by Jim Stitzel | Sep 30, 2010 | Stories
The assassin’s blade slid across the traitor’s throat, easily slicing through pipe, vein, flesh, and fat. He kicked the obese old Duke away, the body tumbling to the floor in a heap. “You have been found guilty of treason,” the assassin said to the corpse, “For your...
by Jim Stitzel | Sep 10, 2010 | Stories
“Desdemona is a dangerous planet,” the guide called out to the group, “but only if you don’t respect her ways.” James rolled his eyes. He hadn’t wanted to come to Desdemona, but human-friendly habitable planets were few and far between, especially now that Sol was...
by Jim Stitzel | Sep 10, 2010 | Stories
I shamelessly stole the name of the monster in this story from China Mieville’s main character in Perdido Street Station. Sorry about that, China — and thanks. ‘Grimnebulin’ is just a really kick-ass word....
by Jim Stitzel | Sep 3, 2010 | Stories
It was a small memorial, only two to witness the laying of the casket into the ground. “So long, Jack. We hardly knew you,” one said. The other quirked up an eyebrow. “That’s it?” he asked. There was a note of amused incredulity in his voice. “What’d you expect?” A...
by Jim Stitzel | Sep 3, 2010 | Stories
He soared. He had always wanted to fly, and now he was doing just that. He had no feathers, no wings, but he was flying just the same. The special magic that fathers possessed had made this possible. He laughed with the euphoria of the moment. The wind blew his hair...
by Jim Stitzel | Sep 3, 2010 | Stories
Fog drifted, wet and heavy, over the short mall between the Wetherill Laboratory of Chemistry and Stanley Coulter Hall. Six tall lampposts bathed everything in an eerie, orange glow. The hour was late, and the campus was deserted — deserted but for one. She stood at...
