by Jim Stitzel | Feb 14, 2017 | Stories
“Anything?” Bantu asked. “Gimme a sec,” replied Shari. With a gloved hand she reached into the mist hovering before her, dipping a small test tube into it and filling it as best she could. With the other hand she stoppered it before withdrawing...
by Jim Stitzel | Jun 5, 2016 | Stories
Damion stands at the edge of the woods, just inside the treeline. His attention is focused on the house 35 yards away, the house that is surrounded by a teeming mass of the living dead. He hears screams from inside, cries for help from the poor souls trapped within....
by Jim Stitzel | Dec 22, 2013 | Stories
She had a cough. Deep. Wet. Ragged. They called it the creeping cough. Non-communicable to humans. Supposedly. And yet here she had it, and it was taking over her body. Already, fingers of the black fungus were reaching out from the corners of her mouth, which meant...
by Jim Stitzel | Jan 14, 2013 | Stories
This entry is part 6 of 7 in the series The Clockwork DesolationIt is the faintest glimmering of a spark. It floats in suspension in a bottle, the field it generates holding it equidistant from the surfaces that enclose it. It is an Ember, and it pulses gently,...
by Jim Stitzel | Jan 9, 2013 | Stories
This entry is part 5 of 7 in the series The Clockwork DesolationThe encampment is little more than a desiccated husk. What remains of the few tents still standing are tatters of canvas flapping from poles bent and twisted by some cataclysmic event. Much of the ground...
