A Ghoulish DilemmaDetective Travis Hade regretted his timing the moment he dipped his pen into the inkwell. Thunderous knocks threatened to bust his office door off its hinges, and he jumped high enough to bang his knee on his desk. The inkwell toppled on its side. It rolled, trailing an oily stain, and fell off the desk with a petite smashing sound. Travis leapt from his chair and ran to the door.A Ghoulish Dilemma by Leonca
Like an impatient bear, Sergeant Kaighn wouldn’t let up until his demands were answered. Travis threw open the door and looked up at the sergeant’s broad face. “What can I help you with, Sir?” he said.
The sergeant grinned. “You take care of that crazy wag?” he said.
Travis grimaced. He spun around and pulled the papers away from the spreading pool of ink. “Just a moment,” he said, fumbling for his pen. He dipped it into the spill and signed his name on the report. “Yes, Sir,” he said. “Mr. Loupinacci has paid the fine, and I advised Mrs. Weath
ControlThe feeling came over Bill when he was out checking his trap line in the dying light of a winter evening. Eyes on the back of his head. He knew the wary scrutiny of the deer and the hungry yet restrained gaze of the wolf. This didn't feel like either. It didn't belong to this place any more than he did. He would have preferred the wolf.Control by Leonca
He turned around, shook his gun at the reddening sky, and cupped his other hand to his mouth. "I know you're out there! This is private property! I don't wanna use this, but you'll leave me no choice if I catch you hanging around here!"
A soft rustle from somewhere deep enough that the trees obscured his vision. He waited until he felt he was alone again, then trudged through the snow to see what he could learn about the intruder. There were prints made by boots similar to his, though smaller. The thought that he outweighed whoever it was offered little comfort.
He cast one last disgusted look in the direction the tracks took as they moved away, then re
Talking to YourselfWind drove snow over the trees with such force they seemed to step into the distance. The whiteness in the air covered everything until it was as faded as an old scent trail after a rainstorm. The snow was already deep enough to suck in a man's leg past the knee if he wasn't wearing snowshoes, but the figure trudging through it was no longer a man.Talking to Yourself by Leonca
Wendigo had given up on snowshoes long ago in favor of simpler footwear. The straps challenged the clumsy fingers of his stolen human body, and he could never figure out how to move in them without tripping. He lurched onward with the tenacity of a wolverine gnawing through an inch of deer skull to get the gooey treat in the center. The pain in his stomach howled to his feet. He gave little thought to their control. His mind was focused on making the most of sensory information diminished by the storm. Sounds and smells were difficult to pinpoint. He almost felt as if the wind were a rival, come to mask the trails of prey to keep for itself.
The Charred JungleHe went to sleep a man and awoke a jaguar. The feline form felt like coming home, and as soon as his eyes opened he could see that he was indeed back where he belonged. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves above, splashing across his mottled coat in warm patches. He took in a breath of humid air, held it, savored it.The Charred Jungle by Leonca
Nothing here but the buzz of insects and the call of monkeys. The time of searching had come. He swished his long tail back and forth behind him as he padded across the damp soil, reassured by its presence that he had entered that state of twilight reality where answers could be found.
His pink nose twitched, drawing in the jungle's rich scents. Under the earthy smell of decaying leaves was another, a distress call sent up by nature which he must answer. He followed it until he found the clearing.
It was a lifeless place, black and smoky but no longer dangerous after the passing of the fire. The game trail he trod opened into it accompanied by a pair of decoratio
Becoming the TigerOctober 7thBecoming the Tiger by Leonca
Bob Cartman kept a tiger in a cage behind his house. He also had a big Rottweiler that lived on a ten-foot chain in the front of his property, and slept with a loaded shotgun propped against his bed. No one knew if he lived under a constant paranoia of being robbed or if it was the result of an overdose of the natural desire to display his machismo. No one bothered to ask.
The tiger was a massive male of the Siberian variety. In his ever-abundant creativity, Bob had dubbed him Stripes. The dog didn't fare much better. His name was Killer.
Stripes was a friendly cat, when he was in the right mood. Bring him out a piece of chicken and he would come up to the bars, rubbing his face against the cold metal and moaning an enthusiastic greeting. Bob liked to complain that he wasn't vicious enough, that he lacked the killer instinct of a ferocious jungle beast. He found many faults with Stripes in fact, from the cost of feeding to the habit the creature had of keeping him up
Lie to meI smile and I'm all teeth underneath,Lie to me by Leonca
white bones beneath bulbous lips,
careless quips and sinking ships
when something slips.
