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Written by Andrew Pernick
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Saturday, 19 May 2007 |
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The store had no name. In the history of the city, through its busts and booms, its highs and lows, it remained, untouched, changing only insofar as it changed hands, acquired help, let its stock grow and shrink. But it never had a name. |
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Written by Harbinger of Dawn
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Tuesday, 15 May 2007 |
A fell wind blew over Caërn. It went pitch black. It was midday and had been clear for the whole day before. The villagers quaked in their boots for fear. Only a small group of people knew what was going on: The Chosen. They were the Seeing Cultists of the dark Lord Dagon and they knew the day had come.
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Written by Andrew Slater
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Saturday, 12 May 2007 |
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As I approached the room, I smelt death. Two years in France with the Suffolk Regiment had made that smell as instantly recognisable as that of new-mown grass; newly mown soldier. I walked slowly toward Saunders’ hotel room door hoping I was wrong, but what else could have a combination of the bright, metallic taste of blood and the rich, foetid smell of opened guts? |
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Written by Lauren Silver
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Friday, 22 December 2006 |
I don't want to know this anymore. I've sinned.
No. Not sin, not exactly. But I've gone where I shouldn't, and so here I am. These things I've unleashed upon the world, this curse, I don't know the cure. All I can say is that I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. |
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Original Fiction 
