Hey all! This is the second part of my flash fiction series. We're doing another 3-story part today, and I hope you all enjoy! In, out, in, out, in out in out in out in– she gasped, slamming the door shut behind her. Pressed her back to it. Slid to the floor. In, out, in, … Continue reading Flash Fiction Trio Part 2
Beatrice hummed softly as she stoked the fire until it crackled happily, warming her from head to toe. Her body was moving without any real input from her mind; it was late, and Howard should have been home from work hours ago, but then again, it had been months since he had actually been home from work on time, and loathe as she was to admit it, Beatrice found that she was rather used to it at this point.
There are witches in Essex.
And I am not one of them.
The path continues through deep and impenetrable shadows for what feels like hours. Every now and again, I hear movement from either side of me, but when I look over, I can’t see anything. Each time I look, I feel the knot in my head tighten, as though I were using shadows.
I wake up the next evening at six with a knot in my chest to match the one in my head. I don’t want to face the Devotees again. Not after what happened in Veracruz. Not after the explosions, the blood, the ripples of darkness reaching out into every corner of the city, killing everything and everyone they came into contact with… I don’t want to deal with it. I can’t. Not yet.
We land at the Philadelphia Airport a little more than three hours later, sore from the TSA’s poking and prodding. I swear, the mortals’ stupid security systems are even more obnoxious than the entire damn Dynasty. But whatever makes them feel safer, I guess. The drive to our new, temporary home base is only about a half an hour. Briella is entirely silent the whole way. All I can hear is the rustling of her scarf brushing against her shirt. I lean as far away from her as I can without seeming rude, so that I end up essentially sitting on Montero’s lap with his arm wrapped around my shoulders.
The building is a good fifty stories tall. The office I need to breach is on the thirty-seventh floor. The elevators inside use fingerprinting and voice-command and keycards, and for all my skills I have yet to develop one that’ll fool a computer into thinking I’m someone I’m not. The stairways are equipped with emergency exits. I don’t want to trip the alarms; not quite yet. I still need everyone inside the building.
Hey everyone! I just realised that I've never actually published some proper fiction on this blog. Is that something any of you would be interested in? If so, please like/comment on this post. This would be posted in four chapters, ideally (if I can get my damn act together) interspersed with other, more normal posts. … Continue reading Short fiction series?
Hey all! Sorry it's been so long since I've posted. I've got my usual gamut of excuses, and I'm not gonna bore you with them. Suffice it to say, summer has been busy for me. Which brings me to the topic of today's post: keeping writing when you're crazy busy. Clearly, it's a challenge for … Continue reading Busy Days
Hey everyone! So, I am by no means the first or only person to do this, and I'm sure that others have been far more eloquent on this topic than my baby self can be. But this is an absolutely essential thing to talk about, and given that it's Mental Health Awareness Month, now seems … Continue reading Mental Health and Writing