Hair of the cat that scratched you-
it's never new but always true.
I watched it stew until it grew
into something different.
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder
what does the blind man see when he holds her
and tells her his heart smolders
for her face?
Honesty as a policy
is not for me;
I could never see
eye to eye with it.
You can lie to buy my affection.
I will not try to hide my affliction
and you needn't be conflicted
when we can be so happy together.
Bailey's CakeSusan hummed to herself as she set the oven to preheat for Bailey's birthday surprise. OK, so maybe it wasn't going to be much of a surprise with her sitting there watching, but it's the thought that counts, right? She paused in her preparations to lean over and give the black and tan German shepherd a scratch behind its silky soft ears. Bailey panted and thumped her tail against the floor, always eager for more attention.Bailey's Cake by Leonca
Susan thought about her while she greased the cake tin. Ten was a big year for a dog, especially one of Bailey's size. She had been such a good friend for all their years together, it was hard to imagine that someday soon they would be parted prematurely. She couldn't ignore the ever-thickening sprinkling of white hairs that graced the dog's dark muzzle.
No, this is too depressing, she told herself, think of something else. Anything else.
The cake. If she could just focus on that it would drive all those unwanted thoughts away. She looked at the dog bir
WardogI can't let him see that I'm scared. I have to be a good boy and he doesn't like it when I'm scared. Look at my tail wagging, Mr. Vance. I'm happy to be here.Wardog by Leonca
"Getting excited, are we? Go on then. Help them out with a little distraction."
Oh no, he wants me to go closer to all those guns. Be a good boy be a good boy.
So loud. They're all yelling and shooting and it's hurting my ears and wish it would stop. I can feel my heart beating faster. I don't like that. Stay in the shadows stay in the shadows.
I can smell them. Five different people. Men. Sweat, gunpowder, blood.
Be a monster.
Their eyes can't see in the dark. I'm safe as long as I keep moving. They'll shoot at the spot the noise came from but I won't be there anymore so I'm safe.
"¿Qué es eso?"
"¡Sonaba como el diablo!"
That was close. Be careful be careful. I'm scared but they are too and that means that they won't shoot as well so I'm safe.
Go to the window go to the window. Be scared of my voice. G
Postapocalyptic LunchOn such a beautiful, cool fall day there was no reason for the streets to be abandoned. Children should fill the little courtyard with their games and laughter as cars passed slowly by and the neighborhood went about its daily business. Instead the sole signs of human activity were the flowerbeds full of bright yellow tulips, domesticated plants left over from a time when there were people around to appreciate them. The eyes that fell on them were few and far between now.Postapocalyptic Lunch by Leonca
The latest set belonged to a dark-skinned girl, her slight frame hidden beneath tattered clothing. She entered the courtyard cautiously, ears constantly pricked for any sound of unwanted company. Zombies may be comically slow, but get a hoard together and they could very well ruin your day.
The girl stopped at a fountain in the middle of the courtyard. It had been left dry and unattended, but surrounded by the yellow flowers it resembled a stone shrine. She withdrew a tiny figurine from her pocket and placed it on the
How to Play GodIt is really quite simple, Mr. Hare. Your role will be easy. You needn't worry yourself with all the niggly little details of brewing the formula. I can manage that part on my own. All you have to do is keep the lab tidy, assist in capture and restraint of subjects, and help me to prepare them for administration of the drug.How to Play God by Leonca
Oh, it is quite easy. I can give you the basic run-down right now, or I can write out a little instruction manual if that would be more convenient.
Oh, I see. Well, that is good to hear. Nothing more valuable than a sharp memory. In fact, I think that should become especially clear when you have the chance to observe your first subject. It can be quite amusing to watch them come out of it, all confused and whatnot.
All right then, in that case I shall start out with the treatment room. See how it is nice and small it is? Very easy to maintain. The chair is modeled after the lovely designs used to restrain violent patients in mental institutions. There s
A Shadow in the SunThe United States of America has been taken over by terrorists. I know this because the angels told me.A Shadow in the Sun by Leonca
Warned me, actually. Their voices were soft at first. Distant, unfocused. I didn't understand, but I listened and soon it all became clear to me. So clear. They had chosen me- me of all people, to divulge this vital information to. I felt honored, but at the same time very frightened.
