A college student shows her dorm mate a mysterious cabin in the woods that changes its inside based on what key is inserted.
“Behold! The House of Keys! At least, that’s my working title.”
Jamie waved her hands, parodying an infomercial host, as she revealed the log cabin to Rhonda. They had to hike for about 30 minutes to get there as there was no path for cars, but they did have cell service as Jamie led the way with her phone’s GPS. The cabin was not old, but it was not new either. From the outside, Rhonda assumed the simple wooden structure housed a single room and perhaps a bathroom. The front door’s red-painted background with roses of various colors invoked feelings of love and romance, while the blacked-out windows invoked mystery. The more Rhonda studied the windows, the more she suspected the owner simply painted them black on the inside.
For the past hour, Rhonda had been trying to get her dorm mate to tell her what she found during her hike, but Jamie was silent. Jamie claimed Rhonda would only believe it if she saw it for herself. Rhonda disagreed and brought up the fact that they were both journalism majors and would trust each other. Jamie replied that “this is some sci-fi shit” and asked her to “bring any kind of key she could, even keys that weren’t technically keys.” Intrigued, Rhonda dropped the book about the history of zines she was reading and gathered anything key-like.
“Now that we’re here, are you going to tell me what the big deal is?” Rhonda asked, being mindful of watching her snark. “This is just an ordinary cabin in the woods. Wait. Did you find a dead body?”
“No,” Jamie replied, enjoying the secret she held. “Weirder.”
“What’s weirder than a dead body?”
Jamie took a deep breath. She reached into her hoodie’s pocket, pulled out her dorm room key, and put it in the keyhole under the white doorknob but stopped before going any further. “Okay, so whatever key you put in here, the inside takes you to a place inspired by that key.”
Jamie pushed open the door, revealing a room with a striking resemblance to their dorm room. Rhonda stepped inside, seeing duplicates of their bed sets, posters, and personal belongings. The place even had the same scent of lavender and coconut oil from their beauty care products.
“How in the world,” Rhonda whispered. “How did you do this?”
“I just used my key on this door. Notice the dimensions inside and outside. They don’t match. Look at the windows. They match like our place, but not with the windows on the cabin.”
Rhonda picked up a duplicate of the book she was reading, which was in the same spot she had left it in her dorm back at the college. “I still don’t believe this.”
“This was just one room,” Jamie informed her. She grabbed Rhonda’s hand and took her back outside, closing the door behind. “Put one of your keys in there. Any key.”
Rhonda noticed a golden metal sign next to the door that welcomed, “Any key will unlock me. Come inside!” The sign explained why Jamie would’ve tried to get inside.
She picked the gate key to the pool she worked at as a lifeguard during the weekends. The lock absorbed the key, making a satisfying click with its magically perfect fit. She turned the knob, revealing an indoor pool. The natatorium room was much bigger than the outside of the cabin.
“No freaking way,” Rhonda said with her jaw dropped.
“Pretty, cool, huh?”
“Yeah. I think I forgive you for wanting to show me this place instead of telling me about it. Does anyone else know about this?”
“You’re the only soul I’ve told,” Jamie answered.
Rhonda surveyed the forest, looking for any signs of people. “I wonder if anyone else has found this place.”
“I do get cell service here,” Jamie announced as she pulled out her phone. “I’ll check and see if there are any geotagged photos or videos.”
Rhonda hovered over Jamie’s shoulder as Jamie pulled up a video of a guy doing a walkthrough of the cabin about 30 minutes ago. In his video, the inside looked like his bedroom. While the tour was still happening, the screen went blank. Jamie tapped on her phone, reloading the social media post, but it was gone.
“That’s weird,” Jamie muttered as she tried to reload the post again.
“Jamie and Rhonda,” an authoritative voice shouted from the woods. “Please exit the cabin.”
Outside the cabin was a team of three people in white and yellow uniforms with design elements from police officers, firefighters, and paramedics. They wore utility belts with an assortment of medical supplies and mechanical tools. Rhonda found their uniforms comforting but a bit odd that they were all wearing silver bracelets.
In front, taking command, was a short black woman with a buzz-cut hairstyle. Behind her was a heavyset man reviewing information on a black tablet device and a tall man with a thick beard holding a white rifle to his side.
“My name is Mists,” the woman introduced with a smile and a wave. “Are you either of you hurt?”
Both Jamie and Rhonda shook their heads and separately answered no.
“Captain, I’m not reading any other humans in the perimeter,” said the heavyset man as he looked at his tablet.
Mists nodded at him and turned back to the college students. “This building is dangerous. Please, come with us.”
“Not so fast,” a seven-foot-tall, golden skin woman interrupted as she charged out from behind the cabin. “I’m tired of you erasing everyone’s memory that finds my key-changed door, especially when I’m trying to spark love and friendship in those that discover it.”
The tall man with a thick beard pointed his rifle at the unknown woman. Mists raised her fist, singling not to fire yet. Jamie and Rhonda remained silent, not sure what was going on or how to react.
“They’re not reading as human,” the heavyset man whispered to Mists. “Not showing up as anything.”
“Stun them,” Mists ordered as she lowered her fist.
The tall man fired a blue electric beam at the stranger, but it did not phase the woman. He fired a second shot with no results. She laughed as she brushed aside her long, luxurious red hair.
Mists chucked back. “The stories are true. You must be one of the rumored end-timers.”
“My name is Pulse,” the woman shared like she was on camera. “But you won’t remember that because you’ll be the ones forgetting this event, this time.”
Pulse pulled a black device that resembled a garage door opener from a pocket in her white and red skirt. She pressed the red button, and the silver bracelets the officers wore flashed blue, rendering them unconscious.
“This was not the adventure I had in mind for you two,” Pulse said as she walked up to them. “But I’m sure you won’t forget about this either.”
“I have so many questions,” Jamie blurted out.
“Me too,” Rhonda added. “Like, who are you and who were they, and what is this place?”
Pulse did not respond. She instead knocked four times on the cabin door. The building folded onto itself, leaving only the red door and a frame around it. She opened the door, revealing a purple forest unlike anything on Earth.
“It wouldn’t be an adventure if I told you the answers,” Pulse said as she stepped through the doors. “I will tell you that you should get home before they wake up.”
The moment the door clicked shut, it disappeared in a blink with no fanfare.
I hope you all enjoyed July’s short story! I’m in Chickasha, Oklahoma working with the Oklahoma Summer Arts Institute, but I wrote this story in advance.
