Short Writings

The Boogeyman

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I’ve never really gotten the hang of mornings.

Most days, I drag myself out of bed, my eyes squeezed shut as I fumble around for the damn beeping of my alarm. Once I silence the repugnant device, I sit there for a few more moments, just wishing that I could flop back down, that I didn’t need to get up for work.

Shave, brush teeth, splash some water in my sagging face in the bathroom. Pull on some khakis after running a quick check for any stains or tears, stumble downstairs to get some coffee into my still-sleepy system before departing.

I always make sure that I have enough time to sit at my kitchen table for a few minutes, just sipping at the steaming mug of brown water and caffeine. Every morning, I’m tempted to sleep through those five minutes, but I never do.

Those five minutes are my own time, the only five minutes of my life that belong to no one but me.

So when someone thumped into my kitchen and set a cup of coffee down on the other side of the table, I looked up with annoyance. My mouth started to open, an annoyed little comment on my tongue.

The words died there, shriveling up and drying my mouth until it filled with dust. Continue reading →

“Three bullets. No more, no less.”

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I flicked the revolver’s chamber open, although I didn’t need to count the number of rounds inside.

Three bullets. No more, no less. That was how many they issued each applicant.

I closed the chamber of the revolver, hearing it click into place. I hefted the gun, getting a feel for it, checking the sights to make sure they lined up. Crouched on the white tiles, I did my best to strain my ears, to hear past the thumping of my heart.

Three bullets. Three enemies. We couldn’t miss a shot. To get into the Academy, I had to show perfection. Continue reading →

A Night at the Tavern

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“You’re late, Lawson! Where the hell have you been? I oughtta take my anger out on your hide, turn you into a lampshade!”

I glared back at my boss, not intimidated by his rocky face or diamond teeth. “Come on, Feldspar, I’m only a minute late,” I snapped back at him. “Listen, you spend the first five minutes of the shift huffing concrete dust anyway, so all I’m missing out on is a case of black lung.”

The troll growled at me, but he knew better than to try and win an argument against me, and instead turned back to the rest of the servers. Continue reading →

It Locks from the Outside

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It locks from the outside.

The rental agent mentioned that about the basement, hadn’t he? I hadn’t been listening, thinking about how getting away from it all would help me get back to my roots, let me finally finish the novel I’d been delaying. I just wanted to get the keys and head up to the cabin.

But I’d heard the scratching noise, coming from under the floorboards – an animal, trapped in the basement? I ducked into the darkness, intending to just glance around.

But the light switch didn’t work – and as I turned, I heard the door close behind me.

And click.

My phone was upstairs, and I didn’t have a flashlight, I thought as I felt around, searching for an axe, something, anything that could get me out through that door. Inside my head, I felt panic growing, pushing conscious thoughts further and further away.

I’d chosen to be alone, to retreat from society so that I wouldn’t be bothered.

The basement door locks for the outside – and now I’m trapped…

The Homunculus Store

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I stared around the shop, still feeling that rush of amazement. I’d been here a hundred times – no, a thousand times – before, but it still amazed me, still left me breathless.

“Hey Tim, what’s this one?”

I turned, looking over at Alma. My older sister stared up at the stained glass window, and I stifled my little groan of irritation.

“That’s Etruvian Man,” I told her, certain that I’d named the figure in the window to her on previous visits. “And it’s Hedron while we’re here, remember? This is a Game shop, so we use the Game names.” Continue reading →

The Walking Desk

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I stumbled up the steps to my apartment, groaning at the aching in my head. I should have drank more water last night, I told myself for the fifteenth time. This hangover is killing me.

When I opened the door to my apartment, however, I paused for a second at the rhythmic sound drifting out from inside; it reminded me of a belt sander, or perhaps a saw wheel. What was going on? Was Joe, my roommate, working on some sort of project?

I stepped inside – and found my living room transformed. Continue reading →

Chamuel, Archangel of Lost Items

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Chamuel winged his way through the shining streets, always loving how the light played off of the beautiful, pristinely white surfaces. Even after a thousand millennia of dwelling in the City of Light, he never felt his sense of amazement lessen as he gazed down at the Almighty’s greatest city.

His enjoyment of the view was cut short, however, as he heard the voice, slightly tinny, in his ear. “Chamuel, please, tell me you’re almost here.”

“Yes, yes,” he replied, speaking over the Angel Band, directing his thoughts out specifically just towards Eremiel. “Touching down now.”

Casting one last glance back at the beautiful city behind him, Chamuel soared over the Gate of Heaven, ornately crafted out of pure, shimmering mother-of-pearl, standing ten cubits tall-

-and closed. Hmm. That was odd. Continue reading →

Finish What He Started

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“You’re kidding me.”

I stared across the little living room at the sour-faced, shriveled old man sitting on the couch, my uncle’s will held in his claw-like little hands. I heard his words bouncing around in my head, but they still didn’t make sense.

“I assure you, Miss Tate, I’m not joking,” the lawyer repeated stiffly, regarding me with a combination of annoyance and patient disgust. “As I said, the will stipulates that you will be left five million dollars, if you finish what your uncle started.”

“But Uncle Ryan…” I trailed off, trying to make sense of it all. “Where did he even get five million dollars from? He worked up until he died! My parents told me that he could barely afford to keep his house, that he’d have lost it if it wasn’t for my helping him with the rent!” Continue reading →

Clockwork

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I made my way through the press of bodies towards the back of the tavern, my heart pounding. None of the men milling about spared a second look for me, but I still shrank away from their incurious looks.

There. Set into the back wall of the building, a bare wooden door – and a huge, hulking bouncer leaning against it, his arms crossed.

I moved closer, my heart pounding in my throat. He had to have strains of ogre in his ancestry. No human possessed arms so big, such gray skin. His hand could easily close on my head, and likely pop it like a grape. I nearly turned and fled, my courage all but exhausted, but forced myself closer.

He looked down at me, his heavy brow furrowing. “Yuh?”

“Hextech,” I choked out through dry lips. “I need to see him.” Continue reading →

Turncoat

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I grimaced as I followed the young man into the palatial mansion. The man couldn’t be older than seventeen, and his scrawny frame looked barely capable of handling the scratched and battered AK-47 in his hands.

Even inside the house, with banks of air conditioners likely running at full steam, the oppressive tropical heat still left me sweating in my suit. The fabric was light, but I reached up and loosened my tie by slipping a finger in between it and my collar. My feet felt uncomfortably damp in my leather shoes.

We came around the corner, and there he was, lounging in an armchair, holding a glass of some dark liquid in one hand and smiling up at me through flat eyes. “Ah, the turncoat arrives,” he greeted me, grinning fiercely. Continue reading →