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Short fiction: The Depopulation Project 832 - destination the Earth
“The Deadly Pub” on the corner of Fifth St and Spring was as lively as ever. They were celebrating the best day in the history of the establishment: exactly 3 years ago, one of the patrons bit a slice of the chef's pizza, convulsed violently, and died. There’s never been a slow day in this place ever since Click here for more
The Shapeshifter
To say that Lily was mad at herself is to say nothing. Blood rushing in her ears, she would strangle herself with her own bare hands if it would have changed anything. She was late, so very late! How could she hesitate for so long? Her sorry-ass could have been out of here by now…run!
What if she doesn’t make it? Staying here, slowly growing old, never seeing anything else but these red, purple and black rocks?
The Grandmaster
Dawn was breaking over the medieval towers. The city held its breath before waking up and exhaling everyone into the cold streets. The only sound disturbing the dead silence was the rustling of wings. Was it even a sound? No living being was able to hear it anyway. The people below were grasping the last moments of precious sleep in their still-tired beds before they’d charge into the day head-on.
He landed on the roof, almost knocking over an old spire, crouched over, wings shivering in the wind. Sitting like that, he looked more like a chimaera than an angel.