Speechless: Hunting Party 5

Divergence

I suppose it wasn’t the smartest thing to do but it seemed most honorable to tell Jack to his face that it was time to take his head. He didn’t seem surprised at all, either. He was just… thoughtful as we walked down the sewer tunnel. It had only been hours since dealing with Anne and Tobias but I’d been brooding about it ever since. Jack was the first to speak.

“You don’t want to wait until after the others are dealt with?”

The Fall of Detroit

And now for a taste from far outside the wall of Chrysalis, back when the walls were still on the rise and the world was already making ready to evict humanity.

The Fall of Detroit

I am curled

in the corner.

A blown wrapper, hiding

in an ice box

apartment.

Please, Patronize me.

After much fussing, hemming and hawing about the topic, Chrysalis Falls now has a Patreon campaign active! If you're so inclined to help continue funding weird serial fiction, head on over. And as the dashingly handsome man in the video will tell you, we'll even be bringing weirdos from outside the borders of Chrysalis to come and play... as long as we have your support. After all, Chrysalis Falls has never existed in a vacuum. It's only ever been made possible by you. I hope to provide you the kind of oddities that you never knew you cared to have in your life, and the closer I can get to making that my full time job, the happier I am. And it's you that makes it happen.

Thank you for that.

Wither The Vain: Part 2 of The Tower

Stationary, Eyewear, and Scaly Things, Going Up

Some people must request before they’re born to have their balls dipped in liquid steel. Because that’s the only way I can really see someone being stupid enough to get in our way after seeing the thrashing I give someone. He was still standing there on the sixth floor though, smiling with all the beaming audacity of the sun at us.

“Glad to see you made it father. Wither, Seth, Christoph, hello to you as well.”

“Hello Pox. Guessed you’d be here. Why?”

“Why? You mean, other than to legitimize my work and gain a modicum of protection against you barbarians? How about the fact that father threatened my children when last we met. Still so smug now Victory?”

I snorted.

The Gates Are Back OPEN!

It's been a long time worms and germs, but Chrysalis Falls is opening its gates again. As a special call to action, we're offering the 1st ebook collections of both The Boy Named Nod and The Pallbearer free on Kindle through Friday! So go get free stuff, I know you want to, then come on back and get caught up. We've got a wild ride to go on.


The Sons of Adam: The Boy Named Nod - Collection 1

"Someone knew we were coming.

More than that, someone was using us to do their own job.

"Mr. Jonathan, get out here, double time. We're leaving."

"Already? But, you see, she's scared and a gentleman would..."

"I don't give a damn. Something's out of place and I won't be a sitting target."

Mr. Jonathan sauntered out of the back room, still buttoning his shirt. His eyes met mine and he snarled. His lip curled up, white teeth gleaming. His nostrils flared. Mr. Jonathan slid one of his straight razors from his pant's pocket and took a step towards me. He spun on that foot, ducking low, just in time to miss our waitress swinging at him with a fire axe. He brought the razor up and across her hickeyed throat. Her throat smiled red, a crimson water fountain. Mr. Jonathan was already spinning to the side beneath the spray of blood. He grabbed her by the back of the head and flung her back into the stockroom."

Rate of Decay: The Pallbearer - Collection 1

"The music started again. Different this time. More upbeat. Showy.

And something started through the breach.

"Jesus Neil, they're clowns."

Packs of them, claws scraping the ground, mouths overflowing with teeth. Painted white with cotton candy pink and blue polka dots. Naked. Snarling. Spittle-flecking their cheeks. Another fine product of The Black Symphony's hackwork bioengineering program. I pulled St. George from its holster on my back."

