Menhir – Rieva’s Story

Her home was empty, both of noise and of another home within it, as a song without a melody. Her bones felt the chill of autumn’s touch all too keenly from the open windows, but she could not bring herself to close them. Something in her said that it was right; his spirit could not find her if the house was shut up like a tomb, could not bade her fond farewell or show her to their mutual love. Saden had been missing for nearly three days since the passing, and she would not hold the wake without him. Not only for his sake and company, but for Syf’s spirit to know they were both there at the last.

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Wait.

Deep green fluid, transparent and illuminated from all sides by miniature bulbs, gurgled quietly as it circled in the pool. As it poured over over a head the size of a small house, steam jetted along the length of it, hissing in the slight viscosity coating it. Multiple symmetrical grooves ran lengthwise along the almost-humanoid jaw, though the shape resembled that of a warship’s prow more than a human face. Circuitry pulsed with life in these channels, a veritable night’s sky of lights blinking in and out in a lazy pattern. The metal beast slumbered wearily, its languor clear as it idled within the restoring bath.

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Stormworld: Freeways

(Warning: This story contains mentions of attempted suicide. If this is something you don’t wish to read about, please return to the archives here.)


Seven more freeways, he thought with a grimace. Seven more freeways until he could get out of the storm for a breath or two. Normally, this should have given him relief, even a spring in his step – a dry place in the middle of the heavy rains? May as well be heaven.
Paul shook his head to clear the water from his eyes. If the amount of Waterbacks and Watchers out were any indication, being indoors could be as risky as facing one of the Reclamation’s mutanta. The thought that being drenched outdoors with a few metres of clear view was more ideal than the safety of a roof and walls gave Paul pause; would the risks of theft or violence really outweigh the benefit of a dry spot?

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Stormworld: Cottage

The cottage stood empty on the bluff, wind whistling through long-broken shutters as a fine mist descended from the thin clouds. Occasional god-rays shone through, which was as sunny as it got this time of year. The cottage on the hill was, like most structures, derelict – abandoned years ago and nowhere near salvage or food to bother fixing up. As such, it made for a fantastic bird perch, as well as hideaway for one individual.

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Stormworld: Watcher & Harvester

(The following story contains mild sexual content; if you are under 18 or otherwise not keen on reading about it, please leave this page.)

This is the fourth in a series of short stories set in a shared universe: Earth has been pummeled by heavy storms for twenty years, and the governments left over have adapted by genetically manipulating (and in some cases, Inventing) creatures to help them survive the onslaught of rain and wind. After two decades, the storms have diminished, but the changes are too significant to return to the status quo so easily…


 

The sound of the rain had taken on a subtle tone, dashing itself against the tin roof with a soft but determined fervor. No malice or ill intent transmitted throughout the dilapidated structure, yet there rang a hollow noise, low and almost empty, from the opened doorways and windowless voids along its face; echoes of a past long forgotten. Read more

Menhir – Saden’s Story

The menhir stood solitary atop the hill, bare in the harsh autumn wind. What little lichen grew on it had begun to die off months ago as autumn approached, and several web-like cracks splintered along the base where water and plants had worn away the stone. Small pots of earthenware lay empty or overturned in front of the massive rock, their contents long since dried up and blown away. A small carved rock figurine nestled against the base of the rock, a thin crimson ribbon – a wedding band – tied around the neck.

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Stormworld: Ohrain

This is the third in a series of short stories set in a shared universe: Earth has been pummeled by heavy storms for twenty years, and the governments left over have adapted by genetically manipulating (and in some cases, Inventing) creatures to help them survive the onslaught of rain and wind. After two decades, the storms have diminished, but the changes are too significant to return to the status quo so easily…


Soft summer droplets plinked off of cars and roofs as the figure stalked along the road, silent and nigh invisible in the dim twilight rain. Its tongue flitted out of its lips like a lizard’s, sniffing at the air while the large frame that bore it lumbered elegantly through the brush on the side of the road. IT had been tracking something, or someone, but it had forgotten who or what. It had been tracking them for a long time, was all it knew. Read more

Stormworld: Loft

This is the second in a series of short stories set in a shared universe: Earth has been pummeled by heavy storms for twenty years, and the governments left over have adapted by genetically manipulating (and in some cases, Inventing) creatures to help them survive the onslaught of rain and wind. After two decades, the storms have diminished, but the changes are too significant to return to the status quo so easily…


The driving rain had let up for barely an hour, and all haste was made laying tarps over gaps and pushing furniture against shuttered windows. When the lightning flashed once more, and the thunder bellowed behind it, it was dimmer, more distant for the covers. As the rain once more poured forth, there came many a plinking sound from inside. Pots and bowls, pails of this and bins of that were upset and placed to gather what fell through the makeshift barriers. Read more

Pilot-Ship

Normally silenced by so much noise and fury of roaring fusion engines and myriad humming system, the hull was beginning to groan loudly, as though it were unhappy with current circumstances. The asteroid it gripped onto was one of millions in this belt, and though its rotation was slower than its neighbours, the force still put considerable strain on the Ship’s claws which clung to it.

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Stormworld: Hardtop

This is the first in a series of short stories set in a shared universe: Earth has been pummeled by heavy storms for twenty years, and the governments left over have adapted by genetically manipulating (and in some cases, Inventing) creatures to help them survive the onslaught of rain and wind. After two decades, the storms have diminished, but the changes are too significant to return to the status quo so easily…

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