This story introduces another end-timer, Pulse. Getting close to having all 12 end-timers revealed and featured in stories. I was inspired by the following writing prompt: “There’s a door with a single keyhole – it will open regardless of what key is used. All keys open this door, but what’s on the other side, however, entirely depends on the key.”
Thank you to Janine De Guzman for bringing the confirmation scene to life.
Nathan wakes up to a motion-activated alarm with a video of him several minutes into the future, pounding on the front door.
Nathan could have sworn his smartwatch was set to bedtime mode when it buzzed him awake. He moved his wrist to his face while avoiding waking up his husband. It took several seconds for his eyes to focus and his brain to process the message on his watch: “There is motion at your front door.”
“What is it?” Grayson mumbled, partly awake.
“I’m sure it’s just a cat,” Nathan whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
“Check it, so your imagination doesn’t keep you awake, again.”
“Hey, that story won me an award.”
Grayson rolled over to the side, ignoring him. Nathan reached for his phone on his nightstand, missing it during his first attempt but grabbing it on the second. He opened the notification, bringing up a video feed of himself pounding on the front door. The version of himself in the video wore the same bison t-shirt and pajama pants he had on now. In the video, he ran up to the door, pounded on it, searched through his pockets, and ran off-screen. He watched the video a second time before shaking his husband fully awake.
“What? What?” Grayson said. Nathan shoved the phone in his face, forcing Grayson to watch. Grayson sat up. All he could say was, “What the hell?”
“I know.”
“Hold on, what time is it?”
Nathan looked at his watch. “It’s 2:37 am.”
“Look at the timestamp. It says 2:48.”
“Wait, that’s like 10 minutes from now.”
Nathan tossed off the sheets and walked over to the bedroom window. Dangling from a rope net in their front yard, a man in a white suit with pink accents and a woman in a red dress waved at him when they noticed him peeking outside.
“There are people caught in a net in our tree,” Nathan said in disbelief.
“You’re joking,” Grayson said as he rushed to the window. “No, you’re not.”
“You stay here while I go talk to them,” Nathan said.
Grayson nodded, grabbing his cellphone just in case while Nathan stepped outside.
“See, I told you that would get him to come outside,” the man in the white suit said to his sibling.
The woman sighed and tossed him a gold coin, which he caught with a smug smile.
“I’m surprised the video we had of him covered in blood didn’t cause him to come outside,” the woman in the red dress remarked as she brushed aside her raven black hair.
“Okay, what is going on?” Nathan asked. “And who are you, and how did you get…like this?”
“Ah, Nathan!” the man in the white suit greeted with a warm smile like they were old friends. “In the order asked, we’re trying to catch a monster, I’m Loki, and this is Raven, and we didn’t catch the monster.”
Nathan chuckled and starting looking around for cameras. “This is a prank show, isn’t it?”
“No, we’re trying to catch the monster you set free the first time we met,” Raven said without snapping at him.
“The first time we met?” Nathan repeated.
“Yes,” Loki answered. “This is like the….”
“34th time,” Raven added.
“34th time we’ve met,” Loki finished. “We can’t seem to leave until we manually set time back in order.”
Loki rolled his eyes during the word “manually” as things would automatically set themselves in order. Before Nathan could respond, a large crash erupted from his backyard. Nathan thought it sounded like a battery ram smashed through his backdoor. He ran to his front door, as going through would be faster than around. Nathan tried to open the door, but something was blocking it. He pounded on the door, calling out for Grayson. Nathan pushed on the door again, with no luck. He ran back to the two strangers in his tree for answers.
“Seriously, what is going on?” Nathan demanded.
“It sounds like the monster went around back,” Loki said.
“We should set up our motion-activated trap there next time,” Raven said.
“Next time?” Nathan shouted. “What do you mean next time?”
“Once the monster kills someone, we reset to 2:30,” Raven explained.
Grayson’s scream pierced through the walls to the outside.
“Too late,” Loki sang.
Nathan woke up to the buzz of his smartwatch.
I’ve been mauling over the writing prompt that inspired this story for some time, but when I finally sat down and wrote it, the story came out. The prompt was: “‘There is motion at your front door’ – You groggily awake to the notification on your smartwatch. You check the video on your phone and see yourself frantically trying to open the door. The timestamp reads 2:48 AM. You look at your watch. It’s 2:37 AM.”
When I first saw this prompt, I thought it would be perfect for Loki and Raven, which at the time, I got this beautiful piece of artwork done by Janine De Guzman of my characters. Janie is also responsible for this story’s amazing cover art.
While driving to visit his parents for Mother’s Day weekend, Junfeng finds himself on an alien planet where he is gifted with a shovel with the power to bury any problem or dig up the solution to any problem.
Junfeng took the blood-stained shovel that the alien thrust into his hands. With his car stuck in a sand dune when he was in a forest a moment ago, he felt denying the shovel from the strange purple person – that was the only living being around in sight – would lead to even more trouble.
“What is this for?” Junfeng said without thinking about the words that came out of his mouth.
“I’m surprised that’s your first question,” the person said in English. “I was expecting, ‘Where am I?’ or ‘Who are you?’ Looks like I picked the right person for the job.”
“What job?”
A tentacle erupted from the sand a few steps in front of them. The top half was purple and looked like an octopus, while the bottom half was brown like a spider’s leg. With a panic scream, Junfeng smacked the tentacle, sending it to retreat to the ground.
“Yeah, sorry, those are a problem on this planet. Oh, my name is Modva. I created this shovel with the power to burry any problem or dig up the solution to your problem. Neat, huh? I still have some bugs to work out, but you can beta test those for me.”
Before Junfeng could ask anything, Modva pushed him, causing him to fall backward through a freestanding door. The door slammed shut and disappeared the second it closed. He stood up, dusted himself off, and gathered his bearings. The last of the sun’s rays were settling behind the trees. A familiar, in the sense that was from Earth, car drove past him.
“Looks like I’m back in Canada,” Junfeng said, reasonably certain he was at the same spot before he wound up on a desert planet. He had only taken his eyes off the road for a second to get a drink of water, and when he looked up, he crashed into a pile of sand. “And I guess my car didn’t make it back with me.”
Junfeng remembered what the person said about the shovel being able to dig up solutions to problems. With nothing to lose, he walked over to a patch of dirt and started digging.
