by Jim Stitzel | Aug 18, 2010 | Stories
In hindsight, Trista realized she probably shouldn’t have fallen asleep under that tree. – Pus dripped into Trista’s eyes from the multiple infected sores on her scalp. She wanted to wipe it away, but the tree held her fast, pinning her arms to her sides, arms...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 17, 2010 | Stories
Claire found the hat half under a bush, half out. It was the sort of hat one might wear while working in the garden — woven straw and wide-brimmed. Claire turned the hat in her hands. The top had been torn out, leaving ragged edges and a large hole. She flipped the...
by Jim Stitzel | Jul 25, 2010 | Stories
This entry is part 1 of 13 in the series Market of the MacabreHe drifted through the cacophony with certain inevitability. Barkers called out their wares along the way. “Seed of life, extracted via rectal cavity!” “Fetal tissue from forced abortion!” “Skullcap of a...
by Jim Stitzel | Mar 2, 2010 | Stories
“They battled high upon the wall walk, pushing and pulling, slashing with their blades, and slinging spells, neither gaining a foothold over the other.” Read the rest at Blessed on Ficly – A better, shorter story.
by Jim Stitzel | Mar 2, 2010 | Stories
The black cauldron sat in the middle of the room and hissed menacingly as the green sludge within burbled and glurped. The stench emanating from the vile brew was overwhelming, nauseating in its potency, but the witch standing over it seemed not to notice. “Leg of...
