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Slave and Master

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I will guide you through a world you cannot understand. The Master leads and the slave follows. You will give me all you have, but I will take more. You will weep tears but I will draw blood. I will teach you pain and you will forget your name. From now and ever after, slave and master, slave and master.

Sleepwalking

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A shadow drifts across the doorway. The light in the room flickers and in the fading light she stands, somewhere between light and dark. The girl seems lifeless the light barely bouncing off her skin. Almost a spectre.

The weak light can’t seem to penetrate a darkness that seems unnatural and oppressive. The shadow moves closer it’s time to leave. Its shadowy form moves through the doorway tentatively. Her eyelids shake with visions of terror in another realm. Long disjointed fingers uncurl from the shadowy shroud reaching out to wake the dead from the dream of living.

The Cascaded Dark – Part 20

The Cascaded Dark – Part 20 published on No Comments on The Cascaded Dark – Part 20

Story by Wayne Francis

The first one was a warning, the second one killed him.

As usual Hellus ignored good sense and charged into a situation where he was overmatched. It was the water you see, the momentum… he never quite got the hang of it. Elismet knew it. The tensor helped too- phi compression algorithm gone high the source. Next thing you know Hellus is drifting straight into the fire.

The fire that burned in a blink of an eye.

Continue reading The Cascaded Dark – Part 20

Desperation

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The sounds of the city in its death throes almost drowned out the infant’s muffled cries. She scrambled to pick the wiggling child up from among the bodies of its motionless parents.

Overhead waves upon waves of the strange flying machines headed towards the city she had just escaped. Many were not so lucky but she was a survivor.

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The Cascaded Dark – Part 19

The Cascaded Dark – Part 19 published on No Comments on The Cascaded Dark – Part 19

Story by Wayne Francis

The cauldron that was the Eastern Sea churned below the white cliffs. The rage of the water could be heard all the way at the top, crashing waves turning to a salty white mist against the face, almost as white as the marbled cliff itself. What had bleached these rocks nobody remembered, just like nobody remembered that the mountains of ice once began at this very edge. Of this dour white wall against the sullen sea only the old name remained, now bastardized to the cliffs of Endover.

Continue reading The Cascaded Dark – Part 19

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