“Maybe I’ll unbury a nice car, like a Tesla or something,” Junfeng mumbled.
After digging a small hole, a light shined through. The ground rumbled. Junfeng stepped back as a brand new Tesla car drove out from the dirt. He walked around, inspecting the silver vehicle to make sure it was real. He looked back at the hole, and it patched itself up. He put the shovel in the backseat and got in the driver’s seat. The car had a full charge and was ready to drive. He checked the glove compartment, and there was even insurance and title paperwork in his name. He buckled up and shifted the car into drive.
“This is going to impress my parents,” he said, bobbing his head.
Junfeng was not particularly excited about his weekend visit to his parents for Mother’s Day. While he loved his family, lately, they’ve been increasingly negative about him being a mentalist. Granted, he was barely making ends meet performing a few corporate party gigs here and there, but he was doing more each year.
I know they just want what’s best for me, he reminded himself. Hopefully, this car will show them I’m doing well, but I’m sure they can find something else to critique, like the lack of a girlfriend.
He glanced at the shovel in the backseat.
“I wonder,” he said.
Junfeng pulled over to the side of the quiet road and started to dig.
“Okay, magic shovel, bring me the perfect girlfriend,” he said, feeling a mix of awkwardness and hopefulness for making such a wish.
He was about a foot deep when a hand burst out from the ground like a zombie movie. Junfeng fell backward as a gorgeous woman with long, blond hair emerged. She appeared to be about the same age and height as him. She was unfazed by the chilly May weather with her flora pattern sundress.
The woman extended her hand out and smiled. “Hello, lover.”
Junfeng took her hand, standing back up. “Hello, there – um, what’s your name?”
The woman thought for a moment. “I don’t have one. I guess you have to choose one for me.”
“Oh, okay,” Junfeng said and thought. “How about Pearl?”
“I love it!” Pearl said, hugging him.
“All right. I think this is going to work. Now, we just need some sort of backstory before we see my parents,” Junfeng said, excited. “I can’t exactly say I dug you up.”
Pearl giggled. “I can’t wait to meet your parents! Where do they live?”
“They’re about an hour north of Vancouver,” Junfeng said. “But we’re almost there. Come inside, and we’ll work on our story.”
“This will be fun,” Pearl said as she got in the passenger seat. She pretended the dashboard was a drum set, drumming her fingers to a beat in her head while Junfeng put the shovel in the back. She stopped when Junfeng got seated. “Okay, so how about this: You saved me by pushing me out of the way from a runaway truck?”
“I think that’s a bit too far-fetched,” Junfeng said. “I was thinking of going with something more grounded like you enjoyed my performance at one of my corporate gigs.”
“I like that,” she said, slapping his leg in excitement. “Let’s say I work in HR too for this company. That’s a good job, right? Of course, it is. Plus, this story allows our story to be more natural and make you look good at being a…”
“A mentalist,” Junfeng finished.
“A mentalist. That’s so awesome, doing what you love. Not many people can say that.”
“I wish my parents would see it that way.”
“Tell me about your parents.”
“Well,” Junfeng started, thinking for a moment on what to share. “My mom, Akina, moved to Vancouver from Japan to be a TV actress. However, she changed careers and became an accountant because she said she wanted something more stable. That’s where slash how she met my dad, Nathan, who owns a movie prop equipment rental company.”
“Do you have any siblings?” Pearl asked as Junfeng pulled into his parents’ driveway of their country home.
“No, it’s just me.”
“Anything else I should know about your family?”
“Not that I can think of, but I’m sure you’ll get to know them over the weekend, and we can always say I didn’t tell you much. I’m sure my parents will be happy to see me with anyone. The bar of expectations for improvements is pretty low at this point.”
“Don’t you worry, Junfeng. I am going to make you look so awesome in your parents’ eyes.”
Junfeng laughed, and his face turned slightly red, thinking, Did I ever tell her my name? Surely I must’ve or shovel magic? He shrugged the thought off, and they both got out of the car.
Junfeng’s father, Nathan, opened the front door to their modern single-story log cabin home.
“You’re late,” Nathan scoffed.
“Sorry,” Pearl immediately apologized. “It was my fault. We had to go back to my place because I forgot some things.”
Nathan’s grumpy demeanor shifted to forgiveness upon seeing Pearl. “Oh, you brought a lady.”
“Yes, this is Pearl.”
“Hello,” Pearl said with a smile and a wave. “It’s nice to meet you!”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Nathan said as he opened the door, and Pearl stepped inside. He turned to Junfeng. “You got any bags?”
“Right, yes, I’ll go get those. You go inside. I’ll join you in a moment.”
Nathan nodded and closed the door behind while Junfeng jogged back to the car. He grabbed the shovel out from the backseat and opened the car truck so no one could see him dig up two overnight suitcases. Junfeng shook off the dirt, returned the shovel, and closed the doors. He jogged back up to the front door. With one hand holding the suitcases, he opened the door with the other. He dropped everything the moment he saw his family dangling in the air.
Pearl held his parents by their necks. Her arms were now tentacles like the kind he saw on the desert planet.
“Hi, there, lover,” Pearl greeted with a smile.
“What the hell?” Junfeng shouted. “What are you doing?”
“I was just telling your parents how wonderful you are,” Pearl explained, keeping a smile.
“No, not like this!”
“Oh,” Pearl mumbled. She squeezed tighter. “I think my way is working. Don’t worry. I’ll be done with them soon.”
Junfeng looked back and forth between his parents and Pearl before coming up with the idea to run outside and grab the shovel. He flung open the door and yanked the shovel out. His car started to move and transform on its own.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeated. He looked at his shovel. “Let’s see if I can bury this problem.”
He rammed the shovel into the dirt and flung it at the car as it took a robotic humanoid form. The soil caused the robot to screech, reminding him of the wicked witch getting wet in Wizard of Oz. He tossed another patch at the robot, weakening it more. Several shovels fulls of dirt later, the robot sank into the ground. As much as he wanted to catch his breath, he knew he had his original problem still.
Junfeng dug up one more shovel full of dirt and raced back inside. He tossed the dirt at Pearl, causing her to drop his parents. Pearl’s arms morphed back to their human form. She hissed at him like a vampire hissing at the sun and leaped at him. He ran outside, and she followed.
Before Junfeng could strike the ground with the shovel, Pearl tackled him, tossing the shovel aside as she pinned him down.
