Across Worlds with You, Part 7 by Kit Campbell

Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5 Part 6 Across Worlds with You, Part 7Kit Campbell Despite being hyperfocused on listening, Will heard no sign of the dragging, hissing sound he associated with the Deathcrawlers. Of course, he’d always come across them in built-up areas—areas made of concrete, and stone, and asphalt. They probably didn’t make the same sound if they were crawling through flowers. Despite that, they made it to the town across the field without being eaten or whatever a Deathcrawler actually did when they caught you. Theo, once again, sped up as they approached the amulet. This one ended up being embedded in the back wall of an inn. Destia distracted the innkeeper with questions about the safety of her establishment while Theo plunged his hand into the wall. This amulet was silver with a deep blue gem. It, like the last one, went into Theo’s bag. “Are you going to stay or not?” said a particularly frustrated innkeeper. “I’ll have to check with my employer,” Destia replied. “Come on, boys, duty awaits.” Back outside, the fog was more obvious. And definitely getting closer. “Does it normally move so quickly?” Will asked. Theo had gone pale, though that could have been the drain of the spell. “I’m not sure. We had it mostly contained by the time either you or I were born. I don’t know what it was like at the beginning.” “It swept in from nowhere,” Destia said, her gaze distant, remembering. “It liked wooded areas…

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Across Worlds with You, Part 5 by Kit Campbell

Part 1Part 2Part 3 Part 4 Across Worlds with You, Part 5Kit Campbell “I thought you locked this?” Will asked. They were, once again, up on the marble terrace, standing in front of a pair of massive wooden doors. “I didn’t lock anything, the Council did,” Theo said, his voice echoing even more here. “And it was the gate between here and Earth.” Will looked over at Destia, who shrugged. “World gates are weird sorcerer stuff,” she said. “I just stab things.” As if to emphasize her point, she pulled her sword out once more from…somewhere. Maybe it was a magic sword. It didn’t matter as long as it got the job done, Will guessed. “Okay,” he said, just to say something. “Now what?” “Now sorcerer boy has to put in the right coordinates for whatever world he’s tracked the amulet to, and in we go.” Destia took a few steps away and did a few practice parries. “Is that what you did to get us here?” “Sort of.” Very slowly, Theo retrieved a similar bag of supplies that had been left off to the side. “The difference is that I knew how to get us here. The amulet is on an uncharted world.” “Uncharted?” “Like I said earlier, there’s an infinite number of worlds. Until the Darkness came in from one, we didn’t know about any of them. Using the worldslips is a new skill, born of desperation.” Theo began to chalk up the ground in front of the…

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A Piece of You

by Siri Paulson Your “hand” arrived today. Okay, okay, the haptic feedback glove that you programmed at our home on Mars arrived today. Strange to think how many months it’s been since you touched it, Marisol, and yet the pressure of its fingers on mine feels exactly as if you were here with me. The glove is supposed to make me feel less lonely – just me, myself, and I, Sophie Runningdeer-Lopez, out here in this tin can of a communications array for another year, with the Sun so far away it’s just another star. Funny thing is, I was doing just fine until it arrived. I have my embroidery and my book-reader, and I talk to the techs operating the next array over in each direction – except Karl, who insists on misgendering me – which gives me several ongoing conversations even if there’s a half-hour lag on each. Of course, conversations hum inaudibly through the array all around me; the irony of my solitude is staggering, she says dryly. It was easier when I could just put you in a little mental box, and pull you out every once in a while to think about our life together, and then shut you away again. But you would want me to use the glove, even if it wasn’t required for all solitary workers. I imagine you with the holographic sensors covering your skin, thinking of me as you went methodically through all the motions that the glove recorded. Methodical…

