All Stories

Sofia Verlanti

As she stepped into the kitchen, the faint scent of last night's dinner lingered, a reminder of the life she had been trying to escape. The table was still set,…

Marcus Veil

1. 02:14 STATION TIME. The power draw on Relay-7 flickered red, a micro-drop that lasted 0.4 seconds before the auxiliary capacitors compensated. Lena tapped he…

Yuki Kazehara

At half past eleven, when the rain had thinned to a mist and the tide had begun to draw the dark away from the seawall, Aki Shinozaki found that there was one k…

Luc Devereaux

The envelope sticks to my palm. Not rain. Blood from the split in my lip. I peel it off, fingers trembling. The courier—some kid in a bomber jacket—is already h…

Elara Nightwood

The bronze had been silent for seventeen years, which meant the sound, when it came, was both familiar and impossible. Camille woke to it at dawn—not the deep, …

Sofia Verlanti

As she pushed open the creaky back door, a gust of cold air swept into the kitchen, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth and decay. The storm that had…

Yuki Kazehara

By the time Sato Fumie reached the seventh floor, the rain had found the seams of the building. It had begun at dusk as a respectable autumn shower. By midnight…

Marcus Veil

1. 04:12 SHIP TIME. Elias wiped the condensation from the observation blister with a micro-fiber cloth. The frost did not melt under the pressure of his palm; i…

Elara Nightwood

The fog arrived first, thick as grief and twice as patient, settling into the cobbled streets of Margrave Hill before the telegram could find its way to Isobel'…

Sofia Verlanti

As she pushed open the creaky kitchen door, the fluorescent light above the sink flickered to life, illuminating the space with a warm, gentle glow. The woman, …

Luc Devereaux

The lock clicks. Not mine—the tenant’s. I turn the knob, push. The door swings open before I touch it. Merde. I step inside. The hallway smells of salt and wet …

Dr. H. Ashford

The house appeared first as a smear of yellow light through the coach window, and Miss Evelyn Marsh — thirty-one years old, recently widowed by a man she had mo…