short stories
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The Vanishing Years – Part 4
Previously on The Vanishing Years … The Lydia Fairfax case had become a media circus with national headlines, cameras everywhere, her family playing their roles for the public. But off-camera, their indifference was unsettling, and the trail of elderly women… Continue reading
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The Vanishing Years – Part 3
Previously on The Vanishing Years, while the media obsesses over the disappearance of Lydia Fairfax, a darker, quieter pattern was being ignored. Seven elderly women—poor, mostly Black, living alone—had vanished across the city, their cases barely earning a paragraph in… Continue reading
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The Vanishing Years – Part 2
Previously on The Vanishing Years, when the news breaks that socialite and heiress Lydia Fairfax has gone missing, the newsroom spirals into chaos. Reporters swarm around TVs, hungry for scraps from a police press conference. Assigned to the story, reporter… Continue reading
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The Vanishing Years – Part 1
When socialite Lydia Fairfax vanishes, the city erupts in a frenzy of headlines, search parties, and speculation. But reporter Ethan Cole sees something far stranger simmering beneath the media circus: a string of overlooked disappearances of elderly women no one… Continue reading
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My Doppelgänger – Finale
Content warning: This story contains references to murder. I had been sound asleep in my car when I heard the tapping at the window and saw the flashlight shine in. Shit, I thought. I was parked on the side of… Continue reading
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My Doppelgänger – Part 2
Content warning: This story contains references to murder and suicide. Our modern usage of the term doppelgänger betrays its deep mythological roots. Often, we refer to doppelgängers as a twin stranger or someone who merely looks exactly like us. But… Continue reading
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My Doppelgänger – Part 1
“Ere Babylon was dust, / The Magus Zoroaster, my dead child, / Met his own image walking in the garden. / That apparition, sole of men, he saw. / For know there are two worlds of life and death: /… Continue reading
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The God Who Wakes the Worms
They say he comes barefoot, leaving footprints of moss in frost-bitten soil. Not summoned, not born but thawed from beneath the world when the first crocus dares to dream. His name is unpronounceable by clean mouths, but the crows call… Continue reading
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The Night Unending, Part VI (Finale)
There was no staircase after the top, only absence. Octavius stood on the edge of the Tower of the Night King and stared into a sky that was not sky but memory congealed into black silk. The stars were watching… Continue reading
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The Night Unending, Part V
He saw it through a break in the storm, just as the fog finally broke its hold: a jagged silhouette against a sky the color of bruised fruit. The tower rose like a wound in the world, forged from obsidian… Continue reading
God Is In The Radio 