These terrorists have controlled the country for many years now. I do not know how many exactly, as the angels do not consider that detail important enough to tell me. What they have told me is this- that the terrorists are in control of every aspect of the government and by extension every aspect of the lives of the American people. Nothing happens to us that does not have their planning behind it. Good things, bad things, random things. Can you see how this makes for such a brilliant plan? It is all so well hidden, so perfectly executed, that no one has caught on and we continue to believe
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Guilty PleasuresGuilty Pleasures by TheTinkerThinker
The problem with living in a city with a population of over 5 million human meatbags is:
One: Sooner or later any secret will be discovered, especially if that secret involves a thirteen foot tall alternate form with a bulk to match.
Two: You can't just eat the idiots that stumble across your little big secret, because then you'd have to eat their pals as well, and anyone else that they might have managed to call, message or otherwise notify along their brief sprint, and you'd end up really bloated and sick. And that's assuming the Inquisitors didn't hear about it.
Three: There are Inquisitors in the city and they outnumber you. 'Nough said.
In fact, your best bet when encountering such a scenario is to play it coolact like nothing's wrong (and why should it be? Unless you're feeding which is a whole different matter...) The remarkable thing about humans is their natural indifference and apathy to their surroundings, and as long as a change in their preconceived not
|Things that I especially like, whether it is because they are very well done or just because they make me laugh.|
10 Things About Me
1. I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome when I was around 14 years old. When I was a child my parents had to teach me that it was normal to look at people when I talked to them.
3. My name has appeared in the credits section of a book as a research assistant.
4. When I get hurt and surprised at the same time I tend to make dog-like yelping sounds.
5. I can imitate the sounds cats make with enough accuracy to get them to change their behavior after hearing it. I can kind of do a wolf howl and a tiger mating call, but am no good at imitating dog sounds.
6. When our last family dog did not recover from being paralyzed, I took her to work, assisted the vet in putting her to sleep, and put her in the freezer where she waited for cremation. I was able to tell from a young age that I would be able to do things like this without being too upset by it.
7. My favorite animals are leopards, saber-toothed cats, and domestic cats, but I have more fun drawing canines like dogs and wolves.
8. One of my biggest guilty pleasures is fart jokes. It is so juvenile but I just can’t help it.
9. I once survived with no broken bones when a cow knocked over a table onto my foot with its butt.
10. When I was 5 years old I got in trouble for rubbing ashes all over myself so I could pretend I was a wolf.
1-Did you ever have a song stuck in your brain despite you didn't even like it? Which song was it?
Sometimes when my brother listened to rap songs with gross lyrics those would get stuck in my head.
2-If you were to live within a fandom, which would it be? How would you develop in it?
I don’t know. Maybe Grimm? Might be cool to be one of those jaguar people they had a few episodes ago, minus the gang wars.
This changes all the time. For now I’ll go with Kung Fu Hustle.
3-A book/s you really enjoyed!
One that I recently read and loved was Mary G. Thompson’s Wuftoom, a story about a boy who unwillingly transforms and must join a society of worm-like beings. It gets unsettling at times, but the world-building of this hidden ecosystem living in the sewers was amazing.
4-That tv series you couldn't do without?
My favorite right now is Grimm. Again, great world-building. I love trying to guess which creature or folk-tale they chose before they reveal it.
5-The weirdest thing a friend ever told you was?...
Does my sister count? She likes to walk up to people and say “HI!!!” several times in a row.
6-Have you ever found yourself liking a villain more than a hero in a plot?...If so, Who was it?
I did in Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein. I found Frankenstein’s monster fascinating, and wondered what would have happened if his creator had treated him more kindly.
7-A wild dream/hope you had as a kid and now you can't even tell why you even thought of that?...
When I was really young I thought having a horse for a pet would be fun. I don’t think I was made to get along with horses. I just don’t get them.
8-Te strangest dream you had, in few words.
There was a man who had a TV show where he would just do really disturbing things, like jab a sharpened straw up his nose so could use the other end to drink his own blood.
9-If you had to choose an element to identify with (earth, water, air, fire) which would it be?