“Why are you trying to stop me?” Pearl demanded with a mix of rage and tears. “I only want what’s best for you.”
“You’re hurting my parents!”
“But they’re hurting you!”
“They’re just worried about me!”
“They’re stifling your dreams.”
“No one is stifling my dreams. The only one who can do that is me.”
Pearl screamed in pain as a pile of dirt hit her back. She fell on top of Junfeng, losing her grip over him. With her weakened, he pushed her off as another pile of dirt landed on her. She cried out as one last shovel full of dirt hit, causing her to sink into the Earth.
Junfeng’s mother, Akina, stood over him with the magical alien gadget in hand. She dropped the shovel, helped her son up, and hugged him. He hugged her back.
“I am so sorry we were so hard on you,” Akina said. “I do not know how, but she showed us one of your performances. You were really, really good.”
“Thank you,” Junfeng said. “Are you okay?”
“I should be asking you that,” Akina said as she let go. She took a moment to admire her son. “Come on. Dinner is ready. I bet you have a story to share.”
Junfeng picked up the shovel. “Hold on. I should bury some suitcases before those come to life too.”
Thank you for reading! This story was inspired by the writing prompt: “You were in your car just a minute ago. Now you’re in the middle of a desert with no sign of life anywhere. Except for that person in a lab coat. They walk up to you and you notice they’re holding a shovel stained with fresh blood. A shiver goes down your spine.”
The person in the lab coat, made me think of my end-timer character, Modva, who I’ve only featured in one story so far. From there, I thought about making this shovel “magical” with the power of burying problems and digging up solutions, with it having issues in vain of the lyre from The Problematic Lyre. I got another story in mind for Modva that I think would be fitting for an October release, so stay tuned for more!
Thank you again to Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle for bringing the opening scene to life! May your Mother’s Day trip remain on Earth.
Drawn by an urban legend about a mysterious abandoned village, Haley “The Sounds” Riot and Robin Bee embark on an eerie adventure to uncover the truth. With Haley’s future-predicting music player in hand, the duo navigates the overgrown ruins, unraveling the secrets of a community that vanished without a trace.
UPDATE January 17, 2025: As part of a new story release, this episode has been updated to expand details and overall improve.
Haley Riot tugged on the purple musical note dangling from the retractable band around her neck. Her brand-new networker, sleek and stylized like two beamed eighth notes, sprang to life, projecting a glowing three-dimensional map into the air above her palm. The holographic display revealed their position deep within the woods, surrounded by dense clusters of trees and faint, winding trails. Beside the map hovered a swirling collage of digital postings and fragmented news clippings, each one steeped in mystery. Words like “buried treasure,” “unsolved murders,” and “ghostly apparitions” floated amidst the blur of images. Yet none of the accounts provided proof—only tales of explorers who vanished after daring to venture too close.
Haley’s jaw tightened as she studied the display, her green eyes flicking from one piece of information to the next. After solving the murder at the Kruder Hotel, she felt a pull toward unraveling more mysteries–and to better understand the enigmatic music player had a knack for predicting the future.
Behind her, Robin Bee dropped onto a moss-covered log with an audible sigh, the weight of their trek visible in the slump of her shoulders. Sweat glistened on her blue-tinted skin, her ghaukvoi physiology doing little to stave off the oppressive heat. She fanned herself halfheartedly, her gaze flicking to Haley with a mix of exasperation and curiosity.
“How much farther?” Robin asked, wiping her brow. Her tone teetered between a complaint and genuine curiosity.
Haley flicked her wrist, dismissing the glowing map with a fluid motion. The vibrant projections dissolved, allowing the woods to reclaim their shadows. “Just down this hill,” she said, pointing toward a steep incline ahead. “We’re close.”
Robin let out a low groan, leaning back against the log. “Good. I didn’t think this hike was going to turn into an endurance test.”
Haley adjusted the strap of her backpack, a sly grin playing across her face. “You really need to let me train you at the parkour gym. Besides,” she added, with a teasing glance over her shoulder, “it wouldn’t be an abandoned village if there was a light rail stop nearby.”
Robin chuckled, sitting upright to meet Haley’s gaze. “Fair point.” She gestured toward the pocket where Haley kept the music player. “So, does your magic music box have any sage advice for us before we get there? Or is it saving the ominous warnings for later?”
Haley hesitated, caught between Robin’s teasing tone and the very real questions gnawing at her own mind. Solving one murder with the music player’s cryptic guidance hadn’t erased Haley’s own doubts about the device. She fished the small device from her pocket and posed a question.
“What should we know before we approach the village?” she asked aloud then pressed the shuffle button. She read the answer for Robin. “‘Endless War.’”
Robin’s exasperated sigh was immediate. “Well, that’s reassuring,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’m ready to head out whenever you are.”
Haley frowned, tucking the music player back into her pocket. The title nagged at her, but no immediate answers came to mind. “Let’s go,” she muttered, leading the way downhill.
The steep descent forced Haley to watch her step as loose soil and jagged rocks shifted underfoot. The air seemed heavier as they ventured deeper, and the dense canopy above dimmed the sunlight. A sudden sting sliced across her calf.
“Ouch!” she yelped, glancing down to see a thin red scratch on her pale skin.
“You okay?” Robin asked, her tone sharp with concern as she stopped a few paces behind.
Haley rubbed the fresh scratch on her leg, frowning. “Something scratched me.”
Robin’s amused grin flickered as she brushed a stray leaf from her jeans. “Told you to wear pants like me,” she teased, but her smirk vanished when a sharp gust scraped across her shin. “Ow! What the—something scratched me, too.”
When Robin got scratched, Haley knew her imagination wasn’t playing tricks. While Haley was human, Robin’s thick, blue ghaukvoi skin was far tougher than her own. Before they could investigate, another sharp sting raked across their legs, then another.
“Damn it!” Haley cursed as she and Robin swatted at their legs and stumbled forward, trying to escape the invisible assault. The stinging gusts persisted, driving them downhill at a frantic pace. The attacks subsided as they reached the bottom of the hill.
Robin collapsed onto a rock, rubbing her legs as her golden eyes scanned the underbrush for their unseen attackers. A faint rustling in the tall grass caught her attention. She squinted, focusing on the chaotic movement of tiny figures.
“Wind ants,” Robin said, her voice equal parts irritation and relief.
“Wind ants?” Haley repeated, brushing dirt and leaves from her scratched calves.
