A few short stories

An index of all my short stories published online. CLICK HERE

It was all a steady decline. The rate of the decline is up for debate, but what is not debatable is that the decline had begun. Can a slide into systemic madness be the catalyst for the action?It is best if I describe my own experiences during this period of regression. I never really had to work for anything; I mean… I have had jobs. I have worked for a paycheck. I have put some effort into existing, but I do not believe that I was ever really challenged. This is not a brag

A child’s shoe lies in the ash of a burned village. Still warm. The smoke hasn’t decided whether to rise or weep. Hasher stands slightly off to the side, holding something like an alembic. Hasher crafted this piece of bent glass. It has all the familiar characteristics of such a device, but what makes this one unique is the open conical end. The smoke, which had been confused a moment before, seemed to have a decision forced on it. What was left of the grey vapor rushed into

Midday approached as Brother Hercade stepped beyond a shaded area of the forest. He gazed upon the entrance to an unhallowed and decrepit temple of Jaageen. The monk wore a thick, hooded, long wool robe. Originally, the robe was uncolored, but years of use have stained it a brownish hue. Around his waist was tightly cinched a rope, and tied to the cincture were his order's most valued blessings. The first piece was an alchemic pouch of worn leather. The second was a thin, kno

They threw her in a pit. This barbarous act was not the first time she suffered an injustice. She was keenly aware of the many reasons why, and being punished was no surprise. Outsider perspectives are prone to venture a variety of guesses as to the cause of such treatment, and some would think the punishment was due to her heterochromia and crooked, wilted frame, or ragged brown clothing and sparse, stringy hair. Another might think it was her warty nose and affinity for tha

It was, in fact, a homunculus. There were elements of the creation that resembled an orangutan, primarily in the shape of the head and shoulders. It had the lurching and striding gate of a primate as well. This synthetic creature did not trigger the disorientation of the uncanny valley, but was nonetheless disturbing in a deeply unnatural way. Mrs. Airis paid handsomely for this prototype and even had its “skin” custom-designed into a green and white, almost tartan color patt