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Second Chance

Part 2: Disbelief a serial ghost story by Erin Zarro Part 1 “It can’t be,” I said, turning away from the closet and the radio. “I don’t believe in poltergeists. Or ghosts, for that matter.”                 Shelley’s eyes narrowed. “Really? I-I didn’t realize. Well, how else can you explain this, then?” She pointed to the closet, one eyebrow arched in question. “It’s not plugged in, so there’s no power.”                 “I know.” I turned back to the closet. I had no explanation that wasn’t a poltergeist or ghost…or Adam visiting me. But did I just want it to be? Maybe it was just a glitch?                 Shelley’s hand touched my shoulder, and I tensed. “Look, um, I don’t talk about this stuff to anybody because they’d think I’m mentally unstable, but I am, uh, sensitive to this type of energy —”                 “What type of energy?” Nausea churned my insides. What was she saying?                 “Ghosts and stuff,” Shelley said. “And I’m willing to bet that poltergeist — or whatever it is — is someone you know. Am I right?” Her gaze met mine, and I suddenly wanted to go somewhere and hide.                 She not only believed in ghosts and poltergeists, but was sensitive to energy? What did that mean? Did I dare hope that Adam was actually here?                 No, he couldn’t be.                 “None of this is real,” I said.                 “What if I said it was? And that you could communicate with this person?”                 I…

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All’s Fair in Love and Vampires

All’s Fair in Love and VampiresKit Campbell Even chocolate started to taste bad after the third bar. Sophia forced herself to swallow the last of it anyway, said, “Right,” and went out into the dark streets. The chill seeped through her coat as she kept to lonely alleyways and forgotten corners. “C’mon,” she murmured. “I didn’t make myself sick for nothing.” “You smell divine,” purred a voice from behind her. “I do so miss being able to taste food—especially chocolate.” Finally. Sophia reached under her coat, then froze as she sensed movement off to her left. “What’s a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this?” said a second voice, then laughed. Ugh, even the undead were crap at pick-up lines. So, for future note, three bars were too many. Sophia tightened her grip on her stake—her only stake. “Back off,” said the first one. “I smelled her first.” “Come on, bro,” said the second. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to share?” Well, served her right for being unprepared, but she’d be damned if she didn’t go down fighting. Sophia spun, pulling the stake out as she went. She lunged at the first vampire, who hissed and danced out of her reach. She cursed under her breath. She was out of her element—normally she waited until they were on top of her before she struck. But with two— “Not cool, dude,” said the second one. “That’s not playing nice.” His voice sounded closer, but Sophia couldn’t pick…

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More Poems!

For our April freebie, I was in a poetry mood again. Here are more poems! Hope you enjoy! ~Erin Before Poetry We are made of star-stuff, Carl Sagan said But before poetry I was not a starEmpty, useless, aimlessstitched together crookedcobbled together with dust and boneand a muttered prayer over me I was not a vibrating pulsating thingmy heart lay deadgray and rottedmy silver strands of meaning severedparting gifts no light of creationcradled within But nowPoetry is lifeblood, red-hot and flowing through my veinsfire and tears, leaving echoes where they touched,It is the burning energy and the searing of passion,shining with silver gossamer light It is the infinitesimal spark of creation,lighting me up like a spirit in the darknessfilling me with purpose and meaningstitching me back togetherto myself Watch as my heart beats again, strong and surealive again Can you see it? It is meStar stuff. Secrets You tuck a strand of hair behind my earand your eyes meet minein them I see a perfect mirror image of myselfOn your bed, caught in repose, aftersweet communion.When I prayed the tide of years wouldn’tdrown usand our love was as vast as the ocean I pulled the Lenormand Fish card todayand it speaks of deep, deep connections Looking into your eyes, I can believe thatour souls have spent lifetimes intertwined We start a slow back-and-forth movement ofswings, our hands joined, our feet drawinginvisible pictures in the grass. I want to trace your fate lineand see if it matches mine— “We’ve much too…

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Three Love Poems

Hi, this is Erin. For this month’s Freebie, I am sharing three poems from my Bad Poetry Project. 🙂 Hope you enjoy. STARDUST AND SONG The scaffolding of my hope may never reachthe height of my prayersStill I climbStill I searchStill I listenfor the whisper, the echo, your voicelost in thundercloudsyour song,my foreveryour placea carving inside my heartetched with words I wrap around myselfwhen I cannot breatheYou breathe for me,sustenancewhen the loneliness punchesa hole in my heart,you hold me, rock me,bring me back to myself. You’re my center, my True North, my lightto guide me homeWe are stardust and song,we are eternal. IN THE EDGES OF DREAMS You stood on stage, an angelwrapped in hues of redWhen you sang, it forged a connection between usever brightpast to presentmemory to memoryaching soul to aching soul You touched my hand,a brush of fingers,but in that moment, I sawyou were the missing part of methe part that called to me in the edges of dreamsthe part that whispered to me in the nightthe part I lost in the shadow of time—Your voice soothed my tattered edges We weren’t alone anymorewrapped around each other in pure bliss,joined in this placemade of starlight and promises And then I awoke with the dawn— To think I’d never feel your lips on mineor taste the sweetness of your wordsto think I’d never seehow your eyes captured minehow our life together unfoldedyears falling into yearsTo think I’d never hear your voicewhisper perfect, loving wordsTo think I’d never hear…

