Category: The Hunted

- 1 Year 11 Months and 2 Days Before the Deadline - Malcolm got off the phone, sitting in his office. Everything was all set. People by in large were predictable, and yet there still remained the occasional annoying variations from the established model. To solve this, Malcolm would mentally map out all the possibilities… Continue reading XXV Malcolm →

- Two Years Before the Deadline - The cold late autumn rain was coming down heavily, and her little kitten was curled against her for warmth. Her name was Boots because of the little white booties at the end of her black legs. Luna wasn’t feeling very creative when she named the little kitten. It… Continue reading XXIV Luna →

It was his day off. Gram was spending it so far lying in bed. The record he played at home had changed from Neutral Milk Hotel to the Microphones. He stuck to second age lofi because the scratches and distortions didn’t detract from the experience. The rhythm spoke to his beleaguered soul, and most importantly,… Continue reading XXIII Gram →

Luna Delphine, you can do this. Drops of water fell from her face, landing in the basin of her dressing room. It had been months since her last meaningful conversation with a character not found on a radio broadcast. She dragged herself onto the stage. She performed, her body stripped from her mind. Each night… Continue reading XXII Luna →

The new world order scaffolded on the sunken bones of the old. Once upon a time, in humanities’ distant past, there were great pharaohs, emperors, and kings. These rulers, used the force of their military might to collect from the peasants what little surplus those peasants could produce. This was, of course, shared with the… Continue reading The New Pyramid Builders →

Marco was, to his partial amazement, still alive. Looking at Gram’s advice, he decided against it. Working in the mines would not be for him. Arrive early, bending down, walking with your back scrapping against the ceiling, working in the dark. He’d be so dirty when he came home that Ira probably wouldn’t even want… Continue reading XX Macro →

The clock in her apartment read 7:30, and it was already dark outside. Luna needed to get ready. The house had seemed so empty without Marco around. She hadn’t had so much as a single visitor since that hunter had come by. Not even him, she thought wistfully. She took out her bright red lipstick,… Continue reading XIX Luna →