Apollo kicked off from one of the wooden beams that framed the teahouse and grabbed hold of the slats on the roof of the stall opposite, pulling herself up easily. As she swung her leg up, there was a tearing sound, which she ignored.
Running over the wooden roofs of the stalls, a figure clad in billowing robes. He moved with incredible precision, stepping the incredible distances from beam to beam as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Slung across his back, Apollo recognised the steel curve of a crossbow…
Story
The War Machine: Chapter Four
The little wooden shack stood sideways to the road that Whisper rode along. When she saw it, she pulled Silk over to the side and walked her up to the shack. This was where she would put things into action. If everything went to plan, nobody would go home empty-handed tonight.
Inside the shack was a table and one chair, as well as a simple straw bed. Whisper laid the War-Machine’s case carefully on the table and sat down on the bed, feeling the prickling ends of the straw on her hands. She had hours before the handover would come, and she didn’t know when the last time she had slept was…
The War Machine: Chapter Two
Almost immediately something was wrong. The flagstones of the floor trembled, seeming to warp and bend suddenly around the hapless book. Then, with astonishing speed, strong hands emerged from the stones. First immediately around the book, then further and further afield until the entire hallway was carpeted by them, swaying faintly. The hands directly around the book snapped shut around it, opening it wide and cracking the binding. The Armoury man winced. The hands went on pulling, more moving in, tearing the book apart. It reminded Whisper of wild dogs with a piece of meat, everything else subsumed in the thrill of violence. Paper flew, leather binding torn to shreds, finely-embossed gold-leafed lettering strewn like confetti.
The Pit Dogs: Chapter Two
The signal was given to commence, and Decius dropped his sword to a defensive position across his body. The woman was already running, almost within reach, and he barely managed to move his shield to catch her vicious opening strike. She recoiled from the guard, but turned the momentum into a swing with the other blade that scraped Decius’ armored left arm and threw up sparks.
The Catacombs of Cthon: Chapter Four
A sudden flash of inspiration had come to her, while she was preparing her betrayal. She had recognised the dark psychic waves passing around her as soon as they approached the garage, knew that this was the origin. The place from her dreams. When the fighting broke out she had instinctively made her way to the entrance and found it unlocked – unlocked for her, she knew. The coming of the agent had been foretold by whatever lay at the centre of the labyrinth. It was then that she had received her final orders: Destroy the agent, at all costs…
The Catacombs of Cthon: Chapter Three
The corridor was lit only by red emergency lamps, illuminating unreadable graffiti on the peeling walls. Some of the doors hung off their hinges.
“Our friends have been busy here,” said Zhen, examining a taped-up doorway. “They purged the whole building, I’d bet. Wouldn’t like to guess at what we’d find inside.”
“You mean… killed them?” said Mist, horrified. Zhen nodded simply. “Why would they do that?”
“Show of strength. Don’t mess with us, or we’ll… execute your entire family and all your neighbours,” Zhen sighed. “Horribly inefficient. But then, you don’t go into fascism for efficiency.” She allowed a mirthless, dead burst of laughter to escape her lips.
The Catacombs of Cthon: Chapter Two
They splashed through the puddles of dark water close to the access point that they would use to get up onto the street. A rusty ladder in a dim pool of light was their beacon. Lament went first, feeling the gritty texture of the metal and probing with her mind upwards. Their contact was waiting for them anxiously in the shadowed crook of a drab-looking building. When Lament reached the top he extended his hand and she shook it.
“Henry. You must be the scout team. Please don’t tell me anything,” he said.
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…
Necropolis: Chapter Three
Good to see you again, those of you who enjoyed the first two chapters I posted as a Christmas gift. If you haven’t read those two you can find them in the previous post on this site, or at the archive page at the top (tales of adventure).
In today’s installment Apollo meets up with an old ally, and Giger’s paranoia turns poisonous to deadly effect!
“Does ‘Julius’ mean anything?”
“Julius Caesar? The last king of Rome?” Delta said experimentally.
Apollo shook her head. “Some men were sent to kill me. These and that name were all I got out of them.”
“Julius… Julius… I believe there’s a Juliustown to the west. But these figures don’t mean anything to me.”
At that moment, Giger came stumbling into the teahouse. He was clutching a large bundle of electric blue linen cloth.
“Apollo!” he exclaimed.
Tales of Adventure!
In 2022 I want to write. Like, a lot. I’ve reliably fallen flat on my ass whenever I’ve tried to commit to a full-sized novel, so my solution is simple: Two chapters a week, minimum 1,500 words each. That’s a new story every two weeks, unless I get really carried away.
Since traditional publishing is a bore and magazines doubly so, I plan to chuck it all on here. I’m not playing this game for money anyway.
And since I’m feeling generous/christmassy, and looking to put some pressure on myself, you can have the first AND second chapter of my first adventure, Necropolis, right now. Stick with it.
Without further ado, please enjoy:
“Idiot!” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. Apollo raised her sword in a guard position across her body. On bare feet as silent as a cat’s, she crept towards the door. If they opened it, they would see only an empty room.
She shrugged off her coat, revealing the sinuous muscles of her arms. Her sleeveless undershirt was covered by a breastplate of stiffened leather. She adjusted her grip on the hilt of the sword…
Apollo took her sword’s hilt in both hands and brought the blade crashing down on the beast’s shoulder, slicking its fur with black blood. The thing roared and lashed out with a great black paw that launched Apollo backwards, nearly into the fire.
Winded, she struggled to get to her feet and take up her fighting stance. She had faced tougher opponents than this. The animal was wounded, snarling and enraged. Her human focus would be her strongest ally here. The beast snarled, loping towards her…
The Write Stuff 