Jan. 12th, 2017

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[personal profile] froodle
It's a full moon tonight, and that means it's time for our monthly Full Moon challenge. As usual, you can incorporate this challenge however you see fit - tell us tales of madness, shifting tides, werewolves, lunar goddesses, whether the moon landing was real or fake or simply a mass hallucination.
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[personal profile] froodle
It was dark in the long hallway, with only the eerie green glow of the illuminated emergency exit sign above the stairwell to see by. Marshall Teller pulled on his coat and reached for the light switch to the right of the doorframe.

A greasy fluorescent radiance filled the deserted corridor, the unsteady flickering making the shadows dance in far corners and high ceilings. At the very end of the hall, the elevator buttons flashed red as the metal doors creaked open with a shuddering groan. Behind them, there was only blackness.

“Nice try,” said Marshall, and took the stairs.

Read the rest of the Microwave verse here )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
Sequel to The Off Season

The dark green slopes of Wolf Mountain were crawling with men in orange jump suits. A small crowd had gathered in the paved parking area which marked the entrance to the hiking trails and stood watching the proceedings with upturned faces. A hot dog stand bearing the World o’ Stuff logo and manned by two middle-aged women who both answered to the name of Radford had sprung up seemingly out of nowhere and was now doing a brisk trade with the interested bystanders.

“What’s going on?” asked Simon, the question muffled by a double-bacon chilli cheese dog that required the use of both hands.

“Dunno,” said Marshall, who was observing the jump-suited workers through a pair of army surplus binoculars. “Those guys look like they’re from the Bureau of Lost, but the focusing ring for these stupid glasses is missing, so I can’t see well enough to be sure.”

“Eerified again,” said Simon solemnly. “Can I have your nacho dog?”

“Sure,” said Marshall, switching the field glasses for a battered telescope. He put it to his eye, then lowered it with a huff of irritation. As usual, the other dimension was no help.

“Can I have your soda?” asked Simon.

Read the rest of the Trusted Associates verse )

Read the rest of Lost )

Read the rest of the Microwave verse )

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Eerie Indiana

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