Robin nodded, pointing at the shimmering insects. Their translucent bodies glimmered faintly in the dappled light as they hurled concentrated gusts of wind at one another, their movements erratic and aggressive.
“They’re territorial little bugs that attack with air currents. I read about them on the light rail,” Robin said, her tone flat. “Looks like two colonies are fighting for this hill.”
Haley’s face lit up with sudden realization. “Like they’re in an endless war!”
Robin crossed her arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “That’s… a bit of a stretch.”
“But it makes sense,” Haley said, the sting of the scratches forgotten in her enthusiasm. “Come on. We’re here.”
Nature had reclaimed much of the remote settlement. Vines crept along the cobblestone walls, and moss blanketed the domed roofs of the small homes. According to Haley’s research, the settlement once housed around twenty-five people who had chosen to live off the grid. A dozen dome-shaped residences encircled a now-crumbling community center, all constructed from the same brown cobblestones that had grown mottled and soft with time. Wild, overgrown gardens sprawled between the buildings, their tangled vegetation reclaiming the paths and open spaces that once connected the villagers.
“This place is actually kind of cute,” Robin admitted, scanning the area with appreciation and unease. “Not sure I’d feel the same way at night, though.”
Haley chuckled, shifting the weight of her backpack. “Good thing we’ve still got plenty of daylight to work with.”
Robin’s eyes lingered on the abandoned homes. “So, where do we start?”
Haley scanned the overgrown village, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the domed houses. “Let’s check out a few of the houses first. I want to make sure this place really is abandoned.”
Robin gave a short nod. “Lead the way.”
They approached the nearest house, the wooden door hanging askew, its rusted hinges bent like twisted metal joints. Haley knocked, her knuckles thudding against the weathered wood. “Hello?” she called, her voice cutting through the still air.
The door groaned as it shifted slightly under her knock, the sound scraping against their ears. Robin stiffened when the hinges screeched, the noise crawling up her spine. Haley pressed her hand to the door and pushed, the rough wood dragging under her palm. The gap widened enough for her to step through, her flashlight cutting into the shadows.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” Haley’s voice rose as she moved cautiously into the house.
Robin hesitated, her golden eyes flicking toward the trees behind them before she followed. The air inside was dense, carrying the damp smell of rotting wood and mildew. Haley’s flashlight swept across the room, revealing a single space using furniture to create distinct areas. A dining table stood at the center, chairs tucked perfectly beneath. Candles lined the shelves and windowsills, their wicks blackened but unlit, dust clinging to their bases. The whole place felt to them like the occupants had simply walked out.
As Haley examined the dining area, the liquid in the oil lantern on the table shimmered faintly, reflecting the light from her networker. Beside the lantern was a small bottle of oil for refilling. She lifted the dusty lantern, tilting it back and forth.
“They really did live off-grid,” Haley said, returning the lantern and picking up the bottle of oil. “I don’t think I’ve seen oil like this. I wonder if they made it from some nearby plants?”
Robin opened a nearby cabinet, revealing rows of glass bottles. “I wouldn’t say they were entirely off the grid,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Looks like they had a pretty impressive alcohol collection.”
Haley tucked the small oil bottle into her backpack as she walked over to peer into the cabinet. “Huh. Interesting.” She ran her fingers over the dusty bottle labels, her brow furrowing. “It’s strange, though. It feels like whoever lived here left in a hurry, but why didn’t they come back?”
“Maybe they didn’t get the chance,” Robin said. “Want to head back?”
Haley’s response was immediate. “Not yet. I want to check a few more houses and then see what’s inside that big building.”
The next three homes told the same unsettling story: dust-covered belongings abandoned in place, as if the occupants had simply vanished. Clothes remained folded in drawers, canned food lined the shelves, and keepsakes sat untouched on tables.
In the fourth house, something caught Haley’s eye—a crimson wooden spoon resting on the kitchen counter. She picked it up, running her fingers along its smooth surface. The sight triggered a vivid memory of the day she met Robin. Haley had decided to try a different coffee shop out when Robin spotted Haley with her rainbow hair, thinking Haley would be the perfect test subject for Robin’s new recipe. Haley could still feel the warmth of that moment—the way Robin had playfully shoved a rainbow muffin into her mouth with a spoon just like this one, her laughter filling the room.
A soft smile spread across Haley’s face as she slipped the spoon into her pocket, the memory lingering like a warm ember. Stepping outside, she turned to Robin. “Same story as the others.”
Robin crossed her arms. “I’m curious. If everyone here disappeared, how did you hear about this place?”
Haley strolled through the overgrown courtyard, recalling the story. “It was kind of random, actually. One day, I was waiting for you to get off work, sipping my latte, and overheard this conversation at the next table. They were talking about weird, unexplained stuff, and one of them brought up the Babylon Sisters Village. Apparently, they came out here to deliver something for a wedding but got delayed. When they finally arrived, the place was empty—completely abandoned. That stuck with me. So, I started digging, but there wasn’t much to find. It’s a tiny community, after all. I did see a few posts from people saying they wanted to explore the area themselves, but none of them ever followed up.”
Robin frowned. “What do you mean, ‘never followed up’? Like, they didn’t go?”
“Maybe,” Haley said, hesitating for a beat. “Or… maybe they disappeared, too.”
Robin raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “And you’re not worried about disappearing?”
Haley smirked and held up her music player. “Not when I’ve got this.” When Robin gave her a skeptical look, she quickly added, “And you, of course.”
“Smooth,” Robin muttered. She gestured toward the music player. “That thing tell you how this all started?”
Haley tilted the device, as if consulting an oracle. “What caused everyone to disappear?” she asked, then tapped the shuffle button. The screen displayed the words: “My Heart is Burning.”
Robin tilted her head. “That’s—”
“Don’t finish that thought,” Haley interrupted, holding up the device again. “How does Robin feel about that news?” She tapped shuffle and grinned at the result. “Okay, now finish.”
“Spooky,” Robin deadpanned.
Haley showed her the song title on the screen, “Spooky,” prompting an exaggerated eye roll from Robin. “You set me up,” Robin muttered.
“What? Me?” Haley replied, feigning innocence. “I would never.”
Robin rolled her eyes so dramatically it was almost theatrical, then nodded toward the large dome structure at the heart of the village. “Okay, enough games. Let’s check that building now.”
“Right behind you,” Haley said, her playful smirk softening as she followed.