Earth. I don’t change very fast and like to keep my feet on the ground.
10-If you were a shapeshifter, what you'd choose to turn into?
Maybe a wolf or a leopard. It would also be fun to become a wendigo like my Prankster, minus the agony of the Hunger. I’d have all the strengths of a werewolf without drawing so much attention to myself, and being immune to cold would be neat.
Questions for anyone who feels like answering
1. Horses: fun, scary, or meh?
2. What is your favorite color of dog?
3. Would you prefer living in the arctic or the desert?
4. Have you ever been to Sea World, and if so did you enjoy it?
5. If a black cat crosses your path, it means…?
6. What is the weirdest TV show you have ever seen?
7. What is the weirdest or most annoying movie you have ever seen?
8. If you celebrate Halloween, what is the best costume you have ever worn?
9. Have you ever met an interesting character in a dream that you wish you could meet in real life?
10. If you had a chance to get your picture taken with a tiger that was sedated for tourists, would you?
Recent Favorites Feature
Victory Keep: Chapter 1Edgar stepped into a clearing and found a centaur suckling her child. He threw his hands over his eyes.
'I am terribly sorry, madam!'
'It's all right.'
Her tone was scornful, but with better things to worry about, Edgar did not take it to heart. He uncovered his eyes. She was feeding the child like a mare, not a woman, so he felt no need for embarrassment. He stooped down a little, trying to determine the gender of the young one. As with foals, it was easy enough to tell.
'What a delightful little boy,' he said.
The mother smiled. 'Thank you.'
'Do you mind if I sit down here for a few minutes?'
'I am very tired.'
The centaur made no reply. She stood with arms folded and her back legs slightly apart, gazing out into the forest. Edgar was disappointed. The significance of the situation had not escaped him, and he hoped she would talk to him.
The first thing to do was find somewhere to
The Monster in the TrailerHidden among a jungle of brick, deep along a trail of stone lays a monster in a building with wheels that have never moved. This building is frequented by hundreds of daring visitors all trying to get their moment with the monster. The daring visitors cringe at their forced daily meetings, they hate his gripping tasks, and fight against his deadly ventures. But there he still dwells, waiting, plotting, and thriving for people like me.
It wasn't until the sweltering summer of 2004 that he first cast his red eyes among me. I glared at his balding head, his white teeth, and his crooked smile afraid. I had failed the challenges of the winter and spring and was forced into a meeting with the beast. They said it was to be redeemed, they said it was for my own good but I knew better, no, I thought I knew better.
Twenty-six other victims met him on that sweltering day twenty-six others who couldn't
The Bad SpringerThe Bad Springer
My species is probably best known for being very orderly. Springers, in general, follow rules very well and are somewhat OCD. Most of our professions generally end up falling under soldier, lawmen, or something similar. The origin planet for Springers, Secco, isn't exactly the friendliest place in the world, what with the Morlichs and the twenty foot sandwurms. So with that, Springers are a tough, quick, and moralistic species in the universe.
I guess that makes me the worst Springer in existence.
To be honest, most of it can be chalked up to the fact that I wasn't even born on Secco. I was born on Zarok, a moon base far from the galaxy Secco rested in. Originally it had no atmosphere, but twenty years of complex machines pouring steam and oxygen into the atmosphere had made it livable.
Then one hundred years of peace made it a tourist hotspot.
A sudden thirty yea
Morning TeaMorning Tea.
Sunlight streamed in through the high windows making up three of the sunroom walls. The midmorning light had brought the flowers out; they had opened fully in pastel shades of blue, purple, pink, pure white and soft yellow. With a mothering smile she sat the small watering can down and went into the kitchen to lay out shortbread biscuits on ornate plates and prepare the tea.
That done, Dotti went to her room at the far end of the narrow hallway. She changed into nice dress, pale purple with clean white lace along the hem and bust, and patterned white stockings. Carefully she ran a brush through her hair and sprayed on some product, gently teasing it into place and adding volume with her hand. She had time to check her makeup before there was a knock at the door. Quickly, she selected a pair of shoes from the bottom of the wardrobe and went to answer it.
Smiling, she pulled it open and greeted her visitor. "Please, do come in."
Stepping back, she allowed th
|I will try to offer critiques on a wide variety of things when I have time, but my main focus is likely to be prose.|