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Superstition’s Night by Kit Campbell

“…and they reached the safety of the light, and all was well.” Amara turned off her comp-pad’s screen and placed the device on the side of Braedon’s berth. She stood, straightening his blankets, before bending to press a kiss to his forehead. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.” She retrieved the comp-pad and headed toward the corridor.  “Mom?” Braedon called. There was a little tremor to his voice that gave her immediate pause.  She returned to his berth, sinking onto the blankets beside him. “What is it?” “The story–why were they so afraid of the dark? What was in it?” Amara chuckled lightly, tucking the blankets tighter around her child. “Oh, dearest, there’s nothing in the dark. There never was. But this is an old story, one your grandfather used to tell me his grandfather told him, back when they were still on Earth. They didn’t know any better, back then. The dark was scary merely because they couldn’t see what was there, not because anything was.” She paused, gazing out the porthole at the stars beyond, the edges of the asteroid they inhabited just barely visible from this angle. “Besides, it’s never dark here. Not when the light of the universe surrounds us.” Braedon nodded slightly, smiling up at her. “Thanks, Mom.” He rolled onto his side, and Amara took her leave. Poor child. Maybe the story had been too scary for him. But it was good to look at older stories, to see what humanity had…

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Deserts and Domes, by Kit Campbell

Deserts and Domes Kit Campbell ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Globes of electric lights flickered overhead as Mia stepped into the ballroom, smoothing the pale green silk of her gown. Below her spun dozens of the Dome’s finest, dressed in their best, each trying to outshine the rest. Purple seemed to be the color of the evening. Mia must have missed the signs somewhere. Alas. Well, there was nothing to be done about it now, except to find some other way to blend in. Deserts, how she did not want to be here. But it would not do to miss this, not after all the work she’d put into her persona, not after the sacrifices others had made to get her inside the Dome, not after the risks her “father” had taken. Matthew Ashwood stood beside her, resplendent in blues and greens, either also having not seen the signs for purple or, more likely, not caring. After all, if he cared about Dome society, he would not have taken her in. “Do you see him?” she asked, quietly, though she would not be heard over the music anyway. It came from all angles, amplified through speakers mounted on the walls. It was a waltz, scratching in a way live music never would, and its origins were unclear. Were there actual musicians hidden away somewhere? Some people could afford that, certainly, or justify attempting to, though there were very few musicians left. Probably it was a recording, or a recording of a recording. Matthew leaned…

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Sun Touched

a free serial set in the Fey Touched universeby Erin Zarro Part 5 Get caught up: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 DAY 2 – Continued                 The hallway was strangely quiet as we walk-hobbled. I kept waiting for more rogues to materialize from the shadows, but none did.                 “How do we get out of here?” I asked Ry. There were several doors on both sides of the hallway, but nothing jumped out to me as the way out. It reminded me of an old, creepy castle.                 Ry took a deep, rattling breath. I remembered that tomorrow was day three. If I didn’t heal him…he would die.                 Tomorrow.                 It felt like a sucker punch. I wasn’t even sure I liked him. I wasn’t sure I was going to heal him. But the thought of him dying clearly did something to me. Something I didn’t understand.                 And I didn’t want to think on it too deeply.                 “There’s a door on the left that leads to another hallway. We take that all the way down, turn left, and we’re there.” Ry coughed.                 “Sounds pretty easy,” Tanya murmured.                 “Oh, but it might not be. Not if I have anything to do with it,” a voice said. It was male, and it was coming from in front of us, but no one was there.                 “That’s Andre.” Ry coughed again. “He’s mastered the art of hiding behind illusions. C’mon, Andre, show…

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