Blocking the wide double doors was a massive wooden crate, stamped with the logo for the retailer, Journal of Ardency, in bold, black ink. Haley ran her fingers along the weathered surface, noting the rough texture and faint splinters catching the edges of her palm. The crate looked old but sturdy, the sheer size sparked wonder about the contents.
“Let’s take a peek,” Haley said, prying the top loose with little effort. She lifted the lid just enough to shine her flashlight inside. The beam revealed a disorganized collection of wedding supplies: crumpled lace tablecloths, shimmering gold runners dulled by time, and unopened bundles of pale pink napkins. Compostable plates and cutlery were crammed into one corner, their packaging slightly yellowed with age.
Haley reached in and pulled out a chair cover embroidered with the word “Mr.” in elegant script. She turned to Robin with a proud smile.
**
“Look! This must be the wedding supplies that were left here!”
Robin ran her fingers over the fabric, feeling the soft, slightly dusty material. “This is nice. I wonder why this box is blocking the doors, though?”
“Good question.” Haley stepped back, planting her hands on the crate and giving it a hard shove. It didn’t budge. She frowned, leaning her weight into it, her boots scraping against the ground as she struggled. “What the…? Why is this thing so heavy?”
Robin crossed her arms, one brow arched in mild amusement. “Maybe it’s not supposed to move?”
Haley shot her a mock-annoyed look. “Or maybe it’s just packed to the brim. Come on, help me out?”
Robin sighed with theatrical exaggeration but couldn’t suppress the hint of a smirk. “Fine. Let’s see what’s behind this thing.”
Together, they pressed against the crate, their combined strength forcing the bulky container with a loud, grating scrape. Finally, after one last push, the crate slid far enough to clear the double doors.
Both women straightened, catching their breath. Robin adjusted her backpack and gestured toward the now-cleared doors. “Moment of truth.”
The scene inside stopped them both in their tracks. Sunlight poured through the tall, arched windows, casting golden beams across a reception hall that looked like a blank canvas for guests who never arrived. Polished wooden floors gleamed under the light, their surface so smooth the room reflected back like a mirror. The air carried a faint, almost sweet scent—like flowers long since wilted but lingering despite the lack of any plants in sight.
“Whoa,” Robin murmured, her voice low with awe. “This… isn’t what I expected.”
Haley stepped forward cautiously, her boots echoing softly against the floor. “It’s spotless,” she said, her tone edged with unease.
Robin scanned the room, her expression darkening. “All those houses we saw were covered in dust. Why isn’t this?”
Haley felt a chill creep along her spine as her gaze landed on the room’s centerpiece: a massive red rug sprawled across the floor. The fabric shimmered faintly, its crimson hue seeming to ripple like water under the sunlight.
“Check out that rug,” Haley said, pointing. “Looks… out of place, doesn’t it?”
Robin caught Haley’s arm as she took a step closer. “Wait. Something’s not right.”
Haley turned to her, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Robin’s golden eyes narrowed, fixed on the rug. “It’s too clean in here. Too perfect. This doesn’t fit with the rest of the village.”
Haley pulled her music player from her pocket. She whispered, “What danger should we be aware of here?” Her finger hovered before pressing the button.
The screen lit up with a single word: “Quicksand.”
Haley glanced at Robin, her mouth slightly agape. “Quicksand?” she repeated softly.
Robin stiffened. “Quicksand… in here?”
Haley didn’t answer. Instead, she reached into her pocket, pulling out the wooden spoon she’d found earlier. With a quick toss, she flung the spoon onto the rug.
The change was instantaneous. The fabric jolted, snapping shut like the jaws of a predatory beast. The spoon disappeared into the folds, vanishing without a trace.
Robin’s voice sliced through the stunned silence. “Run!”
The rug began to undulate, rippling and slithering toward them with unnatural speed. The couple bolted for the doors, slamming them shut behind them. They shoved the massive crate back into place with frantic urgency, their breaths coming in sharp, panicked gasps.
Gasping for air, they turned just in time to see a towering figure bounding toward them. Sunlight glinted off the dark brown fur of a sasquatch, who was carrying a bundle of tote grocery bags in his arms. “Don’t go in there!” he yelled, his deep voice laced with panic.
Haley glared at him, still catching her breath. “Too late. What the hell was that thing?”
The sasquatch hesitated, his wide eyes darting between the two women.
Robin stepped forward, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “What was it?”
The sasquatch inhaled deeply before speaking in a hushed, shame-filled tone. “A cursed carpet.”
Haley softened, her expression shifting as she turned to the towering figure. “Okay, we might be able to help. But first—how did this all begin?”
With a heavy sigh, the sasquatch lowered himself onto a nearby rock, bringing his hulking frame closer to eye level. His fur rippled under the faint breeze as his shoulders sagged. “You could say my heart was burning with pain,” he muttered, his deep voice carrying a raw edge of regret.
Haley and Robin exchanged a glance but said nothing, letting him continue.
“The woman I loved was arranged to marry someone else,” the sasquatch said, his gaze fixed on the ground. “I wanted to spook their parents, so I bought this rug from this traveling merchant. Thought it would send a message—a bad omen, you know?” He let out a bitter chuckle, though no humor existed. “They told me the rug would bring bad luck, so I placed the rug in our community center, and when the whole village came together to prepare, that damned thing came alive. It ate them all. Even her.” His voice broke slightly, and he let out a long, exhausted breath. “I’ve stayed here ever since, trying to ensure no one else gets hurt.”
He paused, his shoes tracing idle patterns in the dirt. “I thought maybe it would starve to death eventually, but… no luck.”
Haley’s face tightened, disbelief and sympathy mingling. “But the carpet’s still alive and kicking,” she said quietly.
The sasquatch nodded grimly, his large hands curling into fists.
Robin crossed her arms, her sharp golden eyes narrowing. “Did you go back to the merchant?”
“I did,” he said, his voice rising with frustration. “But they were gone. I asked around the market, but no one remembered seeing them. It’s like they never existed.”
Haley reached for her music player, her fingers steady despite the tension in the air. “How do I kill the cursed carpet?” she asked, pressing shuffle. The screen displayed the answer, and she nodded with a sharp breath of determination.
“Simple enough,” she said, already turning to leave. “Be right back.”
The sasquatch tilted his head, his brow furrowing in confusion as he turned to Robin. “What’s she doing?”
Robin gave a slight shrug, the corners of her mouth twitching with faint amusement. “Her thing,” she replied casually. “I’m Robin, by the way.”
