Vault for my short stories, musings, and more.

The PowerFields will have us. They will have all of us.

The Headmistress was a mean human, but a human nonetheless.

Armando met the darkness in an apartment. He'd known there would be something terribly wrong.

The first centipede had howled in pain. Now it gave her a buzz of satisfaction to ensure that it wouldn't attack again.

The room was bathed in blood orange, rhythmically interrupted by pulsating blue and red lights. A man’s angry voice screamed his name.