end, and it's the main reason or one of them, really for why he is where he is now. It's just another aspect of the job to him, like his car or the cardboard boxes that always fill the back of it, like bills and rent and all the little mundane things that make up his otherwise unusual life. It's something that he's got
Crash. the girls clip-clop in their glitter heels andCrash.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
the neon burns away the night.
every lost child smudged shadow torn
tights bleary and dazed staggering at
First Breaths IHe'd thought it was a fucking raccoon.First Breaths I4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It was a pretty safe assumption, really. Doc Worth tended to get all sorts of critters in his neck of the concrete woods, and apparently such creatures had no fear when it came to used needles. If it wasn't that, he'd assumed it was one of his junkies. After all, he had more than enough who were ridiculously desperate, and that was the only reason he could think of that anyone would be willing to visit his alley in such a torrential downpour.
What he hadn't expected was the sight of a boy collapsed amongst his trash cans, blood flowing into growing puddles from gaping wounds, his cries of agony nearly lost to the storm.
Well, fuck. All he'd wanted to do that night was watch fucking Lost while his TV was in some semblance of a working condition. He'd briefly considered just leaving the kid and doing just that, but unfortunately he had some sense of professionalism when it came to his job.
That and the kid was yelling so much, he probably wou