klstott

"NO!" His eyes flew open and he jerked up, legs thrashing and blanket flying off the bed. Cold sweat coated his face and neck and his breathing came in jagged laboured heaves. He covered his face with his hands, wishing the images to fade from his vision. After a few minutes of sitting there in the dark, listening to the patter of the rain and the gushes of the wind outside, Emrys let his hands fall. The images were gone now, but it was still hard to believe that it had only been a dream. It had seemed so real… "Pull yourself together," he whispered to the darkness. "That was three years ago. Forget about it." But he couldn't, the memo

Something was coming, coming from so far away. And though he couldn't tell exactly how he knew, he knew they were coming for him. A quaking in his heart, a gnawing uneasiness at the back of his mind. Something dark and evil. Something that was dead and yet alive. It would kill them, all of them, and still it would thrash with starvation. Brute strength would not be able to destroy it and even after it died, the power behind it would survive. Only the sentry was advancing, but the evil king stayed safe in his castle far away. Emrys was alone, standing in the mist between a thick forest and a grey lake, extending so far he could not see the op

"Get your hands off me!" Xila jerked her arms away from the man's grip and kicked at his partner's legs at the same time. She missed and they laughed again, enjoying this whole thing. The man behind her, the one with the rotten breath, grabbed her around the waist and yanked her body into his. He chortled in her ear and while she held her breath, she stamped down on his foot. He howled and pushed her to the ground as he rubbed at his delicate toes that peeped out from his filthy shoes. They were hideous things, cheap orange plastic things. Something he must have stolen from a 10 Credit Joint. Xila stood her ground and brushed her short black

Billy always got the same assignments; settling drunken fights in the saloon, making sure passersby didn't park their horses on private property. Petty stuff, safe stuff, boring stuff. That's what he got since he was only the secondary deputy. He knew he should be thankful; he only got to be deputy out of pity. His uncle thought it was his duty to provide Billy, his dead brother's son, with a stable job. Still, Billy was smart enough to know that the sheriff was playing favourites, placing his own son before his orphaned nephew. Oh yes, it would always be Sheriff John Corbin and Deputy Lars Corbin riding out of little old Elkhorn, Montana to

Fiscaros, Regal Guard of the Overseer, shivered in the glimmering dim corridors of the First Tower. The climate controls must be malfunctioning, he thought, pulling the collar of his stiff plasti-leather uniform tighter to retain what little warmth he had left in his body. Either that or it's imitating winter. Quickening his pace in order to keep his legs from freezing, he rounded the corner yet again. Did that make the fourteenth or the fifteenth time? He had forgotten once he had peered out the transi-glass window. It could be overwhelming sometimes, staring out at the world beneath Elnoztri. Of course, he had never intended on staring out

They say that if you die in a dream, you die in reality. If that were true, he would have been dead long ago. But this was different, this was not a dream. It wasn't quite reality either, but something else. And that made it dangerous. It started like every other time had. Quiet. Still. Alone. And like every other time, he knew it would not stay that way. The night was dark. No moon shone out from the cloudy sky and the stars were swallowed up, too. If it weren't for the single light bulb sticking out from the brick wall, he would not have been able to see two feet in front of him. But the light also cast shadows, making the narrow alleyw