Drabble: Drama

He heard the incessant whine of the machines as he flatlined and the shaky last exhale from his lungs, and he was gone.

Two floors down, she gave her first cry, covered in blood and mucus.  The doctor cut her cord and handed her to her mother.  She didn’t stop crying.  Her soulmate was gone, taken away from her two floors above.

He drifted down to her, following her screams.  She opened her eyes and was silenced.  He was beside her, smiling to her in their greeting and goodbye.  He turned, and left her, and she knew not to cry.

The Fallowing – Epilogue

This is it!  That was my book!  Hoped a few people enjoyed it.  I never actually meant to finish the silly thing, but it was what I needed at the time.  I have another book on the way, so stay tuned.

Novel: Horror

As the train plows through miles of snow, I can see the runoff settling into the white expanse on either side, out the windows to left and right.  It reminds me of days trekking short miles and nights sleeping short dreams, out in the cold wilderness.  But those memories drift away in the presence of heating piped through vents, cushy carpets, ambient music in the dining cars, plush seats in the sleeping cars.  Even my memories of home are fading, growing dim as if my mind can’t hold all these events, needs space to try to process everything.  I’m tired and anxious and my heart hurts all the time, trying to tell me something.  Still, I remember my promise to myself, to the world.

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The Fallowing – The Sixth, Part XIII

Novel: Horror

Strands of black were pouring into the church from every hole, every crack.  They streamed down the walls and seeped across the floor, crawling over piles of ruins and snow.  They were making their way to the corpse in the center of it all.

Sam noticed too.  He jumped up and back as they began to reach Seth’s body and swirl around and above and within it.

“What is this stuff?” I said to Sam.

He mumbled something, looking about him.  There was no chance of me seeing his face; the whole church had darkened as if the white shine of the snow had been blocked out.  As if the dark tendrils were absorbing the light.

“What?” I shouted.

“It’s his true self.  From the pieces he planted in people.  In his victims.”

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The Fallowing – The Sixth, Part XII

Novel: Horror

He moved slowly, so that Sam had time to dodge.  But his fist connected with the balcony floor itself and smashed through, sending debris into the air and shaking the structure like an earthquake.  He turned and went for Sam again, and Sam had to bound over the ledge to escape.  The ledge crumbled before Seth, and then he was flying at Sam.

I aimed my gun at his back, sure I could hit him dead center.  But at that moment the floor caved out from under me.  I went down in a blizzard of stone and bits of wooden pews and dust and landed sharply on my legs, nearly splitting them.  The pain caused the gun to fly from my hand, clattering away amid the rubble.

Meantime, they were going at each other, Seth throwing punches and Sam ducking out of the way, dancing across the floor of the church.  Seth was slow, but Sam had to stay out of his range or get liquefied.  Sam had the knife out, but couldn’t get to where he needed to be, which was within range of those fists.

Sam slid on a spare stone and faltered, and Seth grabbed the blade of the knife.  It snapped off in his hand and he tossed it into the dark, blood trailing behind it.  Sam drew his other hand from his coat, but Seth grabbed that too.

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The Fallowing – The Sixth, Part XI

Novel: Horror

“Why are there two of them?”  He turned them this way and that, studying first the black one, then the white.

“The second guy said you would have to make a choice.  I guess you have to pick which one to eat.”

“And get powers from, yes.  But I don’t like the choices.”

“What do you mean?”

He held them up.  The white one looked gray here.  “Black and white.  Evil and good.  One or the other.”

I frowned, but again he probably couldn’t see it.  “The obvious choice would be the good one.”

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