There was much shuffling of feet in the large group by the side of the pit. Nobody wanted to be the closest to the edge, even though that was still more than a meter away.
Because of the way the ground dropped away, and the fact that scans had established that the hole led down into a much larger chamber than had been thought, the only way to let the exploration team down was on a single long safety rope. They stood by the edge, a human daisy-chain, loaded up with handlamps, picto-cams and survey gear. The last one was a scrawny apprentice I had seen shadowing the filmmaker, and he carried strapped across his body a bulky film camera similar to the ones that were capturing the occasion from intervals around the edge of the pit.
The winch rumbled into life, and it was time. Both the survey team and the rest of us began waving for the cameras. First the five of them were hoisted into the air, as prelude to their long descent. I watched them swing back and forth, watched the pulley at the top of the rope shake. It was rated for this- hell, it was designed for this- but still I felt a gnawing horror that it would just snap and send the five spinning into the void…
Sci-fi
Message Intercept: Chapter One
“If you are receiving this message, I am already dead.”
How I wish that I could begin this recording with that old cliche! But in all likelihood I am very much alive by the time you hear this. Though it would doubtless be better for all if it weren’t the case.You remember, don’t you, how this all started? Ah, maybe not. Maybe many years have passed. No matter. I remember it as clearly as if it were painted on the wall before me as I record this message, instead of these obscure and crude images. It began, for me, with the journey to Malocus on the Carter. It was an old ship, full of its own kind of creaks and groans that no other ship had…
Necropolis: Chapter Four
Happy Friday to all of you who come across this post!
What follows is the exciting conclusion of the first of twenty-six stories to be published this year.
Apollo and Giger have found their cult, but at what cost? Can they rescue Giger’s daughter from the clutches of Julius’ men? Will she even want rescuing?
Apollo’s eyes, full of blood and filth and tears rolling from the corners, strained to see, to make out any detail about their captors. But other than the robed Brother, all four of them wore heavy hoods and face-covering sackcloth masks with only the tiniest black holes for eyes.
“Just what is it you want with us?” she asked. The Brother laughed a sickly, rasping laugh and smiled at her with black, rotted teeth.
“You’ll see,” he said…
The Write Stuff 