by Jim Stitzel | Oct 9, 2012 | Stories
This entry is part 2 of 3 in the series GolemHe walks slowly, each lumbering stride carrying him a dozen leagues. Entire villages are crushed beneath his feet; whole nations are shaken by his passing. He cares not one whit. He strides through them like they are grass....
by Jim Stitzel | Jun 6, 2012 | Stories
This entry is part 1 of 7 in the series The Clockwork DesolationSand blew through the broken glass and ticked against the metal skin of the clockwork mannequin behind it. Dressed in a tattered waistcoat, its gears and joints shrieked and popped in the dead air as it...
by Jim Stitzel | May 23, 2012 | Stories
The tiny craft’s re-emergence into real space was unremarkable in every way. No flash of light to mark the rift it tore in the black, no radio or gravity waves, and even the EM radiation typical to subspace travel was dampened so as to be indistinguishable from the...
by Jim Stitzel | Mar 22, 2011 | Stories
Smoke drifted lazily from the barrel of the Ladysmith. “You didn’t have to do that.” Kathryn’s gaze fixed on mine. I glanced at the body sprawled out beside her and chuckled. “I know. It’s just kind of fun.” The waitress sidled up to me. “More coffee, sir?” “Sure,...
by Jim Stitzel | Mar 15, 2011 | Stories
There was murder in her eyes. He saw it clear as day. Problem. He rubbed the tender spot where she’d hit him with the blunt — and his heart skipped a beat when she pointed the barbaric weapon at him. “You’re not actually going to use that thing, are you?” he...
by Jim Stitzel | Mar 15, 2011 | Stories
We broke the world, cracked it open from pole to pole. Lit the planet up and burned it with fire from within. We had to. It was the only way to get rid of them. It was a doomsday weapon, of course. A last recourse. God knows we’d tried everything else. Nothing had...
