My grandfather was a trucker. Often, he’d be on the road for days at a time, sleeping in his truck for the sake of saving a penny. He traveled from coast to coast, in places that are well-known, and places that are completely unknown. From New York to the River Canto, sitting outside of Third City’s walls. My grandpa was a great trucker, and a well-versed traveler.
He took some notes about driving at night—doing long hauls. He wanted to make sure his family knew the dangers of driving at night, as well as the importance of a few—at the time—little-known tips and tricks.
Here are his notes:
Continue reading “Night Drives: Tips and Tricks”
I am not here of my own accord.
Fate was set. Pulled into motion. Gears of time and space and virtue, all meshing together to tick down. To continue counting the seconds until the bell would toll. Until the hammer would strike.
I am not here of my own accord, I can promise you that.
I am here.
And I am no fool.
I must do what it is that I was destined to do. Regardless of how I feel, of what I want, I know what I must do, and I will do it.
Pave the way.
Continue reading “Thorny Fate”
The river runs, and it runs, and it runs.
Right through the building. Washing over every floor. Coating all the walls, and filling every hall.
The river runs.
Black tar, river runs.
It builds on the walls. Closes off the doorways. Makes open and shut impossible for them. For us.
Time is running.
Running river, black tar.
Run from the river. The river is running for you.
It runs for you.
Run, run, run from the river.
Run. Continue reading “Spill”
Captain’s Log: Day 3212.
We found it. We finally found The Mission. We’ll be climbing aboard soon, doing our best to glean what we can from the surveillance and from the wreckage. But, we know it’s alive.
It’s still here. Continue reading “Submerged”
A dark tide. Pooling and rushing forward, churning things up from the depths.
The mouth of Tartarus.
Not a pit. A pool.
They say once you get lost in it, you don’t come back out.
That’s what they say.
It’s why it was the perfect place for me. Chained and bound, tossed in a sack, thrown with an anchor around my ankle into the inky depths.
Tartarus awaited me then. Eager to swallow me up. Add another to its collection.
And they were more than eager to hand me over. To please the dark depths.
They say that when you get thrown into Tartarus, you don’t make it back out.
That’s what they say.
But they don’t really know much.
Do they? Continue reading “From Tartarus, With Love”
“You should be able to do this already.”
“How can I disarm you when you’re trying your hardest? Can’t you just ease up a little bit? You’re the best fighter in the garrison!”
“Exactly. If you can’t disarm me now, how could you stand a chance against me in The Nest? You can’t be my partner if you can’t fight me.”
Which was a bit disheartening.
Because she was right.
If he couldn’t fight her here, where she was only parrying against him, blocking his moves, defending herself, how could he stand a chance in The Nest?
If it was hard for him now, it’d be impossible later.
He’d be slaughtered.
He held his sword steady.
“Okay, lets go again.”
And she obliged. Continue reading “Disarming Approach”
The woods are not a place for playing.
Not at night.
I tell every one of them that. Every one of them that comes by my hut. I do everything possible to make it clear to them:
Be home by sundown.
Don’t stick around.
Don’t wait for night.
Because the night is waiting too. Continue reading “Dark Preys at Night”
The earth reaches up to me.
And I push it down.
I take my bare hands and I slam into the dirt. I claw, and I punch, and I pack it down. Soft gets matted down into tough turf. Loose soil loses it’s gentle touch as I pound it into something coarse, unforgiving.
There are legions under the dirt.
There are whole worlds buried beneath this earth.
Monsters and milestones and madness.
Things that time has forgotten. That humanity has forgotten. Things that are no longer important, because people have stopped knowing they existed.
This will be no different. Continue reading “Grave Secrets”
“If we can make it to our rooms before the stairs disappear, we’ll be safe,” he said.
I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t expecting that.
All I know is that, for some stupid reason, I wasn’t.
“This house is a nightmare.”
Raph gave me one of his trademark chagrinned grins. “Yeah, I know.”
But, that was about all we could say.
In this hellscape, it was the only safe haven there was.
Despite the disappearing stairs, the bone monster in the basement, the random doors that impossibly led you back outside, and all the zombies that were corralled into the attic, it was the safest place here.
Which, says a lot. Continue reading “Hell of my Own”
“Gateways aren’t toys. They’re not to be trifled with. If anything, you should see them as doorways directly to Hell. Would you want to open a door to Hell?”
I shook my head no.
Pop nodded. “Smart lad. Now get back to the house and help Nan and Gi with supper.”
It was my first lesson about Gateways. About things other, things unknown. Things not from here.
And it was the most important.
But, time has a way of fading urgency. Of making us forget the importance and history. The relevance.
Or maybe humans are just fools. Continue reading “Red Doors”