a creature born, dine to deal a creature dies, born to breathe in the afterlife, it stains the curtains with every strike, knuckles worn a creature cut anymore a creature shocks, caught to catch a creature falls, lives to lie a creature follows, born to die. a creature signs, wrecked a way a creature struggles, …
Author: jbdurnett
Transmission of Guilt
Wesker huffed his remaining equipment into the back of his truck. Metallic shavings splashed from an unknown tear and fell into a corner, crunched together like sawdust and wood flakes. He latched the back, placed the cover, and double checked all four sides until he was absolutely sure nothing was misplaced. He locked the doors …
40 Sounds
Originally, it started with a snap. Not too similar to bark. It would have to be a bit stronger. So, a branch. That satisfying -WACK- when you'd kick an old empty trash bin from school. Take five of those, string them together, then you have what it sounded, what it echoed. But as one big …
The Decay Field
"God damn it," I screeched. Chunking a pile of dirt aside, it proved to do nothing more than add to a pile aside a single shovel I had abandoned an hour ago. The dig yielded complete zero. My partner, a rustic middle man, had given up the attempt two hours before me. The guy lounged …
Snap out of it
spider legs curl around its prey. Silk falls around the shoulders, gives a minuscule weight that brings two barbs deep into the meat. hanging beast gives protection against the elements. The cold seeps through the strands, and while the soft touch brings relief. Nothing else did. Everything else melted to liquid--torn to pieces. between the …
Flask
Reaching further into the center, he managed to yank the source away. Freed from its prison, manifested again to the rest of the world, it beat several times. Slow, methodical, silent as a lightning bug blinking in the darkness. A solid one second. Not a lot of time. Tiny compared to infinity. But that was …
Ignition
Impossibilities. It's impossible to be idle. Impossible to not try. Impossible not to scream. For more.
Concussion
whispers--fly through strands of hairagainst the flesh behind the earsbetween the fingers and into drumstelling you to reign and runwords and whispers--calm and caress, kill and catchbacking against the wallwith only whispers running down your backbone. whispers--crack the windows, three at a timebend the doors, two at a timetwist each thoughtone time
Mystified
Five people had already been taken. A few neighbors, three kids from the nearby school. It was a vastly bright bullet from the sky. It pierced through the clouds like a whole punched through paper. From space, and spiking its ways around the person, it punctured the grassy hill and sliced miles down. It seemed …
Sluggish, Stale, a bucket of Water
Stagnant. That's the feeling. When everything boils over--when the time comes to find those hidden feelings buried under the mud--there's a familiar feeling. And it's not stagnation. There's a sense of rebirth. And, a sense of hope. A different type of hope. One more akin to a passion to continue. A fight to push forward …
Just Buckle Down 