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
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
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...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 30, 2010 | Stories
This entry is part 1 of 3 in the series GolemRain lashed down on that ravaged plain in furious sheets. The broken earth drank it up through ragged cracks that went down forever. At the center of the plain, a gaping maw of a hole sucked down water in great, sodden...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 24, 2010 | Stories
The albino stood on the platform and dragged the knife down his forearm. Blood ran in scarlet rivulets over his hand, his fingers. It dripped the sidereal pattern of his god onto the wooden planks around his feet. Before him the air shimmered as it struggled to call...