“Francesco,” the sasquatch replied, his voice softening as a flicker of hope broke through his weary demeanor. “And… sorry for not warning you earlier. I was out getting groceries.”
Robin waved a dismissive hand. “No worries. Just glad you’re here now.”
Haley returned moments later, clutching a glass bottle stuffed with a rag. The sharp scent of alcohol wafted faintly through the air as she approached. “Alright, open the door and be ready to close it fast,” she said, her tone sharp and decisive.
Robin and Francesco didn’t hesitate. With a shared grunt of effort, they pushed the heavy crate aside, the wood scraping loudly against the cobblestones until the double doors were exposed.
Haley struck a match, the tiny flame springing to life with a hiss. She touched the fire to the soaked rag, which ignited instantly, flames licking upward hungrily. With a single motion, she hurled the makeshift Molotov cocktail inside.
The bottle soared through the air, shattering on the massive red rug. Orange flames erupted, spreading quickly across the fabric’s surface.
The rug unleashed a piercing wail that clawed at their ears. As the flames singed away the fabric, the creature’s true form unfurled, revealing jagged, fang-like protrusions along its border that snapped and gnashed at the air. From its center, a single, lidless eye emerged, bloodshot and unblinking, fixing its gaze on them with a searing, hateful intensity.
“Close it!” Haley shouted, grabbing the door handles and slamming them shut with Robin’s help. The beast crashed against the wood, its immense weight bowing the old frame inward as Francesco heaved the crate back into place with a grunt of effort.
The sounds of crackling flames blended with guttural, otherworldly wails that seemed to seep through the doors, sending icy pricks down their spines.
“Shouldn’t this thing be dead already?” Robin yelled, pressing her shoulder hard against the door as the creature groaned under the relentless pounding.
Francesco, trembling, shook his head. “It’s a cursed entity! Of course it wouldn’t go down that easy!”
“Did the fire make it stronger or something?” Robin asked, her voice strained as her muscles locked against the force slamming into the door.
“It certainly made it mad,” Francesco muttered, his fur bristling as the door shuddered under another blow.
Haley clenched her jaw, pulling out her music player again. “What’s the next move?” she demanded, tapping shuffle. Her eyes widened as the answer flashed on the screen. “Ring of Fire,” she read aloud.
Robin, panting as she braced herself against the door, shot Haley a skeptical glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We need to trap the rug in a circle of flames,” Haley said, her eyes darting around the courtyard. She spotted rusted lanterns swaying from ropes strung between the buildings and pointed. “Francesco! Those lanterns—are they filled with oil?”
Francesco hesitated before nodding. “Yes, but they haven’t been touched in—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Haley interrupted. “Grab as many as you can!”
“Me?” Francesco questioned, his voice cracking.
“Yes, you,” Haley snapped. “You’re the tallest here. Bring them here, and I’ll pour the oil into a circle here.”
With a deep breath, Francesco leaped into action, yanking the rope to slide the lanterns down one by one. He caught each one, his large hands fumbling slightly under the weight of the rusted metal, and rushed them over.
Robin dug her heels into the cobblestones, her muscles trembling as she pressed harder against the door. The splintering wood groaned, and each blow from the creature sent vibrations rattling through her body.
Haley tossed the package of matches she found to Francesco and uncorked one of the lanterns. She sniffed the contents and recoiled as a sharp metallic tang hit her nose. The oil gleamed with a faint purple hue, glinting in the fading sunlight. She didn’t stop to question it. Whether luck or fate, this was their only shot.
She crouched and began pouring the strange oil in a wide circle in front of the building, the liquid spilling smoothly and leaving an iridescent sheen on the cobblestone. Francesco scrambled back and forth, his powerful strides carrying more lanterns as fast as he could.
The door behind Robin splintered further, the cracks spreading like jagged lightning. “How much longer, Haley?” she asked, her voice strained.
“Almost there!” Haley shouted, her hands trembling as she emptied the last lantern. The eerie sheen of the oil gleamed brighter as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the courtyard.
The door burst apart with a deafening crack, splinters flying as the rug surged through. Robin dove to the side just in time, the monstrous fabric snapping the crate into jagged shards in a single, savage motion. Frayed edges of fabric lashed outward like tentacles, each one tipped with jagged, gleaming fangs. The beast advanced, its movements unnervingly fast and predatory.
“Francesco, light it now!” Haley shouted as she and Robin sprinted to join him outside the newly formed ring.
The sasquatch struck a match, his trembling fingers nearly fumbling the stick, and flung the flame toward the glistening circle. The fire erupted with a sharp whoosh, leaping to life in an instant. But instead of the expected orange glow, the flames roared to life in a vivid, surreal purple. The flames crackled and hissed, casting threatening shadows across the courtyard.
The rug halted abruptly, its edges recoiling as if burned. The creature twisted and thrashed, but every attempt to move forward faltered against the crackling barrier. Smoke rose from the beast’s edges, and an acrid, burning scent filled the air as its body to sizzle and char.
“What is this?” Robin murmured, staring at the fire in awe.
“The oil we used is extracted from shadow blooms,” Francesco said. “People always said those plants repel evil, but I thought it was just some old myth.”
“Doesn’t matter!” Haley shouted, stepping back as the rug convulsed violently. “It’s working!”
The purple flames clung to the beast like a purification entity, spreading across the creature’s surface. The creature let out a hiss that seemed to split the air itself, its once-powerful movements becoming sluggish. The fire surged, consuming the fabric in waves, until the cursed rug collapsed into a heap of smoldering ash.
Francesco approached the remains cautiously, his hands trembling as he scooped up a handful of the ashes. They felt cool and light, almost weightless. As the wind picked up, the ashes scattered into the air, disappearing into the sunsetting sky.
“It’s over,” Francesco whispered, his voice choked with relief.
Haley stepped closer, her music player already in hand. “Let’s make sure,” she murmured, pressing shuffle. The screen flashed the song titled Dust in the Wind.
She exhaled deeply, a grin spreading across her face. “It’s done.”
Robin slumped against her, her exhaustion finally catching up as she let out a quiet sigh. “Next time, we investigate something less homicidal—like a haunted bakery or something.”
Haley laughed, slipping an arm around Robin. “Deal.”
The trio stood in the quiet aftermath, the stars above shimmering as the village finally fell silent.
