I’m having terrible trouble keeping track of all the names, so sorry if I mix them up at any point. I’m going to have to sit down and do a round of editing for nothing but name tracking. It’s probably silly to even have so many names named, but I feel if someone was talking about their co-workers, they would say their names instead of saying “Three agents,” right?
Novel: Horror
Down for publishing.
We rejoin the novel just in time for some exposition!
Novel: Horror
Down for publishing.
Novel: Horror
Down for publishing.
The Office’s name is just a placeholder for now, much as I like the acronym it creates.
Novel: Horror
Down for publishing.
Not sure about the flirty banter in this part. Might scrap it.
Novel: Horror
Down for publishing.
Novel: Horror
Down for publishing.
It’s a new book! Here we go!
Novel: Horror
Down for publishing.
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.
Novel: Horror
Sam ducked as I shot. Did I mean to miss? Who can say? The bullet hit the window and the glass shattered and rained down onto the hardwood floor and the street below. Sam ran at me and dived at my stomach, knocking me on my back as well as knocking the wind out of me. Before I could get on my feet he was down the hallway, and though I shot at him I missed again. Screams rang out in the rooms, and Sam plunged down the stairs. I let off one more shot before he melted out of sight, but hit only the wall, showering plaster down the stairwell.
By the time I burst out onto the street he had vanished. I looked up and down the road and shouted out his name in a cry – it seemed to me – without end.
“Faye?”
I spun around and came face-to-face with Corrie, still half-bandaged, still timid. She jumped back at the sight of my gun.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
Novel: Horror
Sam tried to follow me along with the monster that had swallowed me, but it was far too fast, weaving back and forth around pedestrians with ease. Soon it was out of Sam’s sight. The snow was too well-trampled to show new footprints, and he had no clues on where it might be going. He ran back to where the encounter had happened, hoping to find Milo, hoping he could make some use of the boy. He was gone, frightened off by the monster, deciding that it just wasn’t worth torturing his ex tonight if he had to deal with that.
Sam looked up and down the street. Everything was business as usual. If anyone had witnessed what happened they had written it off as imagination or were inside being counseled that it had been imagination.
Sam went to room 11031, kicking the door in without bothering to knock. The latch smashed through the jamb easily enough, showering the room with splinters. Girls looked up blearily at his entrance, not jumping in surprise or standing in anger. Their eyes were empty, bored, perhaps only showing a slight relief that this newcomer wasn’t Amnon.
Smeared Black Ink 