Elevator Music

Elevator Music

There was pepper in my brain; a burn, a twist, an itch. "Nod, get out of my head. Your only warning. I'll tear you apart and have a janitor hose this room out." "Understood sir." I swiveled my head to look at Nod. He grinned, then turned away, looking into the mirrored sides of the elevator. He adjusted his tie, straightened his bowler. As he preened, the elevator died. Silent stop as the fluorescent lights ended. No flickering. Blown out like candles. "Does this happen here often? I can't say as I'm impressed." "Quiet boy. Show your owner some respect." He recoiled at that, scraping a bad taste from his tongue. Too bad. Too many assaults take place through elevator shafts. No cables in mine. Hydraulics. The shafts themselves are under constant guard. What the hell is going on? skitter skiver skrich skrich skratch "Did someone cut the power?" "Ridiculous. We have our dedicated conduits beneath the building. It's part of our contracts with Morelli and East Fredricksburg. Now be quiet, I hear something." skriver shiver SQUEAL In the steel beside my head, four thick ridges grew. They burrowed down the wall, stopping a foot from the floor. "Mr. Jorgensen, I take it that doesn't happen here very often either?" Panting. There was panting. Above me, to the right. Drip drip drip; spittle landing on the elevator roof. Twisting. A soft skitter skratch as the drooling, panting thing moved to a different elevator. "No. It doesn't. We need to finish our descent. Down there, we stand a decent chance." "Chance at what?" "Surviving. Something has broken through my defences, gotten into the elevator shafts, and is looking for one with filling inside. I suggest we move on before it gets in." "Any suggestions mon capitan?" "The access panel in the ceiling. It'll find it soon enough. I boost you up. There's a panel on the roof of this elevator. Crush it, shoot it, whatever seems best to you. As long as it's destroyed, we'll begin a slow descent." "How's that?" "Controlled release. It has its own power source. Power dies, we go down. Now get over here so I can boost you up before it comes back." Nod moved slowly, laying his bowler down in the corner. Could the child move any damned slower? "Hurry up. It is hungry and it knows we are here. Move." He stepped to me and lifted a foot. I caught it and pushed him up into the air. He flipped open the latch on the first try and caught hold. I slipped under him and pushed and he struggled onto the roof. "Alright. Clear up here." "Good. Do you see the terminal?" "Yes." "Destroy it." He was pulling his pistol. Trigger rocking, clicking. Three shots into the panel. We were moving again. Down. Wait. Panting. "Nod, get back down here." "Sir..." "Get down here now." There was no muffled thud this time. No hushed squeak or skitter. The elevator jerked as weight slammed down onto the roof, dual dents above my head. Firing. Four shots. roo roo roo A laugh. I've heard that laugh. No. Ní dhíolann dearmad fiacha. A debt is unpaid, even if forgotten. Nod screamed. Flesh parting. trinkle. shatter. A bloody pair of glasses lay at my feet. "Hallo wee man. We have business together." A single red eye peered down through the hatch. Teeth. Thick teeth. Black Shuck. "We have not taken kindly to your treachery." No. Impossible. "No worries wee man, although I can promise you, I give you not twelve minutes, let alone twelve months." Shredded my sleeves, baring my claws. Not at him. Eyes searing my back as I slashed at the door. Out. Must get out. Landed behind me. Towering over me. Don't look. I buried my claws in the door and strained. "I miss my eye." The doors cracked slightly, barely open. "Fear Dearg, you of all should know..." Ní cleas é go ndéantar trí huaire é. It isn't a trick until it is done three times. I screamed, through rows of teeth and dove through the elevator door. Down. Going down. Digging claws into the wall, slowing my drop. The door below was open. I swung inside, fell hard. A sack of potatoes. No one plays a trick on red cap. No one. I looked up into a hound's face, a single eye. A single hateful loathing eye. Thump thump. Heartbeat. Thump thump. He had no heart. I blinked and the boy smiled. The lights went out. --------------------------------------- I flipped over Jorgensen's unconscious body and fished through his robes. A simple id card and a remote control. It would have to do. I stepped into the elevator, picking up my bowler and glasses. I wiped my glasses off on Jorgensen's robes and slipped them back on. Even the scar would fade soon. Just like all dreams do. I have never killed a man personally. I have destroyed them with my dreams and theirs. No man kills my dreams. No man holds them hostage. "Anything he can lead me to, I can find myself. Don't worry gents, I'm coming."

Hiatus Extension

It looks like we're pushing back the hiatus until at least January 1st. Apologies to all the folks who've been waiting for new material. Finances are being sorted. Thank you for your understanding.