Night had fallen by the time Haley and Robin arrived at the light rail station to get home in Aequus. Francesco had chosen to stay behind in the village, wrestling with the question of where he truly belonged with the curse gone, though he had promised to reflect on his path forward. Haley and Robin stepped into the empty passenger car, the quiet offering a brief reprieve. They knew more commuters would fill as they got closer to the city, but for now, they could spread out and steal a moment of peace. Without a word, Robin curled up, resting her head on Haley’s lap. The simple, tender gesture sent a warm ache through Haley’s chest, a moment of quiet connection that felt like sanctuary amidst the lingering tension of the day.
“What does that thing say about how I feel about you?” Robin asked, her voice a gentle whisper, laced with a playful curiosity.
Haley couldn’t help the grin that broke across her face. She lifted the music player and tapped shuffle. “Really love you,” she read, her voice warm and steady.
Robin’s smile deepened, her gaze softening with an emotion Haley couldn’t quite name. Hope? Longing? Or something quieter, deeper? “Do you think it has any predictions about our future together?” Robin asked, the question slipping out like a half-formed thought, almost hesitant.
Haley hesitated, just for a breath. The lightness of Robin’s question didn’t match the faint tightening in her chest. With a flick of her wrist, she raised the music player. “Alright, what do you have to say about my and Robin’s future?” she asked lightly, though her grip on the device betrayed a flicker of unease.
She pressed shuffle. The answer appeared, and for a moment, Haley’s expression faltered—just enough for doubt to creep in. Then she smirked, sliding the device into her pocket before Robin could peek. “Champagne,” she said with a playful wink, masking the real response: “Can’t Cheat Death.”
Thank you for reading my February 2021 short story!
After writing about Detective Psychon last month, I knew I wanted to feature another story about Haley “The Sounds” Riot where she was solving some sort of mystery to test the music player. I got inspired by the writing prompt, “For years, people go missing in the nearby abandoned village, sparking dozens of theories about treasure, murder, and ghosts. The culprit? A carpet that traps and drowns them like quicksand.”
Like I did for Body Drop, I also solicited song suggestions from friends that I incorporated through the story in different ways. Those songs were: Journal of Ardency by Class Actress, Spooky by Classics IV, Babylon Sisters by Steely Dan, Don’t Call Me Back (feat. Francesco Yates, DJ Lux & AJ McLean), Really Love You by Paul McCartney, and Mein Herz Brennt by Rammstein. I also tossed in a few of my shuffled songs.
Story artwork brought to life by Mikey Marchan at Design Pickle.
I updated this story on January 17, 2025, to make major improvements, including expanding the drama and setting up for future episodes.
A conversation with a philosophy professor about a repeating dream beginning prompts a revelation.
For the past three months, my dreams began with waking up in my own room with a man in a white suit with pink accents on the end of my bed. He would encourage me to go through my bedroom door where I would be in some alternative reality for the rest of the dream. Regardless of what happened, I woke up refreshed. Still, with the way the dreams always started the same, it began to bother me.
I considered taking a psychological or a dream interruption class, but while doing some research I stumbled upon an online philosophy class taught by a fellow journalist, Hank Williams. In the sample lesson, he spoke with such wisdom and insight one would gain from interviewing numerous people. I was hooked.
Eventually after several classes, I got to have a one-on-one videoconference session with my professor. I started out by asking him course related questions, but the conversation drifted over to the subject of dreams and I solicited him for his thoughts on mine. He asked me questions I never considered and he seemed particularly interested in the man and the door I would go though.
“Do you recall seeing this man in your life before you started to have these dreams with him?” Hank asked.
“I don’t believe so,” I replied.
“Is this man always alone or is someone with him? A woman perhaps?”
“No, it’s just him.”
“Have you ever tried to touch this man to make sure he was there?”
“No, I never thought to do that.”
“This door you would go through, are you sure it was your door? Did the weight and movement of the door feel different from your real door?”
“I didn’t really notice anything…”
“How curious.”
Our conversation ended with him saying he would like to discuss the subject further tomorrow. He was curious if our chat would alter my dream. I didn’t think it would, but I said I would be glad to talk to him again tomorrow.
Upon waking up in the dream, my philosophy professor sat at the end of my bed. He wore a dark brown suit under a light brown overcoat, being a stark difference between the man in the white suit who would normally sit there.
“Strange, isn’t it?” Hank commented.
I took a moment to startup my brain to process some words. “Hank?”
“Please, call me Quis.” He walked over to my door. “This isn’t really a dream and neither were those dreams you had.”
With those words, everything suddenly felt so real. It was like a fog had been lifted from my brain. My face got red with awkwardness, but Quis wasn’t paying any attention to me as he turned the door knob. On the other side was a sunny forest. He closed the door like a person who had gotten what they needed out of a fridge.
“When did you get this door replaced?” Quis asked, like he knew it was new.
“About a few months ago, actually,” I said, shocked.
“Then the dreams started, didn’t they?”
My jaw dropped. “Yes, they did.”
“Do you remember what the person looked like who installed it?”
“I do. I only remember her because she wore a red dress, which I thought was unusual, but I hate fashion criticisms myself.”
“Black hair, right?”
“Yes!”
“That would be Raven.” Quis gripped the door knob and yanked it out from the door. “That should put an end to their work. If you do run into my siblings, send them my regards.”
He tossed the broken pieces on the floor and left my apartment. I knew I wasn’t dreaming because I didn’t fall back asleep.
The final weekly short story for the year was inspired by the writing prompt: “You wake up from one of those dreams again. It starts in your own bed, in your real room, only outside the door is an alternate reality every time. The man you see in every dream was your Philosophy teacher this time. Who is he? ‘Strange, isn’t it?’ He says from the end of your bed.”
I thought this prompt would be a fun way to feature Quis again as I only wrote one story, Interview Spoilers, about the end-timer. I got to show a different side of him as previously he was portrayed as just a journalist, but like all the other end-timers, he does take on other roles.
I hope you all have been enjoying the weekly stories this year! For the most part, I did keep up with my goal of releasing a new story every week with the exception being around A Killer Among the Spaceship Game Show, which took me two weeks to write part one and another week to finish it with part two.
I’ll talk more about my plans for 2021 later, but fun fact: The total word count of all my short stories this year (at the time I’m writing this) was 47,518 words. I do plan to revisit all of my stories, send them to an editor, and publish them as a book.
If you’re on Reddit, I have a forum for my fictional universe so join the community today!
