Anthology of Ichor III: Gears of Damnation Read Online Free
Author: Kevin Breaux, Erik Johnson, Cynthia Ray, Jeffrey Hale, Bill Albert, Amanda Auverigne, Marc Sorondo, Gerry Huntman, AJ French
URHS, today was to mark the first day of a project to be completed by 2014.”
Reporting across the street from the broken remains of the old textile mill, the crimson haired field correspondent Janet Jones of NJ12 continued to announce the findings during a live broadcast.
“ This building, often argued by preservations as a secret laboratory of the enigmatic inventor Nikola Tesla, may have finally coughed out the truth of its existence in its dying breath.”
Turning her shoulders to the side, Janet presented the camera with her best side as she pointed back at the demolition site.
“ So far all we know is that the contents of the large vault were preserved well. A mass of papers and some old machinery were found. One fireman I spoke to suggested that the contents could be dated back a hundred or so years, but the site managers have been told not to touch or photograph anything until the NJHS experts arrive and confirm the findings.”
As Janet volleyed questions and answers back to the news anchorman a flash of unnatural light enveloped the scene. Temporarily blinded, those who stood about were stunned until one man let loose with a fearful howl.
Janet turned quickly, dropping her microphone as she rubbed her eyes clear of the pulsating spots that filled them. From the center of the demolition site there were increasing screams. Something bad had just happened, and Janet knew it must be newsworthy. Snatching up her microphone from the pavement she then latched her hand on the cameraman’s arm, tugging him past the police’s do not cross line.
“ Let’s go, Jimmy!”
Although her heels were not meant for the uneven terrain of broken stone rubble, she moved lithely across the demolition site towards a deep hole in the ground where the most police, firemen and construction workers were gathered.
“ Put it down!” one police man yelled, his sidearm brandished and pointed at a construction worker who held what looked like a child’s super-soaker rife, yet built with components such as glass tubes and steel.
“ I didn’t mean to! I-I had no clue!”
The man babbled and shook as he stumbled in a small pivoting circle.
“ Drop it!” another policeman ordered.
“ Wait Jimmy, do you see that?”
Janet asked her cameraman after pointing her arm into frame at something on the ground not far from the feet of the construction worker. As he zoomed the video camera in he discovered exactly what she was pointing at; the blackened arm of a burnt corpse with thin white vapors still rising from it. Obscured by debris, very little was visible from this angle so Janet suggested moving around to the other side. Jimmy did not move. After swallowing the truth his eyes feed him, the cameraman spotted an old leather bound book several inches from the char-coaled hand. Increasing the digital zoom of his camera, past its recommended settings, the hand written words on the book’s cover came into sharp focus; Mark Twain 1894-1895.
A pair of gunshots rang out, causing the cameraman to jerk the video camera upward towards the action.
“ My God!” Janet screamed as she watched the man the police shot fall face first to the ground. “What the hell is going on here?”
Special thanks to the following works by:
1. Mark Twain - written on the flyleaf of Clemens's copy of A. S. Evans's Our Sister Republic
2. Mark Twain - in Eruption
3. Thomas Edison
SIDE EFFECTS
by
Cynthia Ray
Stella sat on the exam table at the Holistic Health and Wellness Center in her stiff paper gown and watched the assistant prepare an injection. Stella’s heart beat faster and she prayed. “Please, please, please let it work.”
Due to her crippling arthritis, she used a walker to get around. When she woke in the morning, she could barely move. She had to uncurl her hands, fingers, legs, and hips slowly, one by one to get them moving, and each joint, each muscle
Reporting across the street from the broken remains of the old textile mill, the crimson haired field correspondent Janet Jones of NJ12 continued to announce the findings during a live broadcast.
“ This building, often argued by preservations as a secret laboratory of the enigmatic inventor Nikola Tesla, may have finally coughed out the truth of its existence in its dying breath.”
Turning her shoulders to the side, Janet presented the camera with her best side as she pointed back at the demolition site.
“ So far all we know is that the contents of the large vault were preserved well. A mass of papers and some old machinery were found. One fireman I spoke to suggested that the contents could be dated back a hundred or so years, but the site managers have been told not to touch or photograph anything until the NJHS experts arrive and confirm the findings.”
As Janet volleyed questions and answers back to the news anchorman a flash of unnatural light enveloped the scene. Temporarily blinded, those who stood about were stunned until one man let loose with a fearful howl.
Janet turned quickly, dropping her microphone as she rubbed her eyes clear of the pulsating spots that filled them. From the center of the demolition site there were increasing screams. Something bad had just happened, and Janet knew it must be newsworthy. Snatching up her microphone from the pavement she then latched her hand on the cameraman’s arm, tugging him past the police’s do not cross line.
“ Let’s go, Jimmy!”
Although her heels were not meant for the uneven terrain of broken stone rubble, she moved lithely across the demolition site towards a deep hole in the ground where the most police, firemen and construction workers were gathered.
“ Put it down!” one police man yelled, his sidearm brandished and pointed at a construction worker who held what looked like a child’s super-soaker rife, yet built with components such as glass tubes and steel.
“ I didn’t mean to! I-I had no clue!”
The man babbled and shook as he stumbled in a small pivoting circle.
“ Drop it!” another policeman ordered.
“ Wait Jimmy, do you see that?”
Janet asked her cameraman after pointing her arm into frame at something on the ground not far from the feet of the construction worker. As he zoomed the video camera in he discovered exactly what she was pointing at; the blackened arm of a burnt corpse with thin white vapors still rising from it. Obscured by debris, very little was visible from this angle so Janet suggested moving around to the other side. Jimmy did not move. After swallowing the truth his eyes feed him, the cameraman spotted an old leather bound book several inches from the char-coaled hand. Increasing the digital zoom of his camera, past its recommended settings, the hand written words on the book’s cover came into sharp focus; Mark Twain 1894-1895.
A pair of gunshots rang out, causing the cameraman to jerk the video camera upward towards the action.
“ My God!” Janet screamed as she watched the man the police shot fall face first to the ground. “What the hell is going on here?”
Special thanks to the following works by:
1. Mark Twain - written on the flyleaf of Clemens's copy of A. S. Evans's Our Sister Republic
2. Mark Twain - in Eruption
3. Thomas Edison
SIDE EFFECTS
by
Cynthia Ray
Stella sat on the exam table at the Holistic Health and Wellness Center in her stiff paper gown and watched the assistant prepare an injection. Stella’s heart beat faster and she prayed. “Please, please, please let it work.”
Due to her crippling arthritis, she used a walker to get around. When she woke in the morning, she could barely move. She had to uncurl her hands, fingers, legs, and hips slowly, one by one to get them moving, and